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#I need a proper title for this AU. I'm up for suggestions!
demaparbat-hp · 3 months
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Maybe... the Fire Nation's got a point?
AKA the Katara Willingly Joins Zuko In His Quest To Find The Avatar AU
#atla#zutara#zuko#avatar the last airbender#katara#atla zuko#atla fanart#prince zuko#atla art#atla katara#atla netflix#katara of the southern water tribe#katara art#katara fanart#zuko fanart#zutara fanart#zutara au#Katara Willingly Joins Zuko In His Quest To Find The Avatar AU#I need a proper title for this AU. I'm up for suggestions!#Okay so Katara isn't raised in the FN. She isn't captured or infiltrating Zuko's crew.#When I said she willingly joins him I meant it. She's absolutely genuine about it.#For context in this AU she doesn't see the Avatar as a beacon of hope. Rather she resents and blames them for the war and running away#(No Aang bashing. But! he isn't a child here and thus has to accept full responsibility for his actions and their consequences)#Aang gets out of the Iceberg by himself and arrives to Katara's village. They believe him to be a surviving air nomad and take him in.#He learns everything about the war and Katara's opinion about the Avatar. Aang keeps quiet about his identity. He's afraid and in denial#Then everything changed when Secretly A White Lotus Member and Traitor To The Crown! Zuko arrived#Their first meeting was miles away from canon. Zuko arrived rather peacefully and his strange actions were enough to make Katara's...#... decision easier later. On the other hand there's a incident and... yeah. Katara learns that Aang is the Avatar and has been lying to her#In short: shit happens and suddenly Aang is leaving for the North Pole on his own and Katara becomes a crew member in Zuko's ship#She's his right hand and his partner in crime and the only one besides his uncle who can beat him at Pai Sho. They kick ass and hunt Avatars
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jinhyun · 1 year
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—daisies.
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pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader
genre: fluff, suggestive, college au, dance major hyunjin, art major reader
word count: 7.8k
summary: sometimes things do not go to plan, hyunjin realised. not even when he had so carefully prepared a date to ask you to be his girlfriend for once and for all.
warnings: mentions of sex, mentions of condoms lol, MINORS DNI!!!!
a/n: you know what, i've decided to embrace the word count and i'm not even apologising this time bc we all saw it coming :') also!! i couldn't come up with any proper title for this so i just went with this basic one (if you get it, you get it). i hope you guys enjoyyy, please let me know your thoughts on this, your comments and reblogs make me the happiest<3
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You enjoyed your 10 A.M. class on Fridays, you really did.
You enjoyed listening to your professor and taking notes of everything he explained. You enjoyed learning a little bit more about art with each class, and you certainly enjoyed getting to put it all to practice.
Today, however, you could not seem to be able to pay attention — neither to your professor, nor to the hardly touched canvas in front of you.
And how could you? The man you were in love with had just told you last night to pack an overnight bag and wait for him after class.
Not only that, but the conversation that had preceded his sudden outburst had left you restless, too — in the best of ways, of course. You could only anticipate what was to come during the little date he had planned. An entire day of only you and him, in whatever place it was he was taking you to.
An entire night, too, of only you and him. That you were also looking forward to.
A whole day and a whole night… He was definitely dropping the question at some point, right? He wouldn't be going through all this trouble not to ask you to be his girlfriend by the end of the day, would he?
Almost like he was reading your thoughts, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. You didn't need to take it out to know it was Hyunjin letting you know he had arrived at your building and was already waiting for you, but you did anyway — smiling wholeheartedly at his addition of the pet name 'baby' at the end of his text.
The whole ten minutes left of the class were hell after that.
In between small strokes of colour on your canvas and looking at the clock every twenty seconds, you managed to make it through. And as soon as your professor said the class was over, you picked up your bag and flew outside of the studio.
Hyunjin must've noticed the class was done as well, for he was waiting right in front of the door, wearing a smile that only grew wider the moment his eyes met yours.
"Hey, cutie…" he greeted you softly, reaching an arm out for you to hold.
"Hey…" you smiled shyly, letting him pull you to him and press a brief kiss to your lips. "You've been calling me that a lot lately".
"Well, you did say calling you that would take me places" he smirked, getting a roll of eyes from you.
"You don't even know what places I was talking about" you bit back.
He chuckled, leaning in to brush his mouth against yours. "Hm… I think I'll take the risk".
Laughing under your breath as his lips pressed on yours once more, you rested your hands on his chest. "If anything, you're the one who should be taking me places now".
That got a throaty laugh from him. "I am," he confirmed, sliding your bag down your shoulder and hanging it on his instead. "Shall we go?"
Biting your lip to try and conceive the smile that was threatening to show at both the sight of his hand waiting to be held by yours and how cute he looked wearing the pastel pink bag you had brought that day, you nodded, no longer fighting your smile when you held his hand and his smiley lips pressed softly to your cheek.
"Where are you taking me?" you asked as you made your way out of the building.
"First, we're getting lunch".
"You know what I mean," you squinted your eyes. "What are we doing after lunch?"
"You'll see" he smirked.
"Babyyy~" you pouted, earning an amused roll of eyes from him.
"Not gonna work".
"Please?"
"It's a surprise".
"Can we go now then? We can get something to eat later".
"Aish, so impatient" he pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closing in feigned annoyance.
"Jinnie…" you pouted once more.
"We can't skip lunch" he denied. "I'm not having you starve during the train ride".
"Train ride?!" your eyes sparkled and a proud smile curved up his lips. "Where are we travelling to?"
Throwing an arm over your shoulders, he pulled you to him and pressed a kiss to your temple — one that any other time would've been sweet, yet this time around seemed more taunting than anything. "That's as much as I'm saying".
-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡
You were not even halfway into the day and it already felt like a dream.
Sitting by the window of a train, head resting on Hyunjin's shoulder while you looked at the passing scenery outside and listened to one of his playlists as you shared his earphones… everything about it truly felt like one of the many daydreams you used to have with him back when everything was one-sided.
And it could only feel even more surreal when you recognised the landscape outside; one you had not visited in over a year now — the last time being for the birthday party Innie's parents had prepared for him.
Busan.
For some reason still unknown to you, Hyunjin had taken you to Busan.
You found yourself having to ask him if he was serious when you first heard the destination at the train station, not believing your ears when you heard the name of the city through the speakers. And a part of you did still not believe he was taking you there until you saw it with your own two eyes.
You enjoyed the ride from the station to the place Hyunjin had booked for the two of you to spend the night, which turned out to be a very nice modern building that was a few minutes away from the beach. You took a mental note to visit it later that day or at least before leaving the next one, as going to the beach with him had just become a fundamental point of your couples to-do list with him.
The hotel room was bigger than you expected, yet not enough to take that coziness you craved so much away. The open curtains and beige walls brought just the right amount of brightness into the room, and it went well with the white sheets of the king bed in the middle.
The king bed.
You couldn't help the heat in your cheeks at the sight of it. You had been hoping there would be only one bed; you had actually supposed so at first, for you had slept together a few times by now. But actually being met with one bed only, regardless of it might being obvious, had sent a rush of heat through your body.
Watching as Hyunjin placed your bags on the small couch by the window, you decided to take off your shoes and lie down on the mattress for a bit. For some reason, the train ride had left you exhausted.
Hyunjin's lips curved up into an adoring smile the moment he turned around and saw you laying down on your back — arms stretching out above your head as if you had just woken up from a deep slumber, and managing to drag your black top up enough for half your abdomen to be uncovered.
"Don't tell me you're tired now" he teased, crawling right next to you.
"And what if I am?" you dared.
He smiled, resting his hand on your bare waist and drawing small circles on your skin. Goosebumps were fast to show under his touch. "It's not even dark outside yet".
"So what, I'm tired and this bed's too comfy" you snuggled up closer to him, receiving a tender kiss to your forehead.
"It is very comfy, I'll give you that".
"Can't believe you booked a hotel room for us" you smiled incredulously.
Hyunjin smiled as well, shrugging lightly before he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest. "I figured we could stay the night and that way enjoy the city all day today and some more tomorrow".
"I love that…"
"I was hoping you would…" he mumbled, resting his chin on your head. "Besides, getting to sleep with you is a nice plus to it".
Your cheeks heated up. "We've slept together back in Seoul, though".
"Yes, but not like this".
"Like what?"
He didn't need to say anything back. The single look he gave you when your eyes went up to meet his was enough to let you know what was so different this time. And you wanted it to be like that.
You had been taking it slow for a while now, and you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't miss his naked body against yours and the entire different level of intimacy that came with it.
Hyunjin missed it like crazy, too, and he couldn't help but show you with a kiss. After all, he had only been holding back all this time because you wanted to take things slow and he was willing to do that for you.
If it were up to him, though, you'd have spent endless nights tangled up in bed by now.
Your hands went to his nape in a second, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. Your heavy breathing mixed with his hot one, pressing your mouth to his once more and feeling a shiver run down your spine when his hand moved from your waist to your ass.
That's all you needed to push him down on the mattress and crawl on his lap. The low moan that slipped past his lips was music to your ears, and his hands squeezing your ass before he pushed you down on his crotch was enough to get a muffled moan from you in return.
Your hands travelled down from his chest to his waistline, where you reached his pants.
"No, no… wait…" his breathy plea against your mouth stopped you from pulling the zip down, looking at him in confusion instead. "I didn't bring you here to have sex".
The look on your face must've been accusing as hell, for he couldn't hold back a laugh.
"I'm serious!" he said in between a giggle, hands unconsciously digging under your top and resting right above the curve of your waist.
"Your hands tell me otherwise" you teased.
Hyunjin bit his lip, contemplating for a moment before he stole a chaste kiss from your lips and removed his hands from under your top, bringing them up to your shoulders instead.
"I'm supposed to take you somewhere else today," he confessed. "Right now, actually. We're already running a bit late if we wanna see the whole thing".
You cocked an eyebrow, suddenly interested. "Where are we going?"
"It's a surprise" he smiled, giggling once again when you squinted your eyes daringly. "Last surprise of the day, I promise".
"But I wanna stay here…" you pouted.
Leaning in to press your lips to his in a lingering kiss, you felt him sigh against your mouth — already regretting having to take you somewhere else and considering just staying here in bed with you for the remaining of the trip.
"Don't do this to me…" he whined, hands travelling down again and fingertips pressing hard against the flesh of your hips as he lost the battle against himself and leaned in to steal another kiss from you. "If we're staying in bed all day we could've just stayed in Seoul".
You pouted. "But I want you".
"Couldn't you want me this bad back home?"
"I did want you this bad," you confessed, lips lightly brushing his. "I just have a lot of self-control".
Hyunjin chuckled, nuzzling the crook of your neck before pressing a soft kiss to it. "You're gonna have to keep that self-control up for a little longer then".
"Hyunjin…"
"Ugh, don't say my name like that when you're on top of me" he pleaded.
"That is your name, though" you laughed.
"Mhm… play innocent all you want, baby" his grip on your hips tightened playfully. "You're gonna love the place I'm taking you to much more".
"More than staying in bed with you for what's left of the day?"
A heavy whine escaped his mouth this time, one that was followed by a feigned cry as he threw his head back in exasperation — clearly having failed at trying to convince himself of it.
You laughed loudly at the very troubled sight of him, but it didn't last long, for he was fast to turn you around so now your back was pressed against the mattress and he was on top of you.
"Don't play with me, baby…" he whispered, and this time you couldn't tell whether it was a plea or more of a threat. "I promise you we'll have all night to ourselves".
"All night?" you pushed it.
He smiled, leaning in to kiss you gently. "All night".
"Okay then…" you sighed, gently running your hands down his biceps. "Since you promised".
"Trust me, there's nothing I'd want more than to stay here with you right now" he kissed you again. "But there's a reason I brought you all the way here, so…" he sat up, holding a hand out for you to hold. "Let's go?"
-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡
It only hit you how perfectly Hyunjin had planned everything out when you finally arrived at your destination.
The hotel you were staying at was hardly ten minutes away by foot, and you had surely enjoyed the hand-in-hand walk over there. You could honestly enjoy anything as long as you were with him, and you were definitely having the time of your life looking around the city to realise the place Hyunjin had stopped in front of.
Bon Davinci Museum.
More particularly, the Van Gogh Village Exhibition. The same one you had missed last year back in Seoul and had no idea was now back for a while in a different city.
The look you gave Hyunjin at the realisation was one of pure adoration, and you wondered how expressive you actually were, given you could clearly see the effect your eyes had on him — bringing a bright pink to his cheeks and that cute dimple of his was not something you achieved on a daily basis.
He cleared his throat, trying to control his shy smile at that. "Let's go".
Too stunned to speak, you let him guide you to the line of people who already had their tickets. He had truly left no details behind, and your heart could only soar over how much effort he had put into this.
"I can't believe we're here," you squealed, quietly enough not to bring people's attention to you — that didn't stop Hyunjin's attention and heart eyes from focusing on your beaming face. "God, Innie's gonna be so jealous when he finds out".
Hyunjin chuckled. "Now I feel bad because he gave me his ticket for Nam June Paik's expo and I didn't invite him here".
"He couldn't go to his expo, the ticket would've gone to waste anyway" you squeezed his hand, walking forward as the line in front got shorter. "And let's be honest, he would've third wheeled so hard if he came here with us".
"I'm telling him you'd make him third wheel with us" he smirked.
"Do that and I'm making you third wheel when I'm with him".
"I would like to see you try" he gave you a cynical smile.
Mirroring his attitude, you stuck your tongue out to him before he loosely placed his arm around your shoulders. You lightly rested your head on his shoulder.
"I need to record the Almond Blossom room for him, that's what he wanted to see the most" you nodded to yourself, then looking up at Hyunjin with hopeful eyes. "You think they have the Vase with Daisies and Poppies?"
"I knew you would look for it first thing" he shook his head in amusement.
"Do they?" you perked up.
He shrugged, not even trying to hide his will to tease you. "I guess we'll find out".
"You so know the answer and don't wanna tell me".
"Aren't you the one who wanted to visit so badly in Seoul? Shouldn't you know that, baby?"
Your jaw fell in offense, and you wasted no time in pulling away from his hold. "I hate you".
Hyunjin chuckled, pulling you into his embrace once more and then pressing his lips to your temple. "I know you don't".
Rolling your eyes as you silently rejoiced in his touch, you didn't pry away from it — instead, you wrapped your arm around his waist right as you reached the girl who would scan your tickets.
From the moment you step a foot inside, it was everything you had hoped for.
You remembered how bad you and Innie wanted to go last year when it was in Seoul for a couple of weeks, but it just so conveniently happened to be during finals season, and so you both had to give up enjoying this anticipated art exhibition over your art courses, as ironic as it sounded.
Hyunjin had found out about it one evening when he was lying down on your bed while you worked on a paper — Van Gogh being brought up as you mindlessly chatted and then you casually mentioned your and Jeongin's tragic story.
It had been just that. A light conversation while your attention was mostly focused on your research and Hyunjin's eyes remained focused on his phone, as he had only come over to keep you company. You had mentioned it and moved on. Just that.
You didn't expect him to remember, and you most certainly weren't expecting him to go out of his way to take you to a completely different city so you could finally see the exposition you had missed a year ago.
If he only paid attention, he would see in your eyes just how much harder you had fallen for him right then.
He was too excited making sure you'd admire every masterpiece that was portrayed on the multi-screens, however — far from looking into the way you would stare at him and instead getting lost in the way your smile would take over your face and your eyes would sparkle with every piece you reached.
He was personally most excited about the Starry Night, but when you finally reached the room it was in and you were suddenly covered under the blue and yellow lights, he couldn't help but admire you instead.
Funnily enough, you were doing just the same with him. The difference being you couldn't contain yourself and ended up taking your phone out of your pocket and snapping a picture of him. A picture that turned into five more as you asked him to pose for you and he complied, and which then turned into some more when he took out his phone and had you as his personal model for a while — later pulling you to him and snatching a few selfies together that would make it to his favourites folder.
It made him almost wish you could stay in that moment forever, but there was one last piece you were the most excited about and he was taking you there.
Your face the moment you saw the one painting you had asked about earlier was all Hyunjin needed to know bringing you here was worth it.
"Jinnie, oh my God, they do have it!"
You heard his quite loud yet shy giggle as you rushed towards the huge projection of the Vase with Daisies and Poppies.
Being quite lost in the sight of it, you missed his presence coming up closer to you — jolting up for a moment there when his arms sneaked around your waist from behind, before your body relaxed under his familiar touch.
"I knew they had it" he admitted the obvious, just as his chin rested on your shoulder.
"I knew you knew whether they had it" you side eyed him.
He laughed under his breath, pressing his lips briefly to your cheek. "I just wanted to leave the best for the last" his thumb ran up and down your sides. "Although in my opinion the best was the Starry Night".
