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nopeferatu · 9 months

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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love❤

OOF...well, since most of my favorite pieces of writing are eternal wips, I guess I'll just post the snippets here, haha. Please bear in mind that nearly all of them are over a year old, and none of them are very good—I do draw more than I write, after all. But I do dabble here and there and so yeah! This is some of that!

5. Untitled WIP

This is suuuper old, one of the first things I wrote after watching the movie again in early 2022 and falling deep down the rabbit hole. It's actually not that great and is pretty sad in it's entirety, so I tried to grab the better chunk, haha. Try, if you can, to mind the first person pov—I know better now.

It's been years and I still really miss you, Jack. All I known in life is the feeling a missing you. You think I'd get used to the feeling, what with all them months and miles between us in the before times, but this missing you runs so much deeper than these tired bones have ever known before.

Yanno how you said your Mama believed in the Pentecost? She ever tell you 'bout that Bible story, how God made Adam and Eve? It goes like this—the Lord took a big pile a sand and breathed into it to make Adam, then he took Adam's rib and from it, went on to make Eve.

Was thinking on it the other day and figured, what if that's how God made the two a us? What if he breathed life into a pile a horse shit, then when I came up, took my rib, put it in a rodeo fuck up and sent the two a us out to the world, pair a deuces trying to fnd their way? I always thought maybe this hurt was emptiness, where my heart went missing after you were gone 'cause you'd taken it like you took my shirt. Now I'm thinking, what if the pain's from that ol' rib coming back after you died to settle in where it don't belong no more? Tryna rearrange all my insides that gone without for so long, and my body's rejecting it like a horse rejecting rider 'cause it knows it don't belong to me no more, never did, neither.

Then again, maybe it's just busted up in there. Maybe it has been since the summer a '63, and I just ain't taken notice 'til you went on and met your maker.

Maybe this ol' heart's just broken.

Know I shouldn't be asking shit from you considering all the ways I took and didn't give you nothing but hurts in return, but I’m asking as a man who never asked for nothing from you, neither—you wait for me, Jack Twist, just a little longer. Used to say that I couldn't wait to see you again, but you helped give me a second shot, try and fix up what I didn’t think I could hardly stand no more. Now I know I can bid my time here a while longer, being a daddy and granddaddy, living out some a the life that you didn't get to have.

So you wait for me… even if it's just so I can tell you how God damn sorry I am for it all.

I love ya, little darlin'. Reckon I always have, reckon I always will. You enjoy them whiskey rivers, but make sure to save the last round for me.

4. Want

This snippet is also super old, and once again, forgive me for the first person pov. Ik a lot of ppl don't typically like it in fiction and I've also kind of grown unfond of it. I was young! I was dumb! I've learned I've learned I've learned!!!

As I'm crying and coughing up the blood from my lungs into my mouth, the second thought comes to mind: just how bad I want for Ennis to come find me, come and save me from what I know's coming next. But he weren't there. Never was, never would be. The tears came down harder 'cause a that one.

The very last impossible thing I wanted was something I dreamed of for a long time. Even though most everything I craved was outta reach, I always thought I could get it, somehow, some way if I tried hard enough. But from the very start I'd known this want was impossible, and yet sometimes I wanted it more than I wanted life itself.

Dying alone on the side a that hot Texas highway, all I wanted was to be nineteen again, close enough to touch the Heavens on Brokeback Mountain.

I thought I could hear Ennis hollering for me back at camp, and I smiled. I'm comin', cowboy.

Then I closed my eyes, and would never want for nothing again.

3. Untitled WIP

I really hope to finish this one, someday. I really like playing around with the other potential bad end of BBM, where Jack ditches Ennis for Randall after May 1983 because his hope and patience has run dry.

"Name's Randall. Educated type of fella, went to college, got him a job as foreman of the ranch down a ways from my place." Jack takes a deep breath, sighs it out. "Tells me he loves me more times 'n even Lureen's said it," he stays quiet a moment, kicks at the loose pebbles on the ground. "Tell you what—feels good to hear it, too. Man's gotta know he's loved ever now 'n' again, Ennis."