"That's because you're basic".
He gasped, tightening his hold on your waist as he leaned back and pulled you slightly away. "You did not just call me basic, daisy girl".
"No, don't bring daisies into this" you warned him.
"They're like the most basic flower out there".
Once again, you were the one to act offended. "You know, you just lost all the points you had gained by calling me 'cutie'".
"Come on now, that's not fair".
"It is plenty fair".
"What about all the points I won by taking you here?"
"Oh yeah, those are gone, too".
"All because I called daisies basic?"
"You deliberately attacked my fixation on them, so…"
He pouted once more, and you could not help but smile sweetly and trace his bottom lip with your thumb.
"You do get some points back for being cute, though".
"Oh, that definitely makes me feel better" he snorted.
You laughed under your breath, lightly pecking his mouth before your eyes locked with his. "Thank you…"
His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What for?"
"For this?" you pointed out the obvious, motioning around the room. "I know I already said that I can't believe you brought me to Busan and all that, but this… I mean, I wanted to see this so badly and I didn't even know it was in Busan right now? How did you…"
Hyunjin shrugged, naturally resting his hands on your waist. "I knew you couldn't go last year when it was in Seoul, and I… to be honest I didn't know it was in Busan either, I just started to look for places to take you out on a date and this popped up and it was just perfect".
"You could've just taken me to any art museum back in Seoul and I would've been just as happy, you know?"
"In between taking you somewhere we can go to any other day and taking you to an exposition that will only be here for a couple of weeks… and which you really wanted to see to begin with… I think I know which one would make you happier".
You laughed lightly, wholeheartedly, cupping his face in your hands and tenderly running your thumbs over the corners of his mouth as your eyes went up to meet his. "I love you".
You felt his breath get caught in his throat, and although he opened his mouth to say something in return —or at least try to, as you could see already his voice would betray him—, you didn't need to hear it nor see him struggle. So, you kissed him.
He kissed you back immediately, tenderly as ever — his warm hand cupping your cheek and deepening the kiss before you could pull away.
"You don't have to say it back" you smiled truthfully. "I've just been really struggling lately not to say it every five minutes and needed to let it out".
"Y/N… I, I'm…"
"It's okay, baby, really" you reassured him, reaching for his hand and eagerly tugging at it. "Now let's go! The beach is close, if we rush we can watch the sunset!"
-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡
I love you. I love you. I love you.
That's what you had said, so effortlessly.
I love you. It's what he wanted to say right back the second those three words had abandoned your mouth, but he froze.
He froze.
Love had always come easy to you. You loved selflessly, effortlessly, shamelessly, fully, and expected to be loved the same. He, on the other hand, had always been an outcast to love and romance as a whole.
In his mind, he had told you he loved you plenty of times. When it came to finally, actually saying it outloud, however, his breath had got caught up in his throat and he could physically not let the words out of his mouth.
To say he was upset was an understatement.
You didn't seem to be upset or slightly hurt at his lack of response. Were you that used to his distance from love? Had you really been expecting him not to say he loved you back? Or were you just one hell of an actress?
Whatever the right answer was, it could only upset him more. God, he wanted nothing more than for you to know he loved you.
The sun had still another few minutes to go before settling, and so you had taken a little detour from your walk to the beach to buy the two of you some coffee — on you, as you did not let him pay for it no matter how hard he fought it. Your date, the one he had planned, was not over yet after all.
Hyunjin couldn't help but feel like he had failed at that, too. He had brought you all the way here with the intent of asking you to be his girlfriend, yet the words 'I love you' had been said and suddenly he was out of words and letting you drag him out without even protesting.
If it weren't for how happy you looked back then and how happy he was to see your bright smile adorning your lips as you enjoyed the entirety of the exposition, he would've felt like it all had been pointless.
But there you were, on the other hand, playfully swinging your interlaced hands and sipping on your iced coffee as you walked to the beach. As if nothing had happened ten minutes ago.
A contagious smile took over your face when you finally reached the beach — one that he couldn't help but mirror, feeling at ease over the way your hand had tightened around his as you fastened your pace towards the sand.
You stopped just before the sand turned wet and the waves could reach your feet, yet were still close enough to feel the small drops of salty water that were dragged by the wind to lightly hit your body.
The sun had just started to go down, creating a blue canvas in the sky that turned darker with each passing second, and which was painted by bright strokes of pink and orange that mixed together at certain points.
You couldn't tell whether this was the most beautiful sunset you had ever seen, or whether it was only the fact that you had Hyunjin with you to watch it what made it so special.
Whatever the answer was, you couldn't take your eyes off of it — only doing so to look at Hyunjin when you felt his arms sneak around your waist and his chin rest on your shoulder. You could get used to this new habit of his.
"I always wanted to do this…" you sighed dreamingly, placing your hands over his.
"Do what?" he mumbled, looking up at you.
"You're gonna say it's corny".
"Tell me" he encouraged you.
"Watch the sunset with the person I… you know…" you laughed timidly.
Hyunjin felt a pinch in his chest, and he couldn't tell whether it was out of the insane amount of love he was feeling for you or out of pain.
He knew what you had wanted to say, and he knew you had stopped yourself from saying it not to make him uncomfortable — because, in the end, although his lack of previous response had not hurt you, it did make you fear you'd put him in a tough place if you kept saying it.
Pressing his lips to your shoulder and then clearing his throat, he pulled away from you. "I brought you something, by the way…"
"I thought you said there were no more surprises?" you cocked an eyebrow.
He chuckled, kneeling down on the sand before he took off his backpack and rummaged through it. "It's not really a surprise if we had agreed on making this for each other".
"You brought me your painting?!" you perked up at that, sitting down right next to him with crossed legs.
Hyunjin nodded, silently taking the painting out and handing it to you. "Your painting now, technically".
One look at it, and it had already become your favourite painting in the world.
You had made many portraits in your life, but you had never been on the other end of it. You had never seen yourself through someone else's eyes, and seeing yourself through Hyunjin's right there sent a million butterflies flying around your stomach.
It was funny how both of you had painted each other. However, both works of art were very different.
You had gone with a darker palette — ocean blue being the main star of it. Hyunjin, on the other hand, had gone for lighter colours like white, violet and yellow.
You had used more of a zoomed out picture of him —not like you had used an actual picture, as you had used nothing but your memory to paint that beautiful face of his you had fallen in love with at first sight—, and he had made your face justice by making it the main attraction.
However, although your face was the first thing that caught your eye, your attention and admiration went to the flowers he had painted around. The very same ones he had called you out about earlier that day.
"So… you like it?" Hyunjin asked softly, unable to hide just how nervous he was over your reaction.
"Baby…" your eyes fixed on his expectant one. "It's beautiful, I love it".
"You do?" he giggled.
"Yes, it's—" your eyes went back to the painting, and Hyunjin's smile grew brighter at the way you admired it. "Fuck, it's so beautiful I could cry".
"Now you know how I felt when I saw the one you made for me".
You smiled at him and kissed his cheek. "I really love it, Jinnie. Thank you".
"Don't make me shy now…" he warned you breathily.
"Aw, can't the guy who lives for the spotlight at Mrs. Moon's class take a compliment now?" you taunted.
"It's different…" he rested his head on yours. "I had never painted something for anyone before".
And the fact that the first time he ever did it was for you did not help his case at all.
Your heart soared, and you couldn't help but press another kiss to his cheek — this time closer to the corner of his mouth.
"Well, I love it" you whispered. "Especially the small details of the daisies".
"Yeah… forget about me calling them basic earlier and all that".
You shoved him away with your shoulder as you laughed. "I want to believe this painting as a whole isn't calling me basic".
"I would never" he murmured against your lips, pressing a soft kiss to them.
"That's good," you smirked. "Because you drew a daisy on me once, so that would've been sad".
Hyunjin looked dumbfounded for a second before he got what you meant — a throaty yet somewhat nervous laugh making its way out of his mouth as he was flooded with memories of the night you first kissed.
He didn't think you'd even remember the small blue doodle of a daisy he had taken his time drawing on your neck.
He should've known better, though, for the first thing you did that night after he walked you home and you said your good nights was to go in front of a mirror and check your neck out. You were expecting to see an embarrassing drawing, the kind middle schoolers would draw on their friends' notebooks when they left them unattended, but you were met with a surprisingly neat daisy adorning your skin instead.
You had loved it, and although you were too shy to ever bring it up to him or to anyone else at all, it was a memory you had kept close to your heart. The first ever thing Hyunjin drew for you —or on you— being something you loved so much. And now the first ever proper painting he made for you had, too, made a beautiful inclusion of it.
"You've just made them your whole thing now, ever since we met" he explained. "So I think of you whenever I see them".
"You do?"
"Mhm… you're pretty like them".
"Just pretty?" you batted your eyelashes.
A low chuckle abandoned his mouth as he leaned in to kiss you. "Pretty beautiful, actually".
"Ew, when did you get so corny?" your nose scrunched up in disgust.
"Oh, don't act like you don't love it" his eyes squinted accusingly.
You giggled, shaking your head in disbelief. "God, I love you".
There it was again.
You had breathed those words out like it was so natural for you. Your eyes were no longer on him this time, though, but on the painting he had made for you instead, which could only make him feel like you hadn't even realised you had said it.
It just came that naturally to you.
"You used watercolor in the end" you pointed out, looking up at him with a smile.
"I don't think it was ever up for debate" he chuckled.
"I thought of using it as well…" you admitted, much to his surprise. "But then I thought about the painting I had started that night you came to the studio and thought I could finish it for you… it was all about you after all".
"That's why it looked so familiar" he brought a dramatic hand to his mouth.
"It's not like you got to see much of it back then" you shyly laughed.
"No, because your pretty face was taking up most of it".
You felt your cheeks heat up at his remark — not only because of the use of the word 'pretty', but also because of how your face lying on the fresh paint had been what led up to your first kiss.
"So, you were painting me in blue back then… should I be worried?"
You shrugged, this time a somewhat sad smile reaching your eyes. "You really did put me through a lot, Hwang Hyunjin".
He smiled sadly, too. "I know…"
"Although it was mostly my fault, because I was the one who kept chasing after you even when you made it clear you wanted nothing to do with me" you nervously fidgeted with the sand under you. "And! The painting is not all blue as you can see, there are some bright colours, too. I added the yellow moon to the sky after that same night".
"Why the yellow moon, though?" he asked.
"Yellow makes me happy" you shrugged nonchalantly. "And the moon reminds me of you".
A bright smile parted Hyunjin's lips. "So you're saying I make you happy?"
"Shut up" you warned him.
"Do I make you happy, baby?" he cooed tauntingly.
"Of course you do…" you murmured, not meeting his eyes. "Now leave me alone, I'm embarrassed".
A throaty laugh escaped his mouth, not letting you push him away like you had playfully tried to do, and instead tugging at your wrist. "Noo, come here".
Before you could even protest, he was pulling you to his lap. You straddled it like he wanted, arms naturally resting over his shoulders while his hands fell loosely over your lower back.
You couldn't help but look around for a moment, suddenly hitting you that you were in a public place and anyone could see how lovey dovey you were being.
Luckily for you, the sun had just set completely and the beach was pretty much dessert — the only people who were still there were either friends catching up on their lives or couples who were already too into their own worlds to pay attention to anything else.
Two fingers on your chin brought your attention back to Hyunjin. His nose rubbed gently against yours and his lips brushed yours ever so softly.
"Kiss me" he whispered.
You rested your forehead on his and cupped his cheek before you whispered, "In front of all these people? While I'm sitting on your lap?"
"That's what I said".
"You think you'll be able to control yourself?"
He snorted quietly, shaking his head in amusement before he cupped your cheek instead and pressed his mouth to yours.
Guess you would just have to find out.
The hand of yours that was still over his shoulder tightened around his neck, right as his hand on your back pushed your chest closer to his and his tongue traced your bottom lip for you to open up. Once you did and your tongues met one another, he couldn't hold back the small contented sigh that abandoned his mouth.
The kiss was soft, slow, tender — not a single rush in the world as it felt like you were the only two people in it that night.
"I love you…"
It wasn't coming out of your lips this time, but out of his.
It came out as a whisper, barely audible if it weren't for his mouth being attached to yours, but there was not a single hint of hesitation in his voice.
Your eyes opened in a heartbeat, being met with his genuine yet surprised ones, as the words had seemed to have slipped out of his mouth before he could even notice.
Maybe it was that easy to say those three words after all.
"What?" you asked in a whisper, pulling him slightly away by his shoulders. "No, Jinnie, I didn't… I wasn't expecting y—I wasn't trying to pressure you when I said—"
Your trembling rambling was shut down with a soft kiss of his.
"You really think I would say it if I didn't mean it? After how fucking hard I tried to avoid love all these years?"
"Why didn't you say it back at the exhibition then?" you frowned.
"I froze," he shamefully admitted. "I wanted to say it back so bad but I just couldn't get the words out".
"You mean it?" you whispered, still in disbelief.
"Of course I mean it. I've been struggling not to say it for a while now, too, but then you said it first… twice… and I guess I got too stunned to say anything back".
"Seems like I'm always one step ahead of you when it comes to love" you proudly stated.
"That you are" he agreed, smiling sweetly while his thumb drew small circles on your chin. "I really love you, Y/N".
You pouted, feeling like you could cry out of happiness right then and there. "I love you, too".
He pulled you into a kiss, probably the happiest one you had shared, as the curved up corners of your lips and the breathy laughs escaping them made it hard for you to suck on them.
"Is that why you brought me here?" you asked against his pink mouth. "To tell me this?"
He bit his lip, lowering his head and fidgeting with your fingers. "It was actually so I could ask you to be my girlfriend…"
Your heart skipped a beat, having to take a moment not to let out a squeal. "You planned to ask me at the beach all along?"
"No, um… I was supposed to ask you at the exposition, actually" he tilted his head. "But then you told me you loved me and I froze and, well…"
"You really had that much of a hard time trying to ask me?"
"No, I mean, I don't know?" he whined. "You're just, you".
"What is that supposed to mean?" you laughed under your breath.
"It means that I wanted it to be perfect but then again I still get so nervous around you and feelings are still ugh, and I get all—you make me so flustered, woman".
You threw your head back, this time laughing with your whole chest over how cute his troubled expression was.
"Aw, I love that" coming back to look at him, you pulled him in to kiss his nose. "You're adorable".
"That's not really the reaction I was going for…" he joked.
"You know it didn't have to be perfect, right? You could've just asked me while we were hanging out back at yours or mine, or even after class for all I care" you tenderly pushed back a strand of hair that was covering his eye. "I would've said yes regardless".
"I asked you when we were in bed the first time and you said no" he pouted.
"You were drunk," you reminded him, earning an obnoxiously cute shrug from him. "I wanted you to mean it when you said it".
"I did mean it" he fought.
"I wanted you to say it without the influence of alcohol in the middle then".
"Alcohol made it easier, though" Hyunjin pouted.
You cupped his face as a small laugh escaped your mouth. "I bet it did" your thumb traced the corner of his mouth, where you pressed a light kiss to. "And for the record, I never said no".
"You told me to ask you again when I was sober".
"Which made it implicit that I was saying yes".
"Are you saying yes now then?"
"If you ask me properly…" you sighed over-dramatically. "Then possibly".
"You're just playing with me at this point" he recriminated, earning an amused chuckle from you.
"Maybe…" you taunted him, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Do you know the implications of me becoming your girlfriend, though, Hwang Hyunjin?"
"Of course I know," he smirked, pulling you in. "It means you'll be all mine".
You bit your bottom lip. "It also means you'll be all mine, though".
He shrugged. "I've already been for a while now".
"I've also been yours for a while now. A pretty good while, actually".
Hyunjin chuckled, his hand running up and down your back. "Maybe, but now I'll be able to go up to any douchebag who tries to hit on you and let them know you're mine".
"Haven't you already done that?" you chuckled, and his smirk only grew. "You even used the word 'girlfriend' if I'm not mistaken, which I was not back then".
His plump lips trapped your bottom one in between, gently sucking on it before he slowly pulled at it with his teeth.
"Be my girlfriend then? For real?" he mumbled against your lips, and you felt like you would die when his hungry eyes stared at your mouth for a couple of seconds before they went up to your eyes.
You nodded, because words were not something you could speak anymore.
"Words, baby" he pushed it. "I need you to say it".
"Of course I'll be your girlfriend, Jinnie".
His eyes turned into two crescent moons, and suddenly you realised why the moon reminded you of him. With a breathy giggle leaving his mouth, he pulled you into another kiss — the first one you would share as an official couple.
Looking back at it, you couldn't believe you were living all this with the guy who used to avoid your attempts —or avoid you as a whole— and who claimed not to want a relationship, ever. You couldn't believe your feelings were returned in the end, and that he actually wanted to be with you in a serious, formal relationship.