Ennis thinks of cold mountain nights filled with the bleating of sheep and illegal elk, of dozens of jobs taken and abandoned, of divorce; thinks of four years of missing and bruising kisses, of sixteen years of hands worshiping at the temple of a bull rider's broken body, and of every cold night in between filled with dreams about bright blue eyes and the warmth of a perfect smile. He thinks of the last twenty years he spent dropping everything at the siren call of a postcard, and for the first time in his life Ennis thinks about love; wonders what it might be, if not that.

But Ennis doesn't say so, just clenches his trembling fist even tighter into itself.

2. Five Boys that Jack Twist Had Liked (and One More Whom He Had Loved)

This one is another old one that I reaally hope to finish one day. I have a about 3 1/2 of the 6 part written, I just...need to find the gumption to get through the rest.

4. Andrew Peterson

Andrew had been one of his daddy's ranch hands, a boy who would've been two grades above him if Jack hadn't dropped out of high school his sophomore year. He had just graduated, was one of the lucky few whose parents didn't value his contribution to the family finances over his education, and was hired on for the summer in the hopes of making a little cash before heading out of their dead-end town and into the real world. It was a plan that Jack, at sixteen, had already been well acquainted with.

It wasn't often that the Twist Ranch hired hands around his age to help out around the place, and Jack, always the friendly type and more than just a little lonely, had been eager to make a new acquaintance. Andrew hadn't seemed to mind when Jack started taking his chores alongside him, appearing glad for the company, himself. They shared easy smiles and private jokes, becoming such good friends in such a short time that his Mama would tease about one of them losing their very shadow if the other wasn't around.

Just like with Stephen before him, Jack had been drawn to Andrew like a moth to a flame. He never understood what there was in a boy that drew his eye to them in a way that none of the fillies who flirted around with him ever did, until Andrew, after a tiring day mending the old fence posts that corralled the bulls in and about two months worth of dropping frustrated gestures and signals, had said, "Fuck it," pulled Jack out to his Daddy's feed barn and into a scalding kiss that left Jack weak in the knees.

Andrew hadn't been his first kiss—that honor had gone to lil' Miss Sharon King back in the first grade. Seeing as how Jack was well regarded amongst the ladies as a 'pretty boy', there'd been plenty of kisses after that, too. Andrew had, however, been the first kiss that finally had him understanding what all the fuss was about.

As if to slide it on home, later that summer he even made sure to be Jack's first fuck, rounding out on all the bases that left Jack with a whirlwind of questions about himself and even more feelings bursting inside than his young heart ever thought it could handle.

"Been savin' to go to school in Denver," Andrew started, breaking the silence one night out in the feed barn. They sat passing a cigarette and some of his daddy's stolen whiskey between them, riding out the residual high of a midnight roll in the literal hay. It had been dark out, and with only the full moon and the hot red cherry at the end of the cigarette bathing them in their glow, the two were effectively shielded from the scathing eyes of the light. "'m leavin' in a few months, splittin' before fall comes." His gaze was fixed somewhere on the black horizon, watching something that went unseen to Jack.

Jack felt his stomach sink like the stones he used to skip in the creek way out past his house.

"Denver? Ain't that a might bit far for some schoolin'?" He tried to laugh, but it came out sounding choked and strange. Instead, he looked down into the whiskey bottle in his hand and took a swig from it, willing its sweet burn to help him maintain an air of indifference. "What they got down there, anyway?"

Truth be told he didn't blame Andrew for wanting to go—he had been itching to leave Lightning Flat in the rearview, himself. Still, he was unsure that he wanted the conversation to continue. He didn't want to think about his new companion leaving so soon after this something between them had begun. Nevertheless, curiosity—slightly embittered—took hold and ultimately won out.

Andrew took a long drag out of the cigarette. Its hot cherry burned a bright, fiery red before dulling once more to an ashy gleam. "A chance for fellas like us," he finally breathed. The smoky tendrils made their escape past his lips, taking his words with them.

"Oh," Jack muttered after a beat of silence. He wasn't quite sure he understood, nor wanted to understand, what Andrew was getting at, but tried hard not to let his disappointment seep out into his tone regardless.

It hadn't worked. In a moment, Andrew smashed the lit butt out against the wall, leaving them cloaked in darkness once more before leaning over to kiss him sweetly. It had knocked the breath out of Jack, just like their kisses were wont to do.

"Maybe someday you can come pay me a visit. I dunno, it might just be a sweet life down there, yanno?" Andrew's smile, only barely visible under the glow of the full moon above, was easy and inviting.

For once all motormouth Jack could do was smile back before eager hands, warm like the end of the cigarette and the whiskey settled deep in his belly, were on him again, ready to reignite the fire that set Jack aglow.

That summer, Andrew had pressed red-hot marks into his flesh that would soon fade on the outside but sear into Jack's soul for a lifetime, forever branding him as the different sort of boy he had been both warned about and accused of being in the entirety of his short life.

Looking back, he realized he'd known what Andrew had meant all along. At sixteen years old Jack knew what queer was, and finally understood, with no room for doubt in his mind, that it was him. He reckoned that weren't nobody's business but his own, though.

After that summer, Jack never did see Andrew again.

Twenty-four years later, tucked cozy warm into his Colorado bed, Andrew would awake from a dream about blue eyes and wonder, not for the first time, what had ever happened to the kid who'd been his that one short summer before making the move that forever changed his life. Looking beside himself, into the handsome face that had laid dreaming beside him every night the past fifteen years, Andrew would smile and hope that, wherever Jack Twist was in the world, he had gotten out of Wyoming and been lucky enough to make his own bit of bliss out of the hard hand he'd been dealt.

1. Clipped

Summary: Tomorrow may tell another story, but for tonight, this man—with his baby blue eyes, sleepy, self-conscious grumbles, and beautiful clipped dick—was his, all his, and that was enough. It had to be enough.

Aaand here's a fic I've actually posted! Lol! Fun fact: this was actually the very first fic I wrote following watching bbm again in January 2022, and it remains like. The only thing I'm actually super duper proud of. It isn't even that good, but I'm just proud that I actually finished something for once lol.

Thanks for the ask, @alifeasvivid! :D

#brokeback mountain #ennis del mar #jack twist #still brokeback posting #my writing

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aristocratic-otter · 1 year

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Woohoo, I'm down to five WIPs again! (Ok, at least two are waiting in the wings. But I officially haven't started writing those yet, so they don't count.) It's late, but I haven't posted in forever, so I'm determined to do that today.

It's been a long time since I posted, and so much glorious work has gone up in that time. Friends, your talent humbles me, and at the same time makes me so proud of the brilliancy of this fandom. Thank you to @cutestkilla, @palimpsessed, @blackberrysummerblog, @nightimedreamersghost, @fatalfangirl, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @thehoneyedhufflepuff, @shemakesmeforget, @artsyunderstudy

Snippets and tags under the cut

From: To Heal a Broken Mind (House AU):

“I regret…I regret so many things. But, most of all, I regret pushing you away. Making you think I hated you. Making you feel less.”

He looks surprised. “Making me think you hated me? You didn’t hate me?”

I shake my head. “I never did. I just…there were so many outside influences in my life, people I desperately wanted to please or impress, and being friendly with Mage’s chosen one would have made those people very unhappy. I’m sorry. I should have made my own decisions about how to act. But I was young, and stupid.”

“We both were, Baz,” Simon says, and he reaches out a hand and lays it over mine. It’s warm and soft. It’s clearly been years since he used it in the kind of manual labour and exercise that used to make his skin hard and calloused. I stare at it. “I was a prat to you, too. I gave as good as I got, honestly. We were both immature brats. I stopped blaming you for that years ago, Baz.”

“I—” I clear my throat, trying to pull back the tears that burn my eyes at his forgiveness. I don’t deserve it. But I’ll take it. I try again. “I want to try again, Snow. Try to be friends, I mean. If you’re willing to give me another chance.”