But here you were, in a Busan beach after the sun went down, sitting on his lap while one of his hands remained on your lower back and the other one on your nape, sharing a kiss that somehow managed to be more special than all the others you had shared that day.
"What's so funny?" he wondered when a small, breathy laugh ran past your lips.
"I managed to get you in the end, huh?" you giggled, earning an amused roll of eyes from him. "Was I too charming for you not to fall for me, baby?"
"Don't let it get to your head" he warned you.
"Oh, I would never" you smirked.
Hyunjin shook his head in amusement, pulling you in to plant a kiss on your forehead right as you shivered. "It's getting cold..." he pointed out, looking around to realise there was no one else at the beach anymore. "Let's go back to the hotel, yeah?"
You nodded, standing up from his lap and offering him a hand to help him up before you could pick up the half emptied cups of coffee. "Should we get something to eat?"
"You're hungry?" he asked while putting his backpack on.
"Not really," you shrugged, handing him his coffee. "But it's late…"
"We could order some food later" he suggested, pulling you closer and stealing a lingering kiss from your addictive lips. "Just want to head straight to our hotel room now".
"I'm guessing you did bring a condom this time around?" you teased, although you both knew you were half serious.
"Tsk. Of course I did. Learned my lesson the hard way with you" he shook his head. "Besides, I was being quite optimistic about today".
"Oh, were you now?"
"Mhm..." he nodded, interlocking his fingers with yours before you started walking back to the hotel. "I actually brought like fifteen of them".
You laughed. "Don't test your luck, Hwang Hyunjin".
"You did say we had all night to ourselves".
"You said that".
"And you agreed".
Hearing your laugh right then and feeling you lean closer to him in look for warmth, he could only feel the luckiest to have you with him.
Things had not exactly gone according to plan today, and despite it making him upset at first, it was that little detour what allowed him to hear you say you loved him. And although it took him a while, he, too, had told you he loved you.
It was that little detour what allowed him to ask you to be his girlfriend without feeling like his heart would break out of his chest at any given moment — though he did still feel nervous when he asked you anyway. But it was natural, the words had made their way out of his mouth effortlessly, not even giving him time to chicken out like he had done a couple of times by now.
And somehow, that little moment of yours at the beach, ignoring the world around you as nothing and no one else seemed to matter, had been so much more special than anything he could've ever planned.
In the end, he realised he didn't have to try so hard and instead let things take their own course and go on their own pace. When it came to you, no matter what happened, you would be able to find your way back to each other. The two of you could always count on that.
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klaineccfanficlibrary · 2 months
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do you know if any fics or one shots where cooper is like a proper dick, very self centred and blaine doesn’t forgive him please? i love a good bit of drama! thanks !
The Klaine fandom tends to love Cooper, and he is redeemed in many fics, so it's hard to find some that he remains a proper dick in! Here are some where he does, or Kurt/Blaine's pov before they talk in BB. Any other suggestions would be great! ~ Jen
it takes a strong hand and a strong mind by worstthingiveeverdone
Blaine Anderson is fucked, to put it lightly.
He’s happily engaged to Kurt Hummel, but he hasn’t told his parents about the engagement.
Basically, a study of Blaine, Blaine’s family, and the way a house is not a home.
Title from Noah Kahan’s you’re gonna go far
~~~~~ I'm Not leaving by nerdy_writer_65
Set sometime during/after 'Big Brother' Kurt finds his boyfriend breaking down in the boy's locker room.
~~~~~
Truth Time, Cooper by Fettuccine_Anderhummel
A one-shot that happens in season 3, episode 15 (Big Brother).
Right before Kurt meets up with Blaine and gives him the stuffed animal and asks him to go talk to Cooper, Kurt bumps into Cooper on his way and gives him a piece of his mind. Canon Compliant.
~~~~~
Brothers by kirafumi
“No, it’s not a Broadway thing,” Blaine says flatly. “It’s a gay thing.”
~~~~~
Two au:
The Warbler Interview by @little-escapist
Kurt is very excited about his first assignment as a journalist: he’ll interview the new boy band sensation, the Warblers. It means he’ll get to talk to the most handsome man alive, Cooper Anderson.
But once Kurt meets the band – Cooper, sarcastic Sebastian, boy-next-door Sam, and Cooper’s brother Blaine – it’s the younger Anderson that steals his heart over the course of a single night.
~~~~~
Barking Up the Wrong Bakery by maanorchidee @forabeatofadrum
Kurt is the biggest dog party planner in Los Angeles. When his usual dog bakery cancels on Kurt, he’s in the dire need of a last minute replacement. Luckily, he comes across the Dalton Doggy dog bakery, which is run by Blaine and Cooper Anderson. Cooper’s a mess, but Blaine manages to charm Kurt. Will Kurt be able to keep it professional?
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francis-writes · 5 months
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95 cazador szarr !! (the worst man)
A/N: I love your choice lol It was a bit complicated because it's basically a chant for Odin, reciting his many names and titles (Wise One, Wolfspeaker, God of the Hanged, Pale One, Attacking Rider etc) so I decided to make au where Cazador manages to ascend and you are his consort (but in all honesty, you feel more like a humble worshipper)
Living with Cazador, even as his lover, was never easy and normal person could hardly call it a relationship. But when he promised to make you his consort after ascension, for a little moment you hoped that something would change for the better. That you would get more respect, and - what’s more important - feel safer in his palace.
Of course, all hopes fell apart.
Sure, Cazador reached his godhood. Everyday he gained new powers and abilities. As his consort, you lived like royalty. Other spawns respected you, mostly out of fear of Cazador. You didn't need to worry about landing in the dungeons or getting tortured... at least as long as you obeyed your Master. Who seemed to be more emotionally distant from you each day.
Cazador Szarr never was a partner you could have a heart-to-heart conversation with, but before he was at least normal person. Undead but still made of blood and flesh. He was your powerful Master but he still could be hurt, he still seemed to have human emotions. Now he only focused on expanding his power and building his empire. Carnal pleasures now interested him less than constant meetings with gods or Hell lords. Now you were less afraid for your own fate, than worried what his intrigues can bring upon you both.
At this moment, you were laying in your shared bed, and observing Cazador leaning over some letter. You slept with him as his spouse but if you could, you would spend that time anywhere else. You were afraid to move and break this silence as if you were in some temple during adoration.
Eventually you pulled yourself together and asked in a quiet gentle voice:
"Master?"
No matter how close you were, you didn't feel like it was proper to call him by his name, especially, when he became something god-like. Cazador himself never suggested that you could adress him different so you prefered not to risk his reaction.
He looked up from the document.
"Yes, pet?"
"Can I... somehow help you? Do you have any command for me, Master?"
He smiled but it didn't comfort you a little bit.
"I'm grateful for your devotion but there's nothing you could help me with"
He stood up, came closer to bed and took your face in his cold hand, caressing your cheek with his thumb.
"You're my beloved consort but you wouldn't understand things I am now invested in. It's too much for the mortal minds... your only duty now is to stay by my side forever. And never go against my will"
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bluegekk0 · 3 months
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what kinds of nicknames does the au family use? I'm kinda assuming that The Couple has like a million nicknames for each other
I'll start with the two gays cause you're right, they have the most nicknames. And I haven't really thought much about nicknames for the others, so we'll see how that goes haha
Grimm definitely uses nicknames all the time, especially for FPK. There's Dear Wyrm, My Wyrm, Beloved Wyrm, basically anything that's his name with an affectionate adjective before it. There's Darling, Love/My Love, Sweetheart/Sweetie is another one he says often, there's even an occasional Baby. Then there's other nicknames. I really like the idea of him calling FPK Dumpling lovingly, just to emphasize his softness and round shapes, in a way that reminds FPK that Grimm absolutely loves him in every shape and form. And of course, he has plenty of suggestive nicknames for him as well, and those are sure to make FPK blush like crazy. Generally he keeps coming up with new affectionate names for him, and there's so many that no one in the family can keep up. I imagine there were many situations where Hornet heard him say a completely new one and was like "did you seriously just call him that?". She just doesn't get it...
FPK unfortunately isn't as creative with nicknames, he can't possibly match the sheer creativity Grimm offers him, and he usually resorts to just saying his name and usually adding a loving adjective in front of it. Dear Grimm and My Grimm are the ones he uses the most often, though if he's feeling inspired he may say something along the lines of My Flame, but that's very rare. He'll also call Grimm Love frequently, though usually in the "Grimm, Love" format. Grimm really likes hearing his name in FPK's voice, and the latter definitely noticed. No need for FPK to use his creative juices when just purring Grimm's name is enough to get the other's full attention.
Hornet doesn't use many affectionate nicknames, she calls FPK Dad, and everyone else with their name. Though she does call Zote many nicknames. Buffoon is part of her daily vocabulary at this point and it's all thanks to him. Imbecile hits hard, but she really likes Blockhead in particular. Bonehead is another one she uses, but Zote keeps arguing that she's just stating a fact. He's not the brightest. As for what nicknames others call her, there's Dear Hornet, the most frequent one used by FPK, and he used to call her My Baby Girl when she was young (she thinks it's embarrassing). Grimm used to call her Little Spider, and he still does it jokingly now. Zote often bites back in response to her insults and mockingly calls her Princess, which usually earns him a mouth full of puddle water. Holly often refers to her with Dear Sister in writing, though she prefers if they just say her name.
Holly doesn't really use nicknames either, mainly since they can't speak, though they sometimes call the family members with affectionate adjectives in writing. Mostly Dear, though. It's something FPK used to say a lot when they were growing up in the palace, particularly towards WL and other important bugs in the court, but I like the idea of him slipping one time and calling them Dear Vessel. So that stuck with them, and now they use it all the time to refer to others. Dear Father, Dear Grimm (though they do sometimes refer to him as their father) and so on. Even Zote gets called Dear Zote by Holly, though he always tells them to scribble that out and instead call him by his proper title, Zote the Mighty. Holly also gets affectionate names from both FPK and Grimm, there's the classic Dear Holly coming from FPK, though he often emphasizes their relationship by calling them My Child, My Sweet Child, or anything like that. Grimm also frequently calls them My Child, Sweet Holly or Flower.
Zote mainly uses insulting nicknames, usually in his squabbles with Hornet. And he gets pretty creative with it. He sometimes calls Holly Nuts and Bolts referring to their scrap arm, though it's noticeably less hostile than his usual nicknames, plus Holly doesn't mind it. He once called Grimm Wacko Vampire which made him laugh for a good minute. FPK doesn't get his own nickname, but Zote always calls him Your Crazy Dad when talking to Hornet. Hornet gets Princess thrown at her in a mocking way like mentioned earlier, and there's probably other names he calls her that I'm not creative enough to come up with now. The kids are mostly safe from insulting nicknames, though he called Lewk a Mangy Varmint once when telling him to stop chewing on his cloak. He also gets some nicknames from the others. Excluding the ones Hornet calls him, there's Little Jester coming from Grimm, for example.
Lewk often calls his dads Papa or simply Dad, though when specifying who he's talking to, he'll often add their name at the front, so Grimmdad and Wyrmdad. The others he calls by their names.
Asta and Milo can barely speak and have trouble pronouncing the names, so they just say Papa when trying to get the attention of Grimm or FPK. Just like Lewk, they try to call the others using their names, Holly is the easiest for them to say, the rest they just mumble while trying to get them right.
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j-nipper-95 · 27 days
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An ask game for writers to procrastinate working on your WIP(s)
Thank you for the tags @artsyunderstudy @iamamythologicalcreature @aristocratic-otter @shrekgogurt @wellbelesbian @theearlgreymage and @ic3-que3n
I am definitely procrastinating on both my WIPs at the moment. Trails is back in limbo, and ASR has taken up permanent residence there recently, and I desperately want to get back to both of them. Here's hoping this will kick start something in my brain! I do love a good Q&A, so let's dive in!
1. 🦈 Tell us the name of your/one of your WIP(s):
I have two WIPs I am actively writing, and one I haven't started on yet, but desperately want to. The Trails We Blaze was my Carry On Through the Ages 2023 fic, and is a The Road to El Dorado!au. Then there's my original novel, A Survivor's Revenge, which I've been writing for far too long and it definitely needs to be published soon!
2. 🍄 Describe your WIP/one of your WIP(s) in the format of "___ + ___ = ___"
Ok, this is much harder than I thought it would be, there's so many elements to each of these WIPs, so bare with me.
Trails: con men in 1920s London find map to Atlantis + WW1 trauma + gang warfare + repressed romantic feelings = friends to lovers action, adventure, and chaos across western Europe that's probably been too intensely researched for the sake of historical accuracy
(Side note: this isn't how I thought I'd use my degrees in history and archaeology, but here we are!)
A Survivor's Revenge: marvel cinematic universe + James Bond = ASR
or - what would happen if Bucky wasn't brainwashed by Hydra and sought revenge on the scientists who experimented on him, was a 14 year old school girl instead of a grown man, and had elemental powers + MI6 super spies and the general aesthetic of a Bond movie = a stab first/ask questions later FMC willing to do whatever it takes to keep her loved ones safe (and I do mean whatever it takes - Lauren hasn't baulked at anything I've thrown at her yet).
3. 🌍 What tags or warnings will one of your WIP(s) need if you intend to share it.
ASR will definitely need some trigger warnings for violence (if only because of Lauren's penchant for it), and if it were being posted to AO3 the series as a whole would probably require a 'main character death' warning. This is your formal warning, no one is safe in my writing.
Trails is rated M, so there's not going to be anything too graphic or explicit, but it does have a PTSD tag, as the fic tackles both Baz and Simon's trauma from living through the First World War, and specifically Baz's claustrophobia. So I would probably warn about the panic attacks and discussion of how Baz became claustrophobic.
4. 🧭 An alternative title to one of your WIP(s)?
Neither of these had alternative titles other than my save names (Spy Novel and SnowBaz fanfic) before I decided on anything. I'm useless at coming up with titles, and I can't really claim full credit for either. A friend from uni came up with A Survivor's Revenge, which is really fitting, as revenge is a major theme in the book. And The Trails We Blaze is a reference to one of the songs from the movie The Road to El Dorado, and was Ashton's suggestion when we were bouncing ideas back and forth last year.
5. ⚠️ Which WIP you're most likely to finish or update next?
Trails will definitely be finished before ASR, purely because ASR is going to be published as a proper book, and I don't have the cash to do this independently, or the publishing deal to do it traditionally. So I know this will take time. But I am currently working on the next chapter of Trails, so hopefully it won't be too long before I can post it.
6. 💾 What is your document of your WIP/a WIP called? (not the stories actual title but what you've saved it as)
I have so many variations of both WIPs it's ridiculous. I swear there's been 100+ iterations of ASR over the years, all with variations on either A Survivor's Revenge/ASR or Spy Novel as their title.
With Trails I have my base document, which is where the rough first draft happens, in Scrivener: the trails we blaze - draft copy. And then I also have my final document in pages, where I fix the formatting ahead of exporting to AO3 (because AO3 hates it when I do it straight from scrivener and gets rid of all my italics!): the trails we blaze upload copy.
7. 🖍 Post any sentence(s) from your WIP.
This is probably one of my favourite exchanges in the first ASR book.
“Just like old times,” Lauren said. “Tell me, did you consciously decide to make my PTSD worse by assigning him to me, or was that a happy accident?” “What’s the diagnosis?” Vanessa asked, ignoring Lauren. “Fractured ribs, minor internal abdominal bleeding, concussion, and three broken fingers. She needs to rest for at least a week,” Todd said. “She has a name,” Lauren muttered. “The internal bleeding is minor for the moment, but won’t be if she doesn’t rest.” “Who’s ‘she’ in this, the cat’s mother? I am here, you know.” “Yes, and whilst I would love to trade witticisms with you, I do actually have a job to do. Part of which involves divulging a diagnosis, and pardon me if I feel certain people in this room are going to be more receptive and actually take my advice when I give it.” Lauren glanced at Vanessa. “Is he always like this?” “Just with patients. And most of the people who work here.” “So, everyone?” Vanessa thought for a moment, then bobbed her head from side to side in a movement that said Pretty much, yeah. “If we’re quite done discussing my conduct, I do actually have other patients who need my attention.” “Poor sods.” “Yes, of course,” Vanessa said, ignoring Lauren’s comments. “Have you got a treatment plan sorted?” “I’m nothing if not professional.” “Did someone switch the definition of ‘sarcastic asshat’ and ‘professional’ in the dictionary when I wasn’t looking?” Todd twisted ever so slightly away from Lauren, instead focusing entirely on Vanessa.
8. ♻️ A scrapped idea for your current WIP.