Simon smiles broadly, and this time there��s no hint of sadness in his face. “I’d love to, Baz.”

If my heart wants to hear those words as “I love you, Baz,” I’ll never tell.

From: Raising Dragons

I’m desperate enough that I’ve even asked Shepard Bunce for advice. He was the least comforting of all. “I don’t know too many hybrids,” he told me. “And they were all creature/normal hybrids, not creature/mage hybrids. But I do know that the creature powers and instincts were reduced in the hybrid offspring. Like the Jersey devil’s two kids can only make folk anxious with their screams, not out-of-their-mind-with-terror like the screams of their monster parent.”

From: Double Your Pleasure (EGF 2023, posting next week)

Suddenly, I need to see his beautiful eyes. “Baz…” I whisper.

His long, thick black eyelashes quiver, and his pale pink tongue peeks out of his mouth long enough to glide wetly over his lips. Slowly, so slowly, he tilts his head towards me and, when he’s finally facing me, his eyes flicker open. They’re misty with pleasure and so dilated I can only see a ring of pewter around the black irises, but I feel my heart settle into a more contented rhythm once I can see them.

“I love you,” I whisper.

From: Westward Son (COTTA 2021)

Penelope’s alive and that’s the most important thing, I tell myself as we make the last few short crossings, from island to island and island to shore. I don’t tell Simon that. I know he’d agree with me, but he loved those animals. He’d given them all names and he’d cared for them and babied their every hurt. His face has been drenched with tears on top of river water ever since he realized.

From: Saving Simon Snow

Simon

Two days ago, I was certain I’d be dead of deliberate starvation by now. Two hours ago, I was certain that Baz’s plan had no chance of working, that he’d doomed himself along with me.

Now? I’m certain of nothing.

I just know that Baz’s life rests on me convincing him to go through with this. I know he hates me. I know that being married to me is probably revolting to him. But I noticed what Baz apparently did not. I am magically cursed to not be able to be unfaithful to him. Baz is not under any compulsion at all.

Even if I’ll never be happy, even if Baz is forced to keep me hanging around, a perpetual roommate, he can still find love in someone else’s arms.

From: A secret project, gift fic for members of the discord valentine's exchange (will be posted on AO3 once everyone has gotten their valentines:

“Whoa,” Simon breathes. “D’you think it was real dragons? And are they still there?”

“Not likely,” I answer him. “This city has been settled for far too long for any dragon to be comfortable near it, I think. But they may have been here in the distant past. It was in this region where St. George reputedly slew a dragon. Though those old Christian priests were infamous exaggerators. Probably George fought a crocodile or a monitor lizard.”

Tagging for Wednesday, or just passing along a belated happy Valentine's day to you all, everyone above as well as

@annabellelux, @bazzybelle, @basiltonbutliketheherb, @bookish-bogwitch, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, @dragoneggos, @excalisbury, @fight-surrender, @fatalfangirl, @facewithoutheart, @giishu, @ionlydrinkhotwater, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @johnwgrey, @jbrrring, @jasonfunderberkerthefrogexists, @krisrix, @larkral, @letraspal, @messofthejess, @moodandmist, @martsonmars, @mostlymaudlin, @nightimedreamersghost, @onepintobean, @prettylightsbigcity, @raenestee, @theearlgreymage, @technetiumai, @tea-brigade, @whogaveyoupermission, @whatevertheweather, @yellobb-old, @yeonjunenby

#COTTA 2021 #egf2023 #xanadu Au #Valentine's day #Forced Marriage #Dragon Babies #wip wednesday #co/ws/awtwb #simon snow series

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raplinesmoon · 7 months

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a brief note:

i’m not usually very eloquent with my words, so if this is rough and i say something wrong or offensive, please forgive me, it’s been hard to piece together the right words. if there’s spelling errors, this is not proofread, and I’m sorry.

I’ve always maintained that writing and this blog is a safe space for me, a place to escape from the real world when I need it. but right now, what’s going on in the world isn’t something I can escape from. it’s robbed me of my sleep and my sanity. and honestly, writing and kpop just don’t even seem like valid enough escapes anymore, even though I feel immensely privileged to have these escapes in the first place. I feel numb. but it’s not even about me or this blog or any wips I have.

if you have five minutes to scroll through my blog, or any other kpop blog on Tumblr, I urge you to take another five minutes out of your day and learn about what’s going on in Gaza right now. do your own research, and uplift voices that aren’t being heard.

the beauty of being here is being able to connect with so many people far away, across the country or even across the world. if we can use our energy to celebrate our groups and our faves, we can also do the reverse.

life as we know it is being uprooted for so many people, the least we can do is be cognizant of that, to give some of our energy to mourn their losses and grieve alongside them. even better yet, we can hope alongside them that this reality doesn’t have to endure, that more innocent lives will not be lost.

if you get nothing else from this, I’ll leave you with this — if you’ve also been like me, feeling completely scared and horrified by what’s been unfolding, i see you. i feel your pain, and if you’re grieving, i feel your loss. i ask you to remember those on the other side of this who have a right to be even more scared and even more horrified, and who deserve your attention. the world is a complex and hard to understand place, but at the same time, it’s not. it’s brutal and violent. Please remember, that far beyond and political or religious debates, foreign economic and social policy, etc, when oppressors and bullies square off, and when people are power hungry, innocent lives are always in the middle of it. and that should be something that none of us are willing to be okay with.

if you want to stop reading here, that’s totally okay, otherwise check the tags to listen to me ramble on

#as a healthcare worker I can tell you the public health crisis that is unfolding right now as a result of greed and the desire for power #should be appalling to you #also this is not to meant to be a call out to anyone on my dash - just an explanation as to where my head is and why I can’t think straight #about writing or anything #the queue will continue to run #the fics will be written one day #but right now is not the moment for that #also like I said before I’m not engaging in any discourse on this blog - this isn’t something that benefits from people who are far removed #from the situation sitting thousands of miles away and debating about what ifs #when atrocities are unfolding in real time #like I said before it’s been hard for me and so many others to speak up or find the words to voice what’s been weighing so heavily on us #so in return all anyone asks if your kindness and ability to listen and to care #and it doesn’t even have to be on Tumblr - but I just hope that for energy anyone is giving bts/svt/atz/skz and others you’re also willing #to give that energy to humans irl #which shouldn’t even have to be said #but I said it anyway #personal #isi rambles #free Palestine 🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

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wangxianficrecs · 3 years

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Follower Recs

Stories I haven’t read yet, but clearly need to put on my ever-expanding List.

~*~

Welcome back queen [Thank you, it’s so lovely to be back!] if ur still doing follower recs I gotta recommend I would wait for a thousand years by bleuett it’s soooooooo good

[This one was actually recced to me by two different people, the other of whom said, “ Maybe I'm crying a little so I feel like a should recommend ‘I would wait for a thousand years’ by bleuett on ao3.”]... it’s def. on my List!

I would wait for a thousand years

by bleuett (T, 10k, wangxian)

Summary: During the worst of winter, a traveler comes to stay at Lan Wangji's inn. He wears a red ribbon in his hair.

“Do you see the rabbit?” Wei Ying asks and points at the moon. “That’s the moon rabbit, he helps make Chang’e more immortality elixir. He keeps Chang’e company.”

“I do not wish the rabbit for company,” Lan Wangji says tightly. “You are the one I want by my side.”

“And I’m here, Lan Zhan. If you go to the moon, I’ll follow you, I’ll always be here now.”

~*~

I just read a great fic by aisthuu "every love story is a ghost story", didn't see it in your recs so wanted to recommend it! LWJ is a guqin composer and teacher, buys a cheap guqin off eBay which ends up being attached to WWX's spirit from canon era. It's bittersweet, LWJ deals with Lan's homophobia (implicit in a Lan way) and his feelings towards the ghost. This is author's only ao3 fic and honestly I don't remember how I stumbled upon it, but I'm happy I did and hope you will enjoy it too! [I’ve recently read this one, and loved it!]

every love story is a ghost story

by aisthuu (M, 59k, wangxian, my bookmark)

Summary: The man is in Lan Zhan’s bed. Did they—he begins to wonder, eyes trailing to where the man’s body lies under the blanket. Had Lan Zhan—?