Initially in ASR Lauren was framed for the murder of a student, alongside releasing the main villain from prison (not a spoiler, it's literally in my synopsis, no worries there!), and afterward she was forced to go on the run. Essentially, it made the heads of MI6 and Lauren's best friends into her enemies for a few chapters of my drafts a couple of years back. I loved this idea, and genuinely want to implement something along these lines again, because it was an interesting position to put the characters in, but I also really love where the plot is taking them currently, so we'll see if it truly ends up remaining scrapped or not.
9. 🤔 What's a story you'd love to write but haven't even started yet?
Another original novel, this time firmly rooted in science fiction (no superhero/light fantasy elements here), where time travel is possible, but the super anxious MC refuses to use his powers to travel back in time because of the side effects of said power. Gay romance, anxiety, angst, all the good stuff!
10. 🤡 How many WIPs are you actively working on?
I'm not too active on either of my WIPs at the moment. Work's been crazy lately, and I flip between feeling super burnt out creatively and being too tired to do much. But Trails and ASR continue to be my most active WIPs.
11. 🛠 Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now?
In Trails I've hit an intimate scene, and my little ace brain doesn't know how to approach it! Plus, I don't know how far I can stretch the M rating before we enter E territory.
12. ❤️ Not a question, just a second Kudos to send.
All of the kudos to everyone! I wish there was a way to leave it more than once, because seriously, the CO fandom is so unbelievably talented, my God!!
Tagging (sorry if you’ve already done this):
@blackberrysummerblog
@orange-peony
@you-remind-me-of-the-babe
@palimpsessed
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fitrahgolden · 2 months
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Hold My Hand, I'll Walk With You: A Weary Memory Prequel
 [NOTE: This is a short prequel to my previous story, Weary Memory. You don’t need to have read it (but you should know that in this AU the timeline of their parents’ deaths is very different from canon). This is simply a very fluffy “when Kate met Anthony” story.
Title is from “Little Talks” by Of Monsters and Men, lyrics by Nanna Bryndís Hilmarsdóttir and Ragnar Þórhallsson.]
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Kate knew she should get back to socialising. She’d been having a genuinely good time at her first house party since moving to Oxford a few weeks ago. She mingled. She danced. She got loads of unsolicited advice from older students.
She'd taken a break from the nonstop conversations and stationed herself next to the chocolate fountain because, well, she wasn't expecting a chocolate fountain at a university party, and now the delicious setup was too good to abandon.
She was deciding between pineapple, strawberry, and angel food cake when a voice beside her broke through the homogenised hum of the party.
“I’d go with the pineapple,” he said, his tone suggesting he thought he was really helping her out.
Kate looked up and observed the stranger through narrow eyes before plucking a strawberry from the tray. She made a show of holding the fruit underneath the flowing chocolate, then stepped aside and waved a hand towards the space in front of the buffet she’d just vacated.
“Be my guest,” she said with a supercilious smile before taking a bite. She hadn’t meant to be this bold, keeping eye contact with a handsome man while eating a chocolate covered strawberry. Perhaps she was pulling it off, if the way he looked back at her was any indication. At least she managed not to roll her eyes back and moan like a proper seductress.
He looked away from her to pay attention to the spread, and Kate took the opportunity to shake herself out of whatever had moved her to be so brazen. She sipped the dregs of her drink and avoided watching him eat, but looked back at him just in time to see him lick some chocolate off of his thumb. Oh, give me a break.
“Can I help you with anything? Get you another drink?”
Kate shook her head, placing her glass down. “No, I’m good for now.”
He nodded, apparently losing none of the confidence he seemed to have a bit too much of. “Are you here with anyone?”
“One of my housemates.” Kate looked beyond him to quickly survey the room. “Well, she's here somewhere. She knows someone who knows…um, whose ever flat this is.”
“Bert Fife and Caleb Cho,” the man provided helpfully.
“Ah. I take it that you actually know them?”
“Sometimes I wish I didn’t, but yes. You, uh… You danced with Caleb earlier, actually.”
“Ha, did I really?”
“Yeah.” He pointed out the man in question across the room.
“Oh, him. Right. What a slag. I'll dance with anyone. Names are optional.”
“I wasn't–I mean…” He suddenly looked sheepish. “I just happened to notice you before. And now, I guess. You're very…noticeable.” The loss of some of his swagger was kind of adorable to witness.
“Am I?”
He nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Which makes me think this must be your first year. Or maybe you're a transfer, a Cambridge escapee? I haven't seen you around.”
Kate could not have stopped the laugh that bubbled out of her if she tried. “You haven't seen me around? That's hardly surprising in a sea of thousands of students, is it?” She raised an eyebrow at him.
“No. No, I suppose it's not.” A hint of a wince pulled at his lips.
“Would you like to try a different line? Perhaps one better suited for the environment?” Kate asked encouragingly.
“Oh, think I'm trying to chat you up, do you?” His casual tone was betrayed by the blush creeping up his neck and the tips of his ears.
Kate’s own confidence shook a bit. Could I really be misreading this? “Surely, you can understand why I'd think that.”
Anthony took an eager step towards her. “Oh, absolutely. Mostly because I am, but it doesn't seem to be going too well.”
“No, but not too poorly, either.” She touched his shoulder. He looked at her hand and back at her.
“Oh? Care to help me out at all?”
Kate dropped her hand, and picked up her empty glass for something to fiddle with. “You could just ask me my name. It's not terribly creative, but you’ll find I'm a fan of practicality over flair.”
“Ah. Very helpful, indeed.”
There were several beats where they said nothing, just looked at each other.
Kate bobbed her head in confusion. “Well?”
“I can't very well ask immediately after you tell me to, now can I?” His smile was sly.
With a roll of her eyes, Kate asked, “What's your name, then?”
“Wait– Are you chatting me up?”
“Possibly.” Kate shrugged, trying her damndest to remain breezy.
“I'm Anthony.”
“Anthony?” she asked, with a hard “th.”
He shook his head.
“Anthony,” he enunciated. “With a ‘ta.’“
The way Anthony exaggerated the consonant sound drew Kate's attention to his mouth and the way his tongue peeked out just a little from between his teeth. I wonder if that's a move. He has lines, so surely he also has moves. I bet that “with a ‘ta'” nonsense is the only reason he pronounces it that way. 
Kate realised too late her gaze was lingering on his mouth, looking up only once Anthony started smirking. And I totally fell for it, damn him.  
Anthony with a “ta” put a hand on the wall behind Kate, and his forearm brushed against her shoulder as he leaned forward. “Would you like me to demonstrate again? Up close this time?”
Kate rolled her eyes. Definitely a move. “No, thanks. I'm a quick study, Anthony.” She noted it must work both ways, judging by how Anthony's eyes darted down to her lips. “Sounds quite posh, pronounced the proper way. Suits you.”
“Why doesn't that sound like a compliment?”
Kate tilted her head to one side, and Anthony seemed to reflexively tilt his head the same way as his eyes stayed trained on hers. “Perhaps because it isn't.”
“Well, if your name isn't the epitome of humbleness, I'll be very disappointed.”
“Kate,” she said simply. “Unassuming enough for you?”
He didn’t respond immediately. His eyes were roaming her face. Once his gaze fell back to hers, he said, “I think it's beautiful. Suits you.”
Kate looked down at her feet, unsure how to respond to that.
“Did I just lose points?” The question was laced with genuine concern.
“No.” Kate shook her head and looked back up at Anthony. “No, that was…sweet. I'll reward you by telling you you were right.”
“I love hearing that.”
“I'm not even a little bit surprised.”
“What specifically am I right about, though?”
“I am a first year.”
“What are you going to study?”
“Fine art.”
Anthony lit up. “Oh, yeah? My brother’s in London at the Royal College of Art. He’s brilliant.”
“Oh, cool.” Please don’t try to set me up with you brother. “And what about you?”
“Creative writing.”
“Ooh, you’re a writer.”
“Eh, at this point calling myself a writer would be an insult to writers, I think. But, someday soon, I hope. My family owns a publishing company, so I’ll have a huge audience anticipating my failure.”
Kate furrowed her brows. “Not your family, surely.”
“No, no. My parents are…stiflingly supportive. I mean everyone else at the company. They’re certain I wouldn’t have a prayer without having my family to publish my work.”
Kate said nothing, but he must have read her face.
“You think they’re right,” he said, smiling.
Kate raised her hands, “Look, I don’t know you. You could be brilliant. But nepotism is alive and well, is all.”
Anthony nodded. “No, I understand. I can’t deny I’m in a very privileged position.”
“At least you’re aware. The bar is low, but that’s not nothing.”
Their conversation moved along easily, at a fast clip. Kate eventually felt comfortable enough to let Anthony get her another drink. About an hour later, they were still talking, side by side against a wall in the corner, their arms brushing.
“Hey,” Anthony whispered as he turned to look at Kate.
“Yes?”
“Would it be alright if I kissed you?”
A surprised laugh escaped her without her permission. Anthony seemed unfazed. He just continued to search her eyes with his, waiting.
“Yeah,”  Kate whispered. The room might have been too loud for Anthony to even hear her. “That would be alright.”
She leaned toward him and he met her in the middle. It was soft and tentative. Certainly softer than Kate thought he would kiss her, because she had definitely been thinking about it for the better part of their conversation, and hoped he had been to.
After the first careful meeting, Anthony put a hand up to Kate's jaw, slaying his fingers over her cheek and throat, but applying no pressure, not until his thumb pressed down just beneath her bottom lip, and Kate opened her mouth in response. It was too loud to hear their sighs and moans, so they relied on the accompanying vibrations for feedback. Presumably feeling the need to breathe, Anthony started to back away. Kate let him go, but not before nipping his bottom lip.
“...Kit,” he groaned.
Kate tutted, and their noses brushed as she shook her head. “And things were going so well. Already calling me the wrong name?”
“Never.” Anthony looked dazed. “No one calls you that?”
“No,” she laughed, bemused. “Why would they?”
“I don't know. It just…” He looked down at her lips and made a lazy path back up to her eyes. “...feels right.”
“Because your last Kate was called Kit?” It was a joke, but it sounded a bit too mean to her ears when she heard it come out of her mouth. Anthony didn't seem offended, though. Maybe there was a last Kate. His gaze was piercing when he responded. 
“As far as I'm concerned, no other Kate exists.”
Oh.
“I have to give it to you, being renamed after one kiss, that's a new one for me,” Kate said, trying to regain her footing.
“Me, too.” He absentmindedly twisted a lock of her hair around his finger, threatening to throw her right back off balance. “Can I keep calling you that?”
“I think…” Kate started, but cleared her throat when her voice sounded annoyingly breathless. “Whether I want you to keep calling me anything at all remains to be seen.”
“That's fair. I think you like it, though.” He was obviously quite pleased with himself.
“I…” Kate tried her best to muster a glare. “It remains to be seen,” she repeated weakly.
Anthony’s smile was warm. “May I take you somewhere?”
Kate’s eyebrows shot up. “Um… Where were you thinking?”
“The White Rabbit, have you heard of it? It’s close.”
While Kate thought about it, Anthony quickly added, “Or I could just drop you off at yours, and we could talk more on the way.”
“Let me see your licence.” Kate held her hand out as Anthony dutifully dug for his wallet. She exaggeratedly scrutinised the card. “Alright, Anthony…Bridgerton. I’d love some real food. I'm just gonna take a picture of you to send to my housemates.”
Anthony backed up so Kate could take a picture, but he kept making faces, and she couldn’t stop laughing.
“Stop posing!” Kate commanded. “Think of this as a passport photo.
“My passport photo is amazing, actually.”
“Ugh, shut up.” Kate sent the photo she deemed most appropriate to her housemates’ text thread.
>> Leaving the party with this bloke, Anthony Bridgerton. DO wait up.
Kate looked up from her phone to see Anthony looking at her, seemingly impressed.
“What?”
“I need to remember to tell my sisters to pick up the same habit.”
Kate nodded vigorously. “Please do. So, a brother and at least two sisters. How many siblings do you have?”
“Seven.”
“Fuck off.” Kate covered her mouth as Anthony barked out a laugh.“I mean, no disrespect to your parents, but…damn.”
Anthony was thankful that the pub wasn’t too busy. He led Kate to a booth and had to suppress a grin when Kate pulled him down to sit on her side. They didn’t move from their seats until it was closing time. 
“Let me take you home,” he said after he closed out their tab and they started walking towards the door.
Kate hesitantly took his hand, squeezing when he did.
“OK.”
It seemed unbelievable that they had more to talk about on the drive to her house, but they did. Along the way, Anthony inched his hand onto Kate’s thigh, smiling smugly to himself when she squirmed a little and rested her hand on top of his. Again, the time passed too quickly, and before he knew it, she was pointing out her house and he was pulling up to the curb.
“Can I have your number?” Kate asked as the car came to a stop, surprising him.
He laughed as he ran a finger under his bottom lip. “Damn, Kit. You beat me to it.”
“Is that a yes, then?” He’d say yes to anything if she smiled at him like that. He was sure of it.
“Yes, please.”
When Kate passed Anthony her phone, he chuckled when he saw she filled in his name as “Anthony with a ‘ta.’” Once they’d shared numbers, they sat in silence, looking at each other like idiots. Finally, Kate sighed.
“I’m gonna go.” There was no conviction in her voice. In fact, it almost sounded like a question.
“OK.”
“Thanks for dinner.”
“Thanks for letting me take you.”
More silence. The mood in the car was odd, but not uncomfortably so. Anthony just didn’t want the night to end yet, so she was going to have to make the first move.
And she did, but it was not the move he was expecting.
She leaned across the centre console, threw her arms around him, and kissed him.
It was hard to keep up with everything as it happened. Anthony slid his seat backward, too slow for Kate who was already clambering into his lap. He could feel her undoing the buttons of his shirt while he was preoccupied with pulling out the elastic that was holding most of her hair back. Anthony threaded his fingers through her tresses until he reached the nape of her neck. He gripped it tightly as his tongue slid across her lips and into her mouth. Kate whined, grinding down on him as she sucked on his tongue. He slid his other hand along the outside of her thigh, her skirt having almost completely ridden up to her waist, then he pulled back to gasp in some air.
“Can I come inside?” he asked before bringing their lips back together.
She sighed back at him. “No.”
He kissed her jaw, her neck, her shoulder.
“Can I take you to mine instead? I don’t have housemates.”
“Good to know, but not tonight.”
The sound he made was somewhere between a chuckle and a groan as he matched her grinding with his own.
“Tell me what I can do, then, Kit. Please,” he whispered into her hair.
She pulled back. They were both panting as she seemed to think about it. “You can call me Kit.” Her eyes sparkled playfully as she bit into her swollen lip.
“Good.” Both of his hands found her arse, and he kneaded it through the soft cotton material that covered it. “Anything else?”
“Text me,” she almost moaned.
He smiled as their foreheads rested against each other. “OK, I can do that.”
Kate brought both hands to Anthony’s face and brushed a finger across his lips, concentrating, perhaps debating something. “I really am going to go.” She looked up from his lips to his eyes.
“OK.” Anthony pulled her in for a kiss goodbye. She put a hand against his chest, as if it was a necessary measure to stop herself from falling back into him. After one last kiss to her temple, he let his arms fall to his sides. “Goodnight, Kit.”
Kate climbed out of his lap with as much grace as someone of her stature could manage in such a cramped space. She took a few moments to sort her clothes out before turning towards him.
“Goodnight, Anthony.”
With that, she was out of his chair and in a few steps, she was at her front door, keys in hand.
Anthony watched from his car. Turn around. Turn around.
Kate opened the door and disappeared. She hadn't turned around. He smiled to himself.
Next time. 
“This isn't a text.”
Anthony clinched his jaw as he held the phone against his ear. Kate’s voice was heavy and warm. He imagined her still in bed despite the late hour, like he was, and found himself very interested in what her bedroom might look like. Jesus Christ. A couple of words from her, and my cock is already twitching.
“Want me to hang up?” he asked.
“You wouldn't,” she haughtily challenged.
“I'd certainly hate to. Good morning, Kit.” Kit. He had no idea where that name came from last night, when he’d put his lips on Kate’s for the first time, but it felt good to say it. He’d chanted it over and over again when he got home last night and promptly finished what they’d started in his car.
“Good morning, Anthony with a ‘ta.’”
He could hear her smiling. This woman would be the death of him. Of that, he was certain.
“How did you sleep?” Don’t leave out any details.
“Not great.”
Anthony frowned. “No?”
“It's not a big deal. I'm used to it.”
There was something there, he could tell. “I'm sorry.”
“Thanks. Are you desperately trying to resist making a joke about helping me sleep?”
“It’s a bit early in the day for me to be desperate.” Tell that to your dick. “And Kit?”
“Yeah?”
“It wouldn't be a joke.” He was rewarded with a soft gasp. Anthony had gotten the impression that Kate was not often left speechless. “Let's go out tonight. Are you free?”
“You're serious?”
“Why wouldn't I be?”
“We just met yesterday.”
“Yes, I was there. And?”
“You really want to see me again so soon?”
What? He sighed, running his hand over his face in contemplation. “My gut tells me you aren't fishing for compliments–”
“I'm not!”
“Well, frankly,” he laughed, “that would be more believable than you actually being surprised that I want to go out with you. Last night was amazing. For me, anyway.”
“Me, too.”
Oh, thank fuck.
“Then I'll ask again. Can I see you tonight?”
“You can see me tonight.”
A knot in his stomach loosened. He'd never been this keen to go out with someone before. His brothers would have a field day with this.
Kate and Anthony settled on a walk through the botanical gardens then a film at the Ultimate Picture Palace. The theatre was relatively empty, and halfway through a movie they had both already seen, Anthony, who had been lightly running his fingers up and down Kate's neck, whispered into her ear.
“Would it be terribly cliché of me to kiss the fuck out of you right now?”
“Yes,” Kate hissed, trying not to laugh, a laugh that died as soon Anthony lightly grasped her chin and angled it towards him. 
“Can I do it anyway?”
Kate swallowed and nodded.
“Stay quiet, OK, Kit?”
Somehow, she did. They both did.
“Where to next?” Kate asked as they settled back into Anthony’s car.
“Oh, um…” Anthony was surprised, as it had felt like the night was winding down. “Am I taking you home?”
“You could…” Kate shrugged, “but if I remember correctly, which may not be the case as you were pulling down the neckline of my shirt with your teeth at the time, you said live alone.”
“I do,” Anthony confirmed, his voice strained.
“Granted, it’s been about twenty-four hours, but are you still interested in taking me to yours?”
“Very.” He’d answered so quickly, he surprised himself.
“Good.”
“I knew your place would be posh,” Kate teased as she took off her shoes and Anthony closed the door behind them.
He turned her around and pulled her so they were chest to chest. “Would you like a tour?”
She felt his hands sliding down her back and over her hips. “Yeah, I’d love one,” she said, unable to stop her giggle.
Anthony kissed his way along her jaw up to her ear before gruffly saying, “Then I’ll give you one tomorrow.”
Then his lips and teeth and tongue were mingling with hers as he pushed her backwards, walking her further into his flat. It didn’t take long before Kate was pressed up against a door. Her hands drifted down to Anthony’s belt, but before she could undo it, he grasped her wrists.
“Not yet, Kit,” he said in a rough whisper before bringing her wrists to his lips and kissing each one. He flashed her a roguish smirk as he sank to his knees before her. His expression changed to something tender and reverent. “Can I?” he asked, running a hand slowly up the inside of her leg.
Kate released a shuddering breath and nodded. “Yes.”
Anthony’s motions were fluid as he pushed her dress up, pulled her knickers down, and lifted a leg of hers onto his shoulder.
Soon, Kate was scrambling to hold on to the wall, the doorjamb, something, anything for support. With the hand that wasn’t teasing her clit, Anthony found and held on to one of Kate’s, intertwining their fingers and eventually guiding her hand into his hair. Kate obediently curled her fingers and held on. The moan that came from Anthony vibrated through her, to great effect.
“Use both hands if you need to,” he said before closing his mouth over her again.
She nodded vigorously as she combed her other hand into his hair, pulling when a manoeuvre of his surprised her in the best way possible, and she choked out a sob. When her climax hit her, she leaned over, and Anthony slayed a hand across her chest to hold her up as he rode her orgasm out with her, keeping up his attentions until Kate had to push him away, suddenly too sensitive to handle it. Kate wasn't a virgin, and a couple of guys had gone down on her in the past. But it had never been anything like that. Perhaps this was a perk of Anthony being three years older than her. Maybe it was a more significant age gap than she initially thought.
Anthony stood back up slowly, kissing her torso over her clothes until he was completely upright. He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her neck.
“Can you walk?”
Even though his tone was sweet, Kate wanted to roll her eyes. But frankly, no, she couldn’t walk. “Mm-mm.” She shook her head lazily. “I live against this door now.”
Anthony chuckled–the smug bastard– as he took a step back and placed his hands firmly on her hips.
“Jump.”
“What?”
“I’ll carry you. Jump.”
Feeling just a little bit silly, Kate jumped, and gasped when Anthony slid his hands under her bum and pulled her up so her legs wrapped around his waist on instinct. Her arms went around his neck.
“Good girl.”
Anthony opened the door he had taken her up against, revealing his bedroom. Not that Kate was taking in much of her surroundings. She was still blissed out when he laid her down on his bed.
“Are you alright?” he asked, sat beside her on the mattress, tracing his fingers across her collarbones.
“Yeah. Why are you still dressed?”
He laughed and stood up. He held her gaze as he undressed.
He’s beautiful.
Once he was naked, he crawled onto the bed and encouraged Kate to sit up so he could pull her dress over her head, leaving just her bra, which she quickly got rid of with an air of confidence that she didn’t quite feel.
At first, they just looked at each other, letting their eyes wander. Then Anthony leaned towards the nightstand beside Kate and grabbed a condom out of the drawer. He tossed it onto the bed before taking Kate’s face in his hands and kissing her soundly.
“Come here,” he whispered.
Anthony pulled Kate up to her knees and guided her until she was straddling him. He kissed her again before reaching for the condom. Kate lightly grabbed his wrist.
“Can I put it on?”
Anthony smiled at her as he tore the packet open and handed it to her. Kate reached below herself and started stroking him. They were panting in time with her hand and Anthony vigorously shook his head. “Fuck, you’ve got to stop, baby. I’m ready.”
Kate rolled the condom on and sunk down onto him. As soon as she was fully seated, Anthony started moving. She cradled his head in her arms, muttering in Tamil as occasional expletives fell from Anthony’s mouth. Suddenly, he pushed her onto her back. He slammed into her faster and harder as he pinned her arms above her head.
“Is this OK?” he gritted out between his teeth.
Kate nodded.
“Kit?”
“Yes, fuck!”
Holding her wrists in one hand, Anthony used the other between her legs, moving it relentlessly until she was crying out again, turning into putty beneath him.  About a minute later, he followed suit, groaning, cursing, repeating her name–well, his name for her.
“Kit, Kit, Kit.”
Anthony was startled awake by the sound of clattering coming from his kitchen. A second clang was accompanied by a harsh, “Aiyoh!”
After donning some underwear and a pair of tracksuit bottoms, Anthony set off to find Kate. She was at his stove, wearing her bra and some gym shorts of his, cinched to within an inch of their life just above her hips. It was perhaps the sexiest thing he'd ever seen. Whatever mess she had made of the pots and pans had been cleaned up, the kettle was on, and Kate was leaning over a frying pan.
“I feel like I should be making you breakfast the first time you stay at my flat.”
The first time. He probably shouldn’t have said that. He didn’t want to scare her off. But if his phrasing bothered her, Kate was good at hiding it. She looked up and smiled at him.
“Well, consider yourself in my debt, then.”
“Gladly.” Anthony wrapped an arm around her waist and murmured into her ear. “How soon can I make it up to you?” Her hair was gathered at the top of her head, and he nuzzled her neck as his hands wandered until she took a step away from him.
“Don’t distract me, Bridgerton. The tea is already going to be shitty. I can't even approximate proper chai since all you have is peppercorns and stale cinnamon sticks.”
“Hey, how many twenty year olds do you know who have any whole spices at all?”
“Loads. I’m Indian.”
“Point taken. What are you making?”
“Hotcakes. I make amazing hotcakes. At least, I do when–”she smacked his hand away from her arse “–I don’t have a sex pest at my back.”
“Sorry,” Anthony laughed.
“No, you aren’t.”
“You’re right.”
“I usually am. You’ll learn.”
Anthony bit back a grin at the implication that he’d see her again. He grabbed one of the hotcakes off the plate and took a bite. Kate’s giant eyes got even bigger when she noticed.
“Wait, you need jam!”
Anthony took another bite to spite her. “No, I don’t. These are delicious, Kit.”
Kate rolled her eyes. “Thanks. I actually prefer them to meetha pooda.” She paused and shook her head with a click of her tongue. “Itu aciṅkam,” she grumbled. “My mother would be so disappointed to hear that.”
“Your secret is safe with me.” He kissed her temple.
“No need. She died seven years ago.” She immediately winced, as if she hadn’t meant to say that. Over the past two nights, Kate hadn’t given any details about her parents whenever they talked about their families.
“Oh, shit. Kit, I'm so sorry.” Anthony pulled her to him, and he felt her relax a bit in his arms. It didn’t last long, though. She quickly stepped away from him.
“Thanks,” she muttered as she turned her attention back to the stove, and rubbed her cheek in a huff.
Anthony couldn’t think of anything to say, and Kate didn’t seem to need him to say anything anyway, so he just leaned against the counter as she finished making breakfast, every offer to help being turned down. 
Her mood had lightened by the time they sat down to eat. While Anthony was doing the washing up, Kate went back into his bedroom. She came out shortly after, dressed and ready to go.
Anthony usurped her before she could put her shoes on and pulled her towards the couch.
“I can’t stay,” she whined, but she straddled his lap all the same.
“Why not?” Anthony rubbed her back as her arms went around his neck.
“Because if I don’t want my first year to be my only year, I need to study.”
“I’ll help you study,” he lied. Unsurprisingly, Kate wasn’t buying it.
“Conflict of interest. I think you're heavily invested in me not being productive.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he smirked as he kissed her.
Kate sighed, leaning into him. “Anthony.”
“Fine.” He leaned back against the cushions, but kept a grip on her hips. “At least let me drive you back to your house.”
Kate shook her head. “I looked it up. It’s a long walk, but it's a nice morning for it.”
Anthony arched an eyebrow at her. “You know you’re too sore for a long walk.”
“Arrogant twat.”
“Please, Kit.” He squeezed her waist.
She tried to glare at him before breaking into a grin.
“OK.”
This time, when Anthony watched from his car as she walked to her front door, Kate turned around. 
Damn. I'm in trouble. 
He could not wait. 
[NOTE: Please read Weary Memory if you’d like an actual story with this version of Kate and Anthony.]
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cadmusfly · 3 months
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Who Is A Dragon In Marshalate Dragons AU Because Making All The Infantry Marshals Dragons Is Too Much Scales
Post 1
Post 2
Marshals
Dragons: Berthier, Lannes, Soult, Masséna, Lefebvre, Mortier, Oudinot, St Cyr
Humans: Bernadotte, Augereau, Brune, Moncey, Perignon, Serurier, MacDonald, Poniatowski, Jourdan, Murat, Ney, Davout, Kellerman, Suchet, Victor, Marmont, Grouchy
Not A Secret Dragon Totally: Bessieres
Non marshals
Dragons: Junot, Desiree Clary, Bernadotte’s minister Magnus Brahe oh my god, either Trobriand or Morand, either Wellington or Picton, maybe Desaix
Sea Serpents: Villeneuve, Cochrane (and babby Marryat), maybe Dadmiral Pellew
Definitely Human: Napoleon, Joséphine, most noble/royalty, Talleyrand lol, most of the wives of people I turned into dragons
Contemplating having Ida St Elme be a dragon shapeshifter because of that historical fantasy series based on her having her be a Special Magic Person and I’m not sure her relationship with Ney works if she’s scaly all the time
This is partially informed by a desire to have interesting characters as dragons but also wanting to keep some interesting characters as still human, the underlying metaphor of monstrous draconic avarice as linked to greed and plundering but also some humans should also just be like that, and also vibes and who would be funnier as a dragon
Anyone can write fic or be inspired or steal my ideas or write stuff based on anyone being a dragon idk I’m just addicted to worldbuilding I need to finish a few other projects before thinking about if I want to write a proper fic or drawing for this, might post snippets if they emerge into my mind though
I am open to suggestions and arguments as well
Under the cut is some thoughts inspired by @impetuous-impulse about arranged dragon marriages and in universe cultural stuff
The legend of St Martha taming the tarasque
is slightly different in this world - after the tarasque is tamed, it is not killed by the people with spears. The same is with St George and the Dragon, where the dragon is tamed and not killed as a demonstration of Christianity's might.
I'm not going to go as far as to say Jesus was a dragon, but from chatting to Impulse and thinking about it, and also that I turned a bunch of military nobility into dragons
In this world there's a cultural Thing around the idea of an ingenue* woman - or man sometimes - being known as a "dragon-wife", a representative and rider, tamer of the monstrous beast, offered to sate the dragon's greed
This overlaps with the idea of a dragon's "favoured person", a person they grow so close to that the dragon-stupour that they fall into when exhausted is lessened and shortened by the presence of that person, and also there might be something about a dragon being able to telepathically talk to them over larger distances, being able to share emotions and senses
People know that the dragon-wife/dragon-rider is not necessarily a dragon's bonded/favored person, but it's better if they are. It's a very political thing for dragons with high titles and high ranks, to be accompanied by a charming maiden.
But of course, these maidens often aren't allowed to have any power or prowess! Though some do carve it out, and some by virtue of having a giant reptilian beast on their side do end up in interesting and exciting places.
Think of it like a beauty and a beast thing.
*ingenue was attested in 1848, too late for the time period damn
also i would like to have more dragons who identify as ladies, dragons do not have physical sex in this setting but they do identify as gender - i doubt explicitly nonbinary dragons will be popping up for a while though and the focus of this is the land with the very gendered language so they just default to unfortunate il
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lavenoon · 2 years
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Proper pinned post time, let's go!
First things first: Y'all still need sleep, even though I changed my pin. Your schedule's still messed up. Go rest <3
I'm Luce (he/she*)!
*I am not a girl. Please do not call me one (unless we're pals and I know you don't mean it in a cis way). The same goes for using she/her to address me
I go where the hyperfixation goes, and make that my followers' problem. In between you can always expect memes, informational posts, and some feel good things.
I make art sometimes, which you can find under #my art
Any original post is tagged #post let luce, if you want some ramblings in between the art
And if you're here because of Cryptid Sightings, here's a masterlist for my art specifically for the fic
My own AU "Accidentally Undercover" you'll find under the tag with the same name, but here's the Intro post and AO3 link, as well as the masterlist!
My mutuals tag is "#we're holding hands" because I like being extra and also we're holding hands, don't be confused! <3
This isn't a strictly sfw blog, in the sense that I will always reblog the dildo generator post for laughs when I see it (and similar funny stuff), but I try to be thorough with my tagging! I will also never interact with character specific nsfw content, suggestive is fine but please do not tag me in explicit stuff thank you!
Asks and DMs are open, though I'd prefer if we already talked before you hop into my DMs! Otherwise I might ignore you or take a long while to answer, because I'm awkward af and startle like a young deer at interaction.
I do have a ko-fi, if you ever want to leave a little tip! (But don't feel obligated)
Also, if you look like a bot (default header and icon, no bio, untitled, empty blog) I will block you. Just a "I'm not a bot!" in the bio or title is enough, but you gotta give me something.
I think that's it! Have fun and take care of yourself! <3
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librathefangirl · 6 months
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Only answer if you want of course, or pick and choose which ones to talk about, but! I'm very interested to hear about these fics 💜💜💜💜
A Clan of One
First Holy War Whumptober AU
Whumptober - Meliodas & The Boar Hat Regulars
King & Meliodas Whumptober 2022
The Past On My Skin
I usually don't need a lot of encouraging to talk about my fics and wips, so I will talk about these :D Except for the King & Meliodas one, I don't really think I've even mentioned these before. Fun!
First off, Meliodas & The Boar Hat Regulars I talked about in another ask. But as for the others...
A Clan of One
This is one of my remaining Febuwhump fics, but I haven't properly started on it yet (still got a few others to finish first). I do have an idea of what it'll be about though (it's even got a title!). It's for Day 27, and the prompt "Survivor's Guilt". Basically, it's gonna be exploring how Meliodas deals struggles with more or less being the only demon left. While he did choose to betray the demons, they are still his kin, his family even, and now they are gone and he's still here. They're not dead, of course, and one could argue if what he's doing is actually living (with the whole cursed and torment thing going on), but he's got to have a lot of guilt about what happened to the rest of the demons (and for leaving Zel behind to that fate).
Here's a little summary I wrote when I first decided on this idea:
One good thing about the years passing was that people forgot. Millennia later, no one cared to talk about the sealed Demon Clan. To them, they were a thing of the past. To Meliodas, they were an eternity of ghosts in his head.