Then the sleep-fog clears and Lan Zhan realizes that the young man isn’t quite opaque around the edges.

“You’re a spirit.”

The spirit narrows its eyes. “I’m so much more than that.”

(Lan Zhan buys a guqin off eBay for a suspiciously low price, only to find that it’s haunted. And now there’s a ghost in his bed.)

~*~

Ok so I absolutely have to rec "see you yesterday" by glyphic. It's a wip, but it's currently at 101k so there's a whole lot there, and it's terrible and wonderful and beautiful all at once. The way the backstory of canon events is adapted to the modern-with-cultivation setting is brilliant, and then there's the amnesia, and then there's the time loop. This fic lives permanently rent-free in my brain.

see you yesterday

by glyphic (M, 101k, wangxian, WIP)

Summary:

Wei Ying 21:09 hey lan zhan what’s the weirdest way youve died

Lan Zhan 21:11 Falling encyclopedias.

Wei Ying 21:12 omg no way that’s so rude turning books against you???

Lan Zhan 21:13 A betrayal I will never forget.

On Halloween night, an exiled demonic cultivator and a Lan disciple get stuck in a time-loop, find each other, and try to figure it all out.

~*~

If you are looking for recs for yourself I absolutely love (the complete!) story Just as the Snow Melts by draechali on AO3. It's a canon divergence where everyone lives, even WWX! ~ @airmidcelt

Just as the Snow Melts

by draechaeli (T, 67k, wangxian)

Summary: Like a snowy mountain top in spring the residents of the Burial Mounds trickled down the mountain and joined the flow of society.

“I went to the Burial Mounds,” Lan WangJi said.

“Ah, yeah… I’m sorry Lan Zhan,” replied Wei WuXian, “I hadn’t thought anyone would come to visit. I am still not sure how it happened; I brought A-Yuan to Yiling to play by the river and then ended up somehow teaching a bunch of children swimming and writing along with him.”

~*~

Hello! It's come to my attention that you have not as yet read Grandmaster of Meme-onic Cultivation! Please do! It's the only thing that gave me joy during 2020 😆 like proper belly laughs and disney villain style cackling. It is a wip, and it is long but so so worth it!! The author has reworked the entire canon through these message crystals and still conveys complex characters despite the tricky format. It's just so good!! Highly highly recommend it! ❤ ~ @theladypeartree [Oh! I’ve been subscribed to this one, and know that @swaglexander-the-great is a reliable provider of Hilarity, so I’m excited for it to be finished!]

Grandmaster of Meme-onic Cultivation

by Hades_the_Blingking (T, 49k, wangxian, WIP)

Summary: The Untamed universe is exactly the same, except everybody has magical crystals that have a suspiciously familiar messaging system. The story is pretty much the same as the show, except everyone lives!! (so minor changes).

or in which Wei WuXian tries his darndest to date Lan Zhan, Jiang Cheng possibly has a aneurysm, Jin ZiXuan is still the most awkward human alive, and Xue Yang makes me write some VERY cursed things. Written in chatfic format! :3

~*~

Chomrafy on AO3 deserves love and encouragement; she’s written a body of compact, poetic, and eloquent shortfics each of which can stand alone, but that comprise an intricately cross-referential and mostly internally-consistent universe. They’re grouped as chapters in works according to theme; for example, “in cupped hands” focuses upon Jin Ling and his second-generation baggage; “Departure in Autumn” portrays the last years of WWX’s first life. Follow the tag “Chomrafy’s MDZS shortfics.” [I don’t see this tag?]

in cupped hands

by chomrafy (G, 2k, wangxian)

Summary: Of secrets, of futures, of love. A Jin Ling-centric collection of 200-word fics.