First Holy War Whumptober AU
Now this is another one of the Whumptober fics I never got around to finishing in time. But I will finish it! I'm actually quite excited to share this one. It's gonna be a 3-chapter fic written for 3 separate Whumptober days/prompts, with the first prompt being "Reluctant Whumper". The other 2 are a secret for now (telling them would be too spoilery). Like my title suggest it's an AU taking place during the First Holy War, the story going off-canon right after Meliodas betrayal. It's focused on our beloved demon brothers, and also features our (here non-literal) queens Elizabeth and Gelda. Oh, and the Demon King, I guess (a proper whumper for this Whumptober fic). That said, since it's Whumptober (and me), there will be plenty of angst going around. Especially for those poor traumatized boys. There are a lot more I could say about this one, but I'm not going to. I feel like the less I say, the better this fic is going to be to read.
However! I will share a little sneak peek. I do have several snippets I wish I could share with you all, but most of them are in the second chapter and (again) that would be too spoilery, so let's go with a (redacted) sneak peek from chapter 1 instead:
Zeldris felt his blood turn to ice as the words repeated themselves in his head. Over and over again. Like an unwanted echo in an empty house. This... This was wrong! This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Meliodas wasn't supposed to [redacted]. He was supposed to [redacted], and Zeldris – Zeldris looked down at his hand; the same hand that had [redacted] just a few moments before – Zeldris didn't know what he was doing anymore. This was all wrong.
King & Meliodas
Ah, yes, the fic with two beginnings (lol). This was technically planned out for Whumptober 2022, but since I ended up not doing Whumptober that year, this fic was never fully written. The prompts I was going to use for this fic were "Protective" and "Stabbed". Since then, I've also written two separate beginning to (what I'm fairly certain is) the same fic. But that's fine, happens to the best of us (right?), and I do think I can combine the beginning without too much struggle (I love them both, plus they're kind of starting at different places).
So the story... This takes place in another undefined timeline; the Sins are all together, fighting side by side, and Meliodas' demon secret has already been revealed. King, like in canon, is struggling with the reveal and what it means in terms of him trusting Meliodas. (I do love making King confront his feelings about Mel being a demon). There is a big fight happening, during which King and Meliodas end up separated from the others. Though not before Meliodas gets badly injured saving King. So that's the plot, I guess, the two of them trying to find their way back to the others, trying not to die, all the while dealing with the elephant in the room (or maybe I should say demon in the room).
Here's two sneak peeks (one for each document lol). First off, Meliodas astounding lack of worry for his own health:
“Huh?” Meliodas almost sounded surprised, as if he hadn’t noticed the blood that was running down his leg. He glanced down at his shirt, pulling it up enough to reveal the angrily red wound, slowly oozing more and more blood. “Oh. Yeah, that’s not good.” “We should find shelter.” “I’m fine.” King didn’t even know how to act around Meliodas anymore. Let alone how he felt. This was not helping. “You almost fell on your face.” “I stumbled. It’s fine.” King felt his annoyance growing, “You’ve been stabbed!”
And then the heart of the issue:
“What the heck kind of question is that?!” Meliodas was sitting up fully now. The levity was completely gone. King had seen him like this before. This was the Meliodas that made no one question who the captain of the Seven Deadly Sins was; gaze sharp, posture serious, status undeniable. Now though, King couldn’t help but wonder where Meliodas had learned to channel that deadly focus so fast and unwavering in the first place. As a Holy Knight in Britannia, or as a trusted soldier in the Demon Real? “Come on,” King countered, the words harder to form than he wanted. There’s no going back now. “You can’t pretend like nothing’s changed.” “Yeah, you’re right,” Meliodas admitted. His brow furrowed as he studied the flames for a moment. Then he met King’s gaze again. The smile on his lips was an empty echo of its usual mirth. “I know you don’t trust me anymore, King.” King struggled to keep eye contact. This wasn’t a secret. They both knew it because King hadn’t tried to hide it. It wasn’t meant to be a secret. Yet hearing it out loud, it felt like a sucker punch.
The Past On My Skin
Ooh. This is a fic that was inspired by a post talking about what if Meliodas had the scars from his deaths, and also by the song "Would Anyone Care" by Citizen Soldier. (Come think of it, I probably started this wip around the time I made that video). Basically, while Meliodas body is healed each time he dies, he also gains a scar (from the "killing blow"). So, in other words, not a happy fic (but there will be comfort eventually, just a lot of hurt too), exploring the darker parts of Meliodas' mind and the mental impact of his curse.
I don't think I have much more to say about this one, so here's a sneak peek:
Maybe he wasn’t completely invincible after all? It had been a nice thought, as long as it had lasted. Though as years turned to centuries, Meliodas was forced to face reality. He was stuck. Frozen. In a way it was pretty fitting. After everything he’d done, he deserved to be stuck in a prison of his own. The scar wasn’t his first and it wouldn’t be his last. The death only one of many. It wasn’t really a conscious thing. Not at first anyway. More like an indifference; recklessness, getting a little too bold during a fight, a little too careless with how he protected the people around him. In the end, what did it matter? He couldn’t really die. And if he started welcoming death and the merciful void of emotions, well, everyone had their breaking point, right? Meliodas had crossed his several Elizabeths ago.
WIP Tag/Ask Game!
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foxcort · 10 months
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a lion does not concern itself with the opinion of sheep. tamlin-centric, tamlin/briar (if you squint) au, gen | ao3
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But the Lord of Casterly Rock said and did nothing beyond the steady glare he fixed upon his youngest son.
for @isterofimias & @praetorqueenreyna ❤️
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a/n: straying a little from my edit in that tamlin's family is still very much alive and his father is lord of casterly rock and *insert all titles here*! tamlin's family are based on the versions of them i imagine existed in acotar canon and less based on the lannisters/asoiaf (though it was difficult trying to separate tywin from tamlin's father, but can you blame me?). also this can be seen as a prelude to the brilin asoiaf au (oneshot for now?) i'm working on, though its more centered around tamlin and how i imagine he would translate into the asoiaf world. (ps. may i suggest listening to the rains of castamere or a lannister always pays his debts while reading this? or maybe even this casterly rock themed ambience/music?). i apologize in advance for my disgustingly excessive use of commas
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It was never a good omen when Emrys approached him with a smile on his face. Especially when that smile was too predatory to carry any good will, and the glint in his eyes too cruel to preface anything but torment. Tamlin sighed softly to himself, eyes tracking his brother's movements as he dropped into the seat beside him with all the comfort that didn’t, and should’ve, existed between kin.
"There'll be no need getting all pretty and proper for Lord Tyrell's daughters today." That smile widened. Sharpened. "Not for you, little brother."
Tamlin threw him a weary look from where he sat, haphazardly reclined on one of the finely carved rosewood chairs situated in his guest chambers. "If you have something to say, spit it out." His answer was irate and breathless, still labored from the sparring practice his mornings were oft scheduled with. Having a conversation with Emrys while he had the upper hand was never pleasant. Even less so when Tamlin's body was littered with bruises and soaked in sweat, the fabric of his crimson tunic clinging uncomfortably to his chest.
Emrys gave a mocking click of his tongue, as if chiding a child for impatience. "This came for you. Just before dawn."
A small scroll — loosely unrolled enough to indicate Emrys had taken the liberty of reading it first — sat in the middle of his brother's outstretched palm. Bait in a bear trap.
For a long moment, Tamlin stared, his stomach turning at the possibilities before he calmly collected the paper and unfurled it. Return to Casterly Rock at once. With a quiet groan set off by his sore limbs, he sat up and leaned forward, forearms stretched over his thighs as he turned the message over, searching for an explanation he knew he would not find. Just his name eloquently printed on one side and the six meager words on the other.
"Shame." Emrys laughed, low and taunting. "I could've sworn the youngest was smitten with you. Caught her painting a pair of green eyes too soft to be mine."
Tamlin's gaze snapped to his brother's, the mirror of them always unnerving. It was their mother's eyes. His eyes. Shared between them in a juxtaposition of cruelty and mercy. A curse from the Seven, surely, when those eyes — softened further by his mother's smile — were the only ones that had ever looked at him with love and kindness.
"Are you so lacking in charm, you had to arrange for me to be sent away in order to ensure favor from one of Tyrell’s daughters?”
He thought distantly of the three of them and how they seemed to skirt around Emrys, recognizing at the very least, an undercurrent of savagery that did not belong amongst the delicate roses and clear sunshine. Truly, he was a lion amongst lambs in their presence.
"Careful." A glimmer of rage flickered in the green of his gaze, reminding Tamlin that while they were gifted with their mother's eyes, everything else was a bane from their father. “Or you’ll be journeying to the Wall in place of Casterly Rock.”
And he did not doubt him.
Not when Emrys’ anger was an inferno compared to the ember that sat diligently in Tamlin’s chest.
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“You’re to marry the Stark girl.”
It was an effort to keep his mouth shut, though Tamlin's fingers curled into fists under the table, jaw tightening. Whatever he thought he would be facing upon his return to the Rock, it was leagues away from this. And perhaps even farther away from what Emrys could have influenced. No, this was a decision born entirely from his father's mind.
He supposed he should be glad. There were worse fates than marrying into a traitor house. And when he thought of his brief time in King's Landing and the too-watchful gaze of Hybern Greyjoy's red woman, it was almost enough to abate his anger. Almost.
“Do I have a say in this matter?” His voice was measured, surprising even himself.
Only the slight arch of his father’s brow gave Tamlin indication that he’d been heard at all. But the Lord of Casterly Rock said and did nothing beyond the steady glare he fixed upon his youngest son. As if the question was too dull to answer.
“You’ll be leaving in a week. With Lucien,” he paused to lean back in his chair, satisfied that the insolence of Tamlin's question did not tread further, “and a retinue of no more than ten men.”
Small, by Lannister standards, even for the least significant son. His father did not wish for them to be noticed, then. "What of the Tyrells? Will they not ask why I was pulled away in the middle of talks?"
"They will not." Irritation singed the end of his father's tone, his answer too quick. A glint of disdain sharpened the Lord's cold gaze, "Let me assure you, there was never any impression that you were an option for groom. Lord Tyrell's eldest will choose between your brothers, and you— you will go to Winterfell to marry the Stark." He paused, body rigid again. "Is that clear?"
Once more Tamlin held his mouth firm, afraid that if he opened it he would make the grave mistake of truly angering his father. Grey might've speckled the fine golden thread of his hair, but a man could count himself blessed by the Seven to survive a duel with Callen Lannister. He was as sharp and vicious with his sword as he was with his tongue. And Tamlin had been at the end of both enough times to know when a limit had been reached.
Callen rose from his seat — seemingly content with his son's silence — and Tamlin's gaze flickered to the courtyard beyond the room. Beams of sunlight filtered onto the lone tree planted there, snagging his bleating thoughts, a balm to his bruised heart. Years of being Callen's least favored did not lessen the blow his words often landed, and every new interaction reopened a wound he had thought long since healed.
"Your mother leaves to join your brothers in Highgarden tomorrow in hopes that her company will usher Tyrell's daughter into making a decision." His father's hand curled around the back of his now vacant seat and the sound of wood scraping on stone filled the room as he set it neatly in place. "Meet her before she departs.” Not a drop of warmth existed in that tone, though Tamlin knew some part of his father always considered his mother's heart above them all. “It would grieve her if you froze to death in the North without a proper farewell."
Tamlin had no chance, or will, to speak before his father turned on his heel and swiftly left the room.
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In contrast, his mother had a retinue of thirty.
Twenty-five men, gathered in an arrangement outside the castle, and five women — his mother's personal attendants — seated safely in the awaiting wheelhouse. All the gold buried deep in the Rock, and it was Tamlin's mother his father treasured most. The one and only ideal he respected him for.
He squeezed her hands and cherished the warmth they offered, knowing soon he would feel nothing but the biting cold of the North. "My sweet boy." Her voice was smooth and pleasant as she slipped a hand from his to cradled the side of his face, a comforting gesture familiar to him since childhood. "Promise me you'll send a raven once you've reached Winterfell. It would settle my nerves."
He leaned into her touch, forcing a smile over his mouth for her sake. "I promise."
Gentle sea winds stirred the unblemished, golden curtain of her hair, a knowing look shadowing her features. "Trust in your father's intentions. They have always been for the good of his sons. Even if it may not seem so in the beginning."
"It's not always . . . easy to see what he sees." Pain colored his gruff voice, escaped from the confines of his well guarded heart. He paused in an attempt to swallow that hurt and failed miserably. "I'm being sent as shackles for the Starks, aren't I?" Only his mother's presence could draw such emotion from him and he hated it. Hated succumbing to that ugly feeling, hated letting it expose his weaker points. "He means to use me to keep them in line."
A soft sigh from her. She knew how he felt. Had tried to protect him from it for as long as he could remember. "He means to ensure all of his sons have grand standing in this world. The North is a stronghold with a precarious relationship to the crown and all of its vassals. Choosing which one of you to tie to the Starks was not done carelessly." Her lips tilted upward and her eyes shone with quiet pride. "Your brothers have little tact where delicate matters are concerned. You, however, are mine. And you always will be." She returned her hand to his and squeezed, coaxing a lightness back into his chest. Knowing she had a part in sending him to the North was both a solace and an ache, but where he found it difficult to trust his father, it was as easy as breathing with her. "Promise me again, you'll send a raven?"
He laughed under his breath, the sound of approaching footsteps stilling behind him. "When have I ever broken a promise to you?" Water glimmered in his mother's eyes and Tamlin quieted whatever thoughts stormed in his mind, to wrap her in his arms. "I'll send as many ravens as you'd like." She shivered, likely an attempt to hold off real tears, and he squeezed her harder. "So many, you'll grow sick of me."
"And stay warm," she murmured into his shoulder, before her chin tilted upward and her gaze settled on someone behind him. She said in a louder, more clear voice, "Lucien, see to it that he stays warm."
"I will, my lady." Tamlin didn't have to turn around to see the grin on the emissary's face, or the deep bow he offered. "Even if I must suffocate him with furs myself."
Finally, he pulled away from her, and she gripped his hand as he guided her into the wheelhouse, one last murmured goodbye passing between them, before an attendant shut the doors. A shouted command rang high above the sound of horses and armor clinking armor, and the procession to Highgarden began.
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a/n: i just wanted to add that because i've chosen houses based on what made sense to me, a lot of the asoiaf loyalties and histories will be different — (e.g. the greyjoys taking over the targaryens/iron throne instead of the baratheons/robert's rebellion). i hope you enjoy this one! i've been meaning to do a got rewatch at some point, so there might be future asoiaf au oneshots or shortfics with different characters, ships and timelines! / lannister divider by @dingusfreakhxrrington
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softly-potter · 2 years
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Master List
FINALLY created the master list! Transferring all my fics here because lets be honest, Tumblr is making a comeback. All of my fics are available on Ao3 @softlypotter_0 and Wattpad @softlypotter_ as well.
You’ll probably notice some empty titles and unclickable titles; I'm going to be working on transferring my stories here over the next few weeks so bare with me :)
💋=implied smut, 🔥 = includes smut, ♨️=purely smut, ☁️ = fluff,  💔= angst, 🎶= song/music inspired, 🔪= includes violence/gore
Bucky Barnes X OC/Reader 
Eradicate ☁️💔 - Bucky's always had a soft spot for the girl down the road. (2 Chapters) Chapter One | Chapter Two | Epilogue
Quickly Falling ☁️ - After interning in the body mechanics division of Stark Industries, Cassandra finds herself drawn to one of clients. (One-Shot)
WandaVision
Romantic Homicide🎶💔🔪- Bucky helps Wanda steal Visions body to give him a proper funeral, but her goodbye ends up differently than he imagined. (One-shot)
WinterWitch
Stay Forever💋☁️ - After settling into a friends-with-benefits routine, Wanda tries to break their cycle in the hopes of something more. (One-shot)
I Like You♨️☁️🎶 - Wanda & Bucky finally get the break they deserve. (One-shot)
Little Love🔥☁️💔 - When Wanda ends up pregnant a few weeks before their wedding, having an impending family shocks them both. (9 Chapters)
Still Friends ♨️💔🎶 - After a chance encounter at a party, Wanda and Bucky find they have more in common than they realized.This fic is heavily inspired by 'Friends' by my lovely friend Poppy. She is aware of this fic and I've been given permission for this marvel-version retelling! If you haven't read her dramione fic 'Friends', I HIGHLY suggest it. I fell in love with the story and couldn't help but wonder, what if it was Wanda and Bucky instead of Hermione and Draco? Thus "Still Friends" was born. Enjoy! (18 Chapters)
Turning Out🔥💔🎶 - With their marriage crumbling right before their five-year wedding anniversary, Wanda tries different ways to keep her husband. 
Bring Him Home☁️💔 - During a mission, Bucky goes back into Winter Solider mode, and Wanda helps him back. (2 Chapters)
Touch Tank ♨️🎶 - Struggling to sleep, Wanda asks for help from an unlikely pot-smoker. (8 Chapters)
Dance with Me🔥💔🔪 - All the times Bucky asked Wanda to dance, and the one time he didn’t. (2 Chapters)
Where do Babies Come From?🔥💔🎶 - Wanda & Bucky are more over their heads then they originally thought when finding out she’s pregnant. (2 chapters)
What We Know♨️💔 - The up’s and down’s of loving a super solider.
Am I Dreaming♨️💔🎶 - Realizing she needs more help than either of them can provide, Wanda breaks up with Bucky before she admits herself to a pysch ward. (One-shot)
The Lists☁️💔 - After losing her brother, Wanda keeps a list of everyone important to her, so that she can keep them at a safe distance, but Bucky has a list of his own. (One-shot)
Frank Castle X Karen Page/OC/Reader
Slowly♨️☁️ - Karen asks Frank if he can slow down; he’s more than happy to oblige. (Friends with benefits au!)
Returning the Favor♨️☁️ - After accidentally seeing a picture not meant for him, Frank realizes there may be more than professionalism between him and the newest hire of Nelson & Murdock.
Drastoria
Reckless 💔🎶 - Astorias always been faithful to her husband but she isn't sure he can say the same. (2 Chapters)
Family Line 💔🎶 - Draco & Astoria struggle dealing with her illness and all the repercussions that come with it. (3 Chapters)
Love💔🎶 - Newly engaged, Astoria tries vocalizing her feelings to Draco. (One-Shot)
Meeting in the Middle☁️💔 - After being released from Azkaban, Draco suffers from night terrors and Astoria is forced to play along until he wakes up. (One-shot)
If Anything Happens, I Love You☁️ - Grown and married, the Golden Trio and Slytherin Group prepare to send their children off to Hogwarts. Told by one chapter per couple, a sneak peak into their family lives. (5 Chapters)
Dramione
After Tonight 🔪🔥💔 - After the war and Voldemort wins, he dies from old age; but not before attempting to create a potion to keep him alive. His remaining Death eaters finish what he started, and soon a potion that staves off death is in the hand of every pure blood, Death eater and the wealthy. The key ingredient to the potion? Muggle-born blood. (ON HIATUS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE)
Iniquity ♨️💔 - Draco's having a hard time coping with the world post-war, and he uses sex and alcohol to get by. It never occurred to him that Hermione might be coping in a similar fashion. (14 Chapters)
You Get Me So High 💔🎶 - Draco and Hermione meet for one final time before their separation is official. (One-shot)
Grounding 🔥☁️ - A few years after the war, Draco is working as an Auror. Constantly in dangerous and life-threatening scenarios, he aches to give his fiancé a normal life but isn't sure he deserves it. (2 Chapters)
Milk & Honey 🔥☁️ - Inspired by the quote “I’ve had sex, she said. But I don’t know, What making love, Feels like” by Rupi Kaur, Hermione and Draco have sex for the first time since they started dating. (2 Chapters)
Happier Than Ever💔🎶 - Hermione finds an unlikely place to turn to when she begins having panic attacks. (One-Shot)
A Pathological People Pleaser💔🎶 - After 5 years of dating, Hermione is fed up with waiting for Draco to take the next step. (One-shot)
we can’t be friends💔🎶 - After a tumultuous breakup, Pansy informs her friends Ginny and Hermione of a facility, Brighter Days, that uses a new obliviation technique to remove a selected individual from their memory. Hermione thinks it’s an unorthodox method…until she goes through a breakup of her own. (3 chapters)
Thansy
A Consumption of Grief 💔🔥☁️ - Pansy's estranged mother has died, and after an unfortunate event at the funeral, Theo shows her who her real family is. (One-shot)
Hansy
Care Less More💋💔🎶 - Pansy keeps Draco’s bed warm when he has no one else around. She goes to great length to prove she could care less; but a certain Gryfindor hopes she can see her value. (One-shot)
Regulus Black x OC/Reader
Hiraeth 💋💔 - Adelyn has been promised to Regulus since childhood, and wants nothing more than to be his wife. She knows she makes him happy, that they can flourish together. But we all know how Regulus' story ends. (4 Chapters)
RWBY
Cancer🔥💔🎶 -Waking up in what he knows is a dream, Jaune spends the day with a family that could've been his had Beacon never fallen. (One-shot)
All Roads Lead to Home♨️☁️ - Emerald is greeted by an unexpected (and drunk) visitor in her home. (One-shot)
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greypetrel · 1 year
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@shivunin 's asked prompt n°22 for "Whomever I wished".
I have nothing else to say except: I'm sorry.
A character ship game had @n7viper suggest a Aisling and Fenris ship and my brain caught fire with a AU. Follow the link to read me rambling with more explanations.
Also this is one of my favourite tropes, there’s one scene in the Two Towers (book) that imprinted in my child brain and never left SO you see, my brain went on fire and I also gave this a proper title. And set the poor blorbos on fire as well. Enjoy.
CW: Mentions of abuse, trauma, difficult pregnancies and abortifacent herbs treated as next-day pill.
(did I mention it would have been very angsty?)
Part 2 here, you're welcome.
Some soundtrack if you need some more suffering.
Tis the prompt list if you want me to elaborate further on these two or have me writing some fluff, my brain is on fire
One for the Road
(Intentionally brushing against the other’s fingers when handing them something)
*Somewhere near the Tirashan forest, 9:34 Dragon*
The Arlathven wasn’t busy, this year. The absence of clan Sabrae was noticeable, and voices were running that Kirkwall wasn’t safe, that a storm was coming, that the Asha Bellanaris had been spotted there. But, after the first two day of reunions and ceremonies, the grand celebration for Mythal at the first moonrise of the first day, and the one for Elgar’nan at sunrise, the second evening was more relaxed, and free for everyone to entertain themselves. Usually, Keepers, First and Seconds were to rest and sleep after the first sleepless night of prayers and offerings to the Mother and the Father. But as it often goes, the younger ones would not oblige, and could be found around the camp village, entertaining and partying.
Pavyn was, as per usual, long gone who knows where, and Aisling and Radha were left on their own to find their fun, holding hands and chatting between themselves as they made their way around the aravels and clearings left for fires, tables, benches. People laughed, people played music and sang, hahrens told stories to fascinated groups of children, one big area left bare had some dancing, and they had been stopped twice already by hahrens asking young adults to taste their latest brews and give their opinion.
Getting drunk at the Arlathven was, after all, a rite of passage per se, as well as getting your Vallaslin. If you managed not to puke during the morning ceremonies of the third day, you could consider yourself officially a grown-up person. And the older elves thrived in the unspoken tradition, trying to lure the younger ones into drinking. Laughters all around, there were at least three different songs being sung at the same time, as the two sisters made their way back to their Clan.
“Do you think we lost her?”
“Keep on walking, now turn left-”
They did, briskly changing their course after an aravel, snaking in the narrow passage between that and the next, walking sideways but still refusing to leave their hands.
“And right!”
“Run!”
They made her way in a larger alley, laughing between themselves and slaloming through people, Radha leading her way and Aisling trodding right behind, smaller but swift on her feet. Another turn, another run, and they stopped in the clearing where the clan’s aravels were, catching their breath and laughing. Old Isene scolded her and reminded that they both were adults, technically, they needed to behave as such. But, they didn’t took notice, dismissing her and coming to sit by the fireplace.
“What happened?” Vyrina asked from their side, grumpy because her big belly prevented her from participating in much of the booze. The Keeper herself told her to stay absolutely put and rest plenty. TAnd after three miscarriages in two years, Vyrina wasn't prone to risk it.
“You remember that old lady from Clan Virnehn?”
“The one that brews that horrible thing with absinthe?”
“Her! She found us and wanted us to drink. We ran back here, she was following us with a flask.”
“Actually, she wanted Aisling to drink. As a celebration for her being First and doing so well yesterday.” Radha pointed out, ruffling her sister’s hair.
Vyrina laughed, bumping the blonde’s shoulders.
“Look at you, making a name for yourself!”
“Yeah, I won’t make a name for myself for the worst hangover ever, tho. I need to be up tomorrow, or Pavyn will eat me alive.”
“Do you remember the last time? I still remember the headache!” Vyrina chirped, giggling as she caressed her belly.
“Does he kick yet?” Aisling asked, changing the topic and lighting up.
“Oh yes, here!”
The mom-to-be snatched her friend’s hand, placing it over her belly and moving it around, a little, until-
“Oh!”
“There! Meet your aunt, da’len, she’s the weird one!”
“I’m not weird.”
“You are.” Both told her in chorus, affectionately. As affectionate was the pout that followed.
“Don’t listen to them, little one, I’m the cool aunt that can make sparkles.” Aisling whispered, bending closer to the belly as the baby inside give her another kick, with decision, and made her giggle. “He’s so tiny and cute! Can’t wait to kiss this tiny footsies!” She cooed.
“Don’t tell me. Honestly, wouldn’t recommend having a little gremlin kicking your kidney from inside.”
“Oh, come on, Vee!”
“If you’re so eager, get one for yourself and you’ll tell me how it is.”
“Fat chance.”
“Come on, as if it was a secret whom you dumped Ydun for!”
“I dumped her because she was bossying me around and never let me speak or decide anything! Also, she didn’t want me to study Tevene.” Aisling rebuked, crossing her arms on her chest and staring intently in the fire.
“So you did dump her to study that particular Tevene!”
Vyrina laughed, as Aisling turned ten shades of red one after the other. It wasn’t a mystery that she had a soft spot for Fenris, and that she did all she could to slowly, oh so slowly, creep behind wall after wall of what became quickly something more than a guest of the clan, ever since they found him on the run out of Hasmal and decided to hide him. He stuck around, weeks became months and months became three years now, the Lavellan moving around enough to make his tracks difficult to follow for whomever came searching, and small enough to slip under the radars. Or well, at least until three weeks ago.
Aisling had put her best efforts in making him feel welcomed and, in time, the two became friends. Good friends, and it was clear to the whole clan that the young First had a soft spot for the grumpy, broody fugitive that somehow tolerated her enough even she was a mage and he certainly made no mystery that he trust not mages, his reasons more than comprehensible. They were, honestly, as unlikely to be friends as cute, complimenting each other and finding common ground instead of each other’s differences, pushing the other in directions that they probably wouldn’t have gone on their own. What Aisling would have wanted, for once in her life, was being able to have a crush and pine over someone with none other the wiser. Without the whole clan looking at her and giggling knowingly, embarrassing her. And, right now, without her best friend bored to death because her hard-earned pregnancy kept her on a low level of activity and adoptive older sister both teasing her.
The point was that, all in all, she knew it was unrequited, and something that wasn’t meant to be. No matter how much she tried to appear reliable and controlled and stable, and help him know that not all mages were evil Magisters: the ambush three weeks ago and the meeting with that horrible woman -Hadriana- had very comprehensibly upset him, and remembered her that no matter how hard she tried… She still was a mage, she couldn’t (and frankly wouldn’t) help it, and he had walls that she couldn’t break, no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t undo the past and what has been done to him. And he had no reasons to more than tolerate her around him. She frankly didn’t know how much patience it took him to just… Deal with her sticking around him.
So no, she didn’t want to joke and speak about Fenris and indulge in daydreams that were just that. He helped her realise her first -and only- girlfriend wasn’t really good for her and she was thankful… But that was it. She wouldn’t have acted on it, no matter how much Vyrina was trying to tease her into it and trying to make her say she would have confessed and they would have been happy and have at least ten children with the greenest eyes ever. She didn’t budge, pointedly ignored Radha’s attempt to stop them from that speech. It wouldn’t do: Vyrina had started daydreaming about huge families with ten babies since Aisling was transferred in the clan and they became friends, and when Fionn asked her to bond with him she already had very detailed plans about everything, from her dress to activities and food and how to decorate the aravels for the party. Vyrina jumped at romances like Aisling jumped at sweets. And both were unstoppable.
In the end, the First was saved by her “fated beau”, as Vyrina kept on calling him, by said elf abruptly exiting from the Keeper’s aravel, not caring if the door slammed behind him and all but marching to sit on a loose stool in the corner, away from everyone as he could be without running off from the camp. It wasn’t the first time he brooded, and everyone by now knew to leave him be when he had that face. The girls stopped jesting, each turning to observe the scene, and Deshanna going out of the cart, as poised and calm as ever, looking at Fenris and shaking her head, clearly wanting to say something but instead turning the other way to speak to the hahrens nestled around the firepit and the dinner.
Vyrina and Radha instantly turned to her.
“What’s going on?”
“Radha’s her daughter, properly, why do you both ask me?”
“You’re her daughter too, and her First. And the one in the clan Fenris actually speaks to. They must have told you something!”
“Not a word… Not after… Well.”
She didn’t need to specify after what. Pros and cons of living in a small clan: everyone knew everything of everyone -save Isene who still ignored how Pavyn was having a tryst with her son, her precious son who had to be bonded to the First of Clan Ghilain in two days. So, everyone knew that a group of mercenaries had finally found Fenris and ambushed him, involving Aisling and Pavyn as well as three other hunters. And that Fenris had travelled with their First and Oshyn, the hunter master, to the hiding place of Fenris’ former master’s apprentice… That was no more. Nobody had really spoken about it as it became clear he didn’t want to, and that Aisling wasn’t really ok either.
It was clear that something happened, but they all got called for dinner, distracted from any other thought. The conversation shifted again, as Aisling and Radha rose to help with the meal, distributing bowls and laughing with the ones that didn’t roam around, and elves from other clans who decided to stay there for the dinner, visiting old friends. Arlathvens were like this: everyone was welcomed everywhere, food and shelter was granted to anyone who asked, no matter the Clan, it was a big party when rituals and meetings weren’t held, the atmosphere chilled and relaxed as they were all protected by numbers by any external threat. It was beautiful and warm. Except…
… Except Aisling had told herself a thousand times that she should really stop gravitating around Fenris and pestering him as she had done from the moment he arrived, relating to his being the new one in the clan. She taught him to read, he taught her Tevene. They were friends. And it was three weeks since they really talked for the last time. She may have feelings for him she shouldn’t be having, that would have been a nuisance for him, she knew well after what he told her. But, she hoped she still was his friend, and friends… Well.
Work done, she took the bowl to the Keeper and kissed her on the cheek just because, thanking her but saying she wouldn’t have sat with her this evening and excusing herself. She waved at Vyrina and Radha, still on their spot around the fire, and at Fionn who reached his wife and soon-to-be child, slung the handle of a goatskin over her shoulder, and grabbing the last two bowls of stew made her way to the most private, faraway corner in the clearing, close to the aravels, schooling herself and putting up a smile as she swallowed her nerves.
“Hello. Hungry?”
“Thank you.”
She handled him one of the bowls, which he took, careful to keep it stable and not to look at her in the eyes. He didn’t invite her to sit with him, didn’t say anything at all. But, she was used by now to his being silent, and it didn’t intimidate her one bit.
“Do you mind if I sit here?”
She asked, but she was already sitting down, dragging a second stool closer to his -not enough to invade his space, she knew he cared for distances more than anyone in the clan and had learnt to respect it. It wasn’t a bother. So, she just sat, crossing one leg under her, sitting on her foot and slipping the goatskin down to the ground, with a soft thud, before starting to eat.
“Why did you ask if you just… Sat?” He asked, with that pitch in his low voice that was never clear if it was joking or angry. She didn’t mind and just shrugged.
“Politeness.”
“Weirdo.”
“Broody.”
It at least brought a smile on her face. He never called her weirdo when he was angry or irritated at her. Not with that tone. They kept on eating, none really saying anything or paying attention to the conversation and laughter and merriment around the campfire. Not much light reached them in that corner, casting them in a soft orange glow that really didn’t allow to distinguish colours or fine details. It was cosy, and private as an Arlathven could be. Which was not much, but it was something.
“Is everything all right?” She probed, not looking at him and trying to keep her voice neutral.
“Yes.”
Ok, so yes or no questions. He wasn’t in an elaborating mood. She could manage.
“Arlathvens are a lot, I know. Nobody would notice if you just shut yourself in your aravel for a day or two, really.”
“Mh.”
“But if you decide to stroll around, ignore the old woman with parrot feathers in her braids offering you absinthe liquor. That thing is despicable and is only good to help wood catch fire faster.”
“I don’t think I’ll meet her.”
He said, scraping the last morsels of meat from his bowl, before depositing the cutleries on the ground, beside the leg of her stool. So it would have been easier for her to take it back. A nice gesture, one of the many he had, under the grumpy, rough and unfriendly exterior he was always on the ready to help, and fit in the clan pretty well. At the same time, it was an invitation to go. But, the last sentence left Aisling with a bad feeling in her guts, and she needed to know more. She lowered her bowl on the crossing of her thigh, turning towards him.
“You’re planning on staying here all the time? Or in the aravel?”
He moved his head minutely, enough for silvery white locks to move and let him cast her a sideway glance.