Ch.1: Jin Ling repays a debt (JL, JC, & WWX). Ch.2: Jin Ling and a ghost in the mirror. (JL & JYL) Ch.3: A matter of friends (JL & the other kids) Ch.4: In this house we don't keep dogs (JC & WWX) Ch.5: In the end, he remains silent (JL & uncles) Ch.6: A first night hunt, of sorts (JL & the other kids) Ch.7: Jin Ling, forgiving, forgetting (JL & LXC & JGY) Ch.8: Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling argue (JL, JC, & WWX) Ch.9: Jin Ling and his father (JL & JC) Ch.10: Jin Ling speaks up (JL, JC, & WWX) Ch.11: Jin Ling and a piece of home (JL, JC, & WWX)

Departure in Autumn

by chomrafy (not rated, 6k)

Summary: Four perspectives. A steady march to the end.

Ch.1: Because if anything happens to them, Wen Qing would never be able to heal with these hands again. Ch.2: As long as this is still home, Jiang Yanli will wait as long as she needs to. Ch.3: Five times Jiang Cheng reaches for Wei Wuxian, one time he turns away. Ch.4: Whether the road is broad or narrow, bright or dark, they would have to keep walking. Wei Wuxian digs Wen Qing's grave.

~*~

Hello, hope all is going well. I don't have an ask, by I do have a recommendation. I read this fic a while ago and found it again. I just wanted to recommend this for everyone. Let me know what you think please. Thank you. [Oh! This one’s in my To Read list, but I’d forgotten about it. Mmmm, fox!wwx and dragon!lwj.]

Ten miles of Lotus Flowers

by Yukirin_Snow

M, 274k, wangxian

Summary: He was a mischievous fox spirit, wreaking havoc where he went, about to depart on a journey that would span centuries.

He was a heavenly prince, a proud dragon destined to ascend the throne to become emperor.

Neither expected their paths to collide over the span of three lives.

~*~

I forgot if it was your blog 😥 that recommended “Bestseller” (when Wei Wuxian writes the Xianxia cut-sleeve equivalent of Fifty Shades of Grey, based entirely on his experiences with Lan Wangji, he doesn’t expect it to become the next big hit) (https://archiveofourown.org/works/21528316/chapters/51318766)

But OMG IT WAS HILARIOUS!!! I LOVED IT!! And if it wasn’t your blog, I’m so sorry for how weird this sounds 😭😭😭😭 I just loved this fic so much that I have to tell it to someone 😢 [It’s on my List, but I haven’t read it yet!]

Bestseller

by pupeez4eva

M, 8k, wangxian

Summary: He had written the book to prove a point. It was never supposed to be a big thing, and he certainly never intended for everyone — Jiang Cheng, Zewu-Jun, the Juniors, literally everyone— to be reading about his sex life.

Oh God, he definitely needed to make sure Lan Zhan didn’t find out about this.

(Or, when Wei Wuxian writes the Xianxia cut-sleeve equivalent of Fifty Shades of Grey, based entirely on his experiences with Lan Wangji, he doesn’t expect it to become the next big hit).

~*~

I’d like to rec On Your Marks, Get Set, Bake! by @blackwiresgrowonherhead

It’s one of my absolute favorites and I laughed out loud so many times when reading it

on your marks, get set, bake!

by BlackWiresOnHerHead

G, 41k, wei wuxian & juniors

Summary: Jin Ling resumes thumping on the door to room 721, and the small collection of freshmen starts chanting “Senior Wei! Senior Wei! Senior Wei!” with increasing volume until finally Wei Wuxian opens the door.

“Yes?” he says with his widest, most innocent eyes.

“Senior Wei!” demands Lan Jingyi, shoving himself to the front of the group. “Why didn’t you tell us you’re a contestant on this year’s season of The Great Gusu Bake Off?!?”

Several months ago, college student Wei Wuxian secretly competed in the most popular reality show in the country. The show starts airing in the fall. The freshmen in his dorm collectively lose their minds.