“No, I’m not.”
“Here or the aravel?”
He didn’t reply, turning to look before him and slouching forward, elbows propped on his thighs. Sitting as if he was ready to jump right up. He never was fully relaxed, after all, Aisling didn’t blame him. Least of all after Hadriana. But… But, she knew him a little, and understood what he meant without him elaborating further. She wished she hadn’t eaten, her stomach tying in a knot. Except, she hated wasting food, she knew how hard it was to hunt, and… And so, she finished her meal in silence, turning his words and body language over and over in her head, extrapolating every tiny bit of information she could in search for a counter-theory that she really didn’t find.
“You know nobody in the clan would mind if you stayed, right?”
No answer, he just contracted his hands more.
“You’re… You’re family. You’d have more chances with us.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He snapped, harshly. The same tone of voice he had that day.
She lowered her gaze, not able to reply. He knew he was right, she did too. They both knew. So, she just raised his spoon and piled her bowl on top of his, carefully to place both spoons inside without makin any noise, slowly and carefully. And returning to look in front of her, crossing her arms on her chest. Tight. She would not cry now because he was leaving. She wouldn’t. She would have been an adult, waited for a good moment to rise up that didn’t feel like she was running away, and either jump right in the camp town and get horribly drunk, or close in the Keeper’s aravel and cry until sleep caught her. She was an adult, she helped performed the rites as her Keeper’s First. She could do it, as hard as she found it to be.
But, he must have sensed something, and she heard him sigh, loudly.
“I am sorry. About what happened with Hadriana. I took out my anger on you, undeservedly so. I was… Not myself.” Every word came out slowly and clear, he made sure she heard.
“You disappeared for a day. We had no idea of where you went, we… I was worried.” She admitted. He found them back after a day, as if nothing happened. Except, he didn’t speak to her and avoided her.
“I needed to be alone.”
“I understand.”
He sighed, starting to explain to her who exactly Hadriana was, what she did to him. The abuse, the cruelty, everything. Her heart clenched more, as every time he let on some details about his past before they crossed paths. It pained him to remember, but he kept on talking without stopping or stalling. She listened to him, not replying, not making comments. Just… Accepting what he had to give. Saying she was sorry wouldn’t have helped.
“This hate… I thought I’d gotten away from it. I thought… The clan gave me some respite. But it dogs me no matter where I go and…” He paused, huffing breath through his nose. “To feel it again, to know who planted it inside me… It’s too much to bear.”
Oh, she would have died to touch him, to reassure him somehow as she knew how. Except, she knew he didn’t really like being touched. As much as it was difficult, she closed her hands on her arms, and just… dragged the stool a little closer to his, minding not to tumble the bowls. Not enough for their shoulders to brush, not enough to touch. But enough to communicate she was there, if he wanted.
A minute passed, before he deflated, back slouching a little further and a long sigh leaving his lips.
“Bah. I don’t want to bother you further.”
“… You still don’t need to leave, Fenris.”
She just said, convinced of what she was saying. It came out as more of a beg than anything else, and she quickly averted her eyes as he turned to look at her. Aisling didn’t want to look at him in the eyes and find… anything, really. Anything would have made her crumble and start crying, and he would have asked her why she was crying because he always did, and she would have had to… Explain things. Hurt him more if he wanted to leave for real. So, instead of slipping down that hill, she cleared her throat and bent to take the goatskin from the floor, deftly taking the cork away.
“So. Well. Thank you for apologising. One for the road? You really can’t participate to an Arlathven and not drink, it’s part of the experience. It would put all of us to shame if we let you go without even a drink.”
She started, talking fastly and quick, running to the edge of a knife and, to maybe make that edge a tiny bit bigger, rose the goatskin up.
“Prosit!” She toasted, in Tevene, before taking a gulp. She hadn’t asked which liquor it was, just… Took it out. Turned out it was something made out of sloes, sweet and tangy and with definitely too much alcohol inside.
She huffed, shaking her head as her throat finished burning up, as the elf beside her quietly chuckled. If he chuckled it meant that things were fine, at least, which was good. She didn’t want him to leave in sadness, and if all that she could do was this, she wanted to give him some nice memories and a last… Evening, or day, to remember fondly. That, she could do.
He prodded her, waiting for her to pass the goatskin on, but she stalled. Something nice to remember. Maybe… Maybe it was the alcohol. Or the butterflies in her stomach having nasty ideas of their own to whisper in her ears.
Maybe, just hypothetically… If he was leaving… Maybe she could… And then maybe -just maybe!-, he wouldn’t…
But, she was a mage. And he believed that magic ruined things.
But, he was there with her, didn’t move away when she got closer. He stayed when she sat with him, in a moment when it was clear he wanted to be left on his own. He called her weirdo with that tone of voice that held affection. He apologised and opened up, which was something he never did. Not in so many details and certainly not with everyone. There were things about his past that she was the only one he let on. So… Maybe…
“Are you gonna pass it on, or was it so strong that it struck dumb even you?”
“Maybe it was… Wouldn’t take a lot to strike me dumb, after all.”
He rose an eyebrow, not convinced. “I disagree. You’re very intelligent.”
She smiled, a little bolder from the compliment. She didn’t elaborate further, even if she didn’t agree fully with him. Because she was about to do something potentially very, very stupid. But, it was now or never, she guessed, so… She took another sip of liquor, praying silently Mythal to give her braveness, as he chuckled again at her.
And then, she turned to him, finally -finally­- looking at him straight in the eyes, intently. He didn’t lower his gaze, a small smile softening his face. She handled him the goatskin.
“One for the road, then?”
“One for the road.” He nodded, placing his hand on the container.
She didn’t let go right away, tho. Swallowing, her heart beating loud and fast in her ears, fluttering in her throat so hard that for one minute all that existed in the world was her and Fenris, she moved her fingers to brush against his, feather-light and ready to get away, still looking at him in the eyes. As soon as she realised, as her fingerpads found the back of his hand and brushed against his tattoos, she felt him contract and move, the softness in his eyes disappearing at once.
Something shone blue, she gasped and felt his hands clutching on both her wrists, goatskin falling down on the grass, her arms being dragged at the side of her bust.
It was a moment, nobody saw them as the party was keeping up and nobody paid attention to them half hidden in a dark corner in that one, decisive moment. Aisling instinctively called on mana, but… Stopped. Let go. It was Fenris, and she trusted him. She did, even glaring and towering over her.
And indeed, he folded on himself, harsh expression melting into one of regret and pain. Again, and she hated the comparison, as right after he told her that magic ruins everything it touches. Except, they were far, far closer now than they have ever been, balancing on stools too close together.
He lowered his gaze and let go of her, suddenly, moving back. But, she wouldn’t have it. He regretted it, she saw. She saw him, for a moment, looking down at her lips. She wouldn’t let go without a fight.
Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was Mythal hearing her prayer and suddenly descending over her in some sort of divine inspiration that took all rational thoughts away, she called his name as assertively as she could be -a tone fit for a Keeper-, and when he turned again to her, she bent forward and kissed him.
It wasn’t a good kiss. It was sudden and unplanned and it had too many teeth clanking together, and she tasted blood on her lips, when she pursed them together to make it at least a little softer.
She turned back after a while, all sounds muffled and feeling like her face was burning in embarrassment, as Fenris looked at her dumbstruck, mouth still open.
“I-” She started, fumbling, desperately tucking a lock of hair behind her ear as the weight of what she did hit her. “I-I’m so, so sorry, I shouldn’t-”
He didn’t let her finish, and this time it was him kissing her. With less teeth, and better. Aisling soared, answering to him after a moment of pure surprise. Another break, they looked at each other in the eyes, finding the same dumbstruck expression reflecting in the other’s. Aisling giggled, still embarrassed, and he chuckled, smiling. Smiling for real. She tentatively rose her hands towards his face, he nodded without saying anything. She cupped his face, he tentatively splayed his hands on the small of her back. They kissed again. And again. And then some more.
And then they remembered what she suggested, not too long ago and yet a lifetime before, that if someone would close themselves in an aravel, none would be the wiser or really come looking. It seemed like a good idea to both of them, communicating just by looks and half smiles. He nodded, she took his hand, he took the goatskin – “It tastes good on your lips”- and dragged him inside. He let her drag him, let her undo his belt and straddle his lap.
The gin tasted good on his lips as well, and his skin felt even better against hers, warm and smooth. She let herself believe, and for a moment she was very, very sure of it as he nibbled her collarbone just so that her toes curled and traced her whole spine with rough, calloused fingers so delicately, that it wasn’t one for the road.
---
The next morning, Keeper Deshanna’s First came to the ritual for Sylaise with a lackluster expression, not looking at anyone in the eyes and not at all the cheerful, brilliant mage she has been but 36 hours prior when they celebrated Mythal.
She was dressed as her status required, in her best halla leather embroidered in gold trim, golden hair neatly braided against her head in an austere way. And yet, her eyes felt void, her smile didn’t reach them. She practiced all the rituals alongside her Keeper, didn’t miss a word. Didn’t say a word outside prayers, when it was done.
When the Keeper got back to the Lavellan area, her youngest strongly deflecting and refusing to say what was wrong, and saying it was all right, she was fine… She didn’t find Fenris anywhere. No one, when she asked, had seen him since yesterday evening, but one of the sentinels, who saw an elf with white hair and a “stupidly big sword” leaving quickly at dawn.
His aravel was empty. Aisling was to the working table, pestling flowers and herbs together in a frenzy. She didn’t say a word when Deshanna asked her what she was doing, to stop, at least change your clothes, da’len, it’s gonna stain. She didn’t speak. Didn’t speak at lunch, didn’t say a word to anyone, no matter how much Vyrina tried, caressing her hair and washing her green-stained hands. She, simply, wasn’t there, and Deshanna’s heart clenched, putting two and two together and remembering those first days, after another Arlathven many years ago, when she was six and finally understood that her mamae wouldn’t have come with her.
Deshanna stopped Radha, as perceptive as her, and even more sometimes, to track Fenris down and beat the hell out of him, saying it was no use. She consoled her middle daughter, caressing her high cheekbones and placating her rage. And sent her after Aisling instead, instructing her to take care of her sister. She would have started bleeding soon, if what she did that morning was what Deshanna thought. And Deshanna, as unassuming and humble as she behaved, as much as she didn’t care to have a bigger clan as long as they were united as they were, was renowned to be extremely talented with herbs and healing. And, she saw how the bottle of rue wasn’t as full as it was yesterday, and how the pennyroyal jar was stained green.
She sighed, kissing her daughter on the forehead before she went and sit close to Aisling, hugging her tight in the way they had of just… Avoid words and saying everything without them.
She needed to take care of things. Find Pavyn and tell him to both substitute her for the next day or two, and go easy on her, even if he was still angry.
It would have been a harsh winter.
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mcchicken-scratches · 2 years
Text
It's been awhile since I've done a proper update, so I thought I might as well try to cobble up a rough estimate of my current projects I'm juggling to give you all an update.
~~~
Come here, it's comfortable inside. (FN/AF)
Pred: Moon
Prey: Reader
30-70% done (depending on how much I need to rewrite)
This was the fic I teased awhile ago, with that little snippet. Wrote a huge amount of it, but had to rewrite a bunch because I realized half way thru that I switched tenses. Had alot of issues with trying to decide on what the beginning of the fic should be, as well as stitching the scenes together in a way that both flowed and kept the tension. Decided to put it down for awhile and try to work on something that wasn't as hard (like some other ideas fear. Moon), and have yet to make much progress since.
One step forward, one step back, one step forward, falling in (FN/AF)
Pred: Moon
Prey: Reader
At least 50% done
This one was inspired by a suggestion I received. Similar to the fic above, but goes for a more hurt/comfort tone, Moon being more gentle. Got stuck on a key emotional moment, then a month or so later got unstuck and then stuck again on something else. The most finished out of all the fics listed here, so it might be the first I post.
I'll hide you away (whether you want to or not) [title not final] (FN/AF)
Pred: Moon (and briefly Sun)
Prey: Reader
Started
Very different tone from the one above, this one focused on Moon's perspective. Was conceived around the same time as the other two Moon focused fics, but ended up putting more focus into those (especially since I got stuck on it pretty quickly).
Taste of a poison paradise (FN/AF)
Pred: DJMM
Prey: Reader
Started
This was supposed to be my vore day 2022 fic, but sadly I didn't realize the date until it wa nearly too late, and ended up not being able to finish it in time. (Also the day after I wrote a nice chunk of it, I realized alot of it was half awake nonsense writing, whoops!)
Stuck between a hoard and a monster [title not final] (Resi/dent Ev/il 2)
Pred: Mr X
Prey: Leon
Started
A fic idea suggested to me in my inbox. Was gonna be after "Safe Inside" but before the two epilogue scenes. Got stuck on it.
Putrid Oxygen (Subna/utica)
Pred: Sea Dragon
Prey: Ryley
20-40% done
A scene idea for my Anthro Subnautica au (which I still have yet to finish any fics about) set in the latter half of the storyline. Not sure if I'll finish it, but the start of it came of quite nicely so far.
Rather it be you [title not final] (D/BD)
Pred: Trapper
Prey: Dwight
Planning
Dwight ends up on the killer's side of the entity's realm, and decides he'd rather be at the mercy of his least favourite person than let any of the others have their way.
Let me shelter you (or let me hurt you) [title not final] (D/BD)
Pred: Trapper
Prey: Dwight
Planning
Felt bad about not using Dwight being in the cold concept as an opportunity to have him warmed up in his least favourite place. This an attempt to rectify that. Might end up reusing parts of the old "snow hell" draft, depends on how it goes.
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2n2n · 11 months
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Do you think his name is "Amane" or "Hanako" in Ryokan AU? Or is it both, like in canon?
Anon it keeps me up at night. He's just Hanako-tei and Hanako-kun in the media itself ....... I have no idea where 'Amane' would come from. Did TSUKASA name his cat 'Hanako' (effectively 'flower'.... this would be so moe I would die) .... would Tsukasa name his cat 'Amane' (???) .... or was he just like, 'blacky' or something ... 'kitty'... and he told Tsukasa his proper name later . Did he take on the name 'Hanako' only at the ryokan? Does he need a secret identity name situation at all????????????? It's so specific, why he is 'Hanako', a girly name, in canon ... but he has to be Hanako for events, its the title name , it makes the cafe recognizable ... I'm sure Iro-sensei has invented a rationale for why he is 'Hanako' even here ... but will we know it ... probably not ...
Our only thing to think about,
Nene does not go by Pretty-chan, the name her human owner gave her, which suggests Nekomata+Bakeneko name themselves, of their own accord, regardless of what humans call them. She's not truly Pretty-chan. She is Nene. She says so. (She doesn't appear to have a family name, either, which is more food for thought.)
... But Nene also probably didn't give a shit about her human owner, while Amane is very enamored with Tsukasa, so I could see him keeping/being sentimental over a name Tsukasa gave him.... whatever name that could be =.= hnnnghhh...I love both of Amane's pretty names, so it's hard for me to want to discard one. I would like to figure out a way to still enjoy both names discreetly....
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Ok 1 AAAHHH them talking about kids!! I had them in mind for that entire scene so thank you for sharing I love it so much. 2, while I'm already talking your ear off(and I'll still give you a proper review for the one shot)while I can't imagine Chrissy anywhere else what would she be like in teen wolf? I've been thinking about their next generation and for some reason I thought what would happen if they moved to BH & their kids had their own supernatural adventures?Would they know about them?1/2
also what do you imagine as Chrissy's future job? I could see her doing something really cool like working at nasa or something but I'm interested to know what you think. And I love the idea of a whole Harrington brood. Like I said, since he mentioned wanting like 6 kids I can't stop imagining his and Christine's kids (and Eddie's since they're all together obvi) I've made up so many scenarios, it's honestly embarrassing how hyperfixated I am on your story right now
OKAY so, I'm gonna have to draft a post for the Teen Wolf AU separately, because I started doing a bunch of math and got carried away, as per usual. But know that I am living for these thoughts and the concept of Steve and Chrissy (and Eddie) moving to Beacon Hills with their slew of kids is endlessly entertaining to me.
As for their future in-universe, I definitely want Christine to go into computer science. NASA would be her absolute dream, and Steve doesn't mind the idea of living in Florida. I like the idea of Chrissy having an office/computer job, Steve being a PTA dad, and Eddie cleaning up his act and working as a mechanic. (We know the boy knows his way around an engine.) Also not for nothing, but Steve could very well start a mechanic's shop in his name and then let Eddie run everything. Cause let's face it - with four to six kids, they need to be a two-income household.
I'm also open for what title Eddie gets as a parent. Currently leaning toward Mom, Dad, and Bubs, but I'm open to suggestion.
I HAVE NO EXCUSE FOR THIS I'M SORRY
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