~*~

If you're in the mood for v. short ridiculous fun fic, may I suggest My chain hits my chest/When I'm bangin' on the radio by x_los It's 2k modern cultivators AU, featuring WWX calling LWJ's sword Bitchin' [omg I’m laughing so hard] and I think it's more fun going in blind?

My chain hits my chest/When I'm bangin' on the radio

by x_los

T, 2k, wangxian

Summary: Lan Wangji finds he doesn't even need to call for help for Wei Wuxian to come running.

#follower rec #wangxian fic rec #I HAVEN'T READ THESE YET #wangxian #mdzs

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thevioletwitch999 · 3 years

Text

➻ Your Name in Ink

✦ pairing(s): mammon x gn!reader.

✦ word count: 1.2k.

✦ format: drabble, one-shot.

✦ synopsis: you get a little something to surprise Mammon.

✦ warnings: sfw.

✦ genre: tooth-rotting fluff.

✦ notes: aaa I finally came back from the dead. I thought this idea was really cute and I just had to write about it for my fave boy, I’m also sorry if he’s a lil ooc, I haven’t written him in forever, I hope u guys like it and if u could like, maybe, perhaps reblog/comment and/or leave a like it’d really make my day, thank u. 👉🏻👈🏻🥺

✦ ask box → rules before requesting → masterlist → wips

“He’s going to love this,” you thought with a smile on your face, all the while stroking the tender spot on your hip through the bandage.

You had been contemplating getting a tattoo for a while now, and when you saw that there was a tattoo parlor in the same plaza that you and Asmodeus always got your nails done, you immediately decided to book an appointment the moment you got home.

“You know I appreciate romanticism in all forms, truly, I do–” the amber-eyed man sitting in front in front of you began, swirling his iced latte with his straw before gesturing towards your new tat with his chin–”but did you really have to get his name on your body? Mine would look way better, don’t you agree, darling?”

“If I blew Mammon off to get a tattoo of your name, I don’t even want to think about what he’d do,” you laughed, taking a sip of your own coffee. You’d sacrificed time with your boyfriend to get this tattoo, under the false pretense that you were going to be running errands all day, and he was not happy about it, especially when he heard that Asmodeus was going with you, and insisted on coming along. Thankfully, Lucifer had come to the (not so?) rescue, and told Mammon that he wouldn’t be going anywhere until he cleaned up the mess he and Leviathan made in the common room after the former cheated in a game of cards.

“Please, the worst he’d do is sulk in his room until you pulled him out, you know he can never stay mad at you,” Asmo rolled his eyes, and you couldn’t help but grin at the adorable thought of Mammon pouting away in the corner. He really was a big baby sometimes, but that’s precisely why you loved him.

When the two of you left the café, the sun had started to go down, and your phone was bombarded with messages from the man in question. He’d been blowing it up since you’d arrived at the parlor, and you ended up having to put it on silent so you and Asmodeus could enjoy your café outing in peace.

Scrolling through the multitude of messages, you felt bad for ignoring him, but you knew it’d all be worth it when you saw the look on his face after showing him your new design.

“I’ll be home soon!! Sorry for not texting, but I have a surprise for you, look forward to it! :) I love you!!” you sent him.

His response came not even a full minute later.

“This had BETTER be worth it, I’m not gonna forgive ya so easily for ignorin’ me all day!”

“..and I guess I love ya too, but you’re going to make this up to me later! Don’t forget it!”

You found it incredibly sweet that no matter how mad he was at you, he always made sure to say “I love you” back, even if it was accompanied by a spam of angry emojis, just like now.

“I won’t,” you mumbled to yourself, putting your phone back in your pocket with a soft smile. You couldn’t wait to get home.

As you’d expected, Mammon was right on the doorstep waiting to give the both of you an earful when you returned.

“Listen, when I text ya, you’d better respond within five--no, two minutes! Don’t go ghostin’ me like that, makin’ me think something happened,” he said, his creased eyebrows making lines form on his forehead.

“Aww, was someone worried about me?” you teased, prodding at his chest with your finger.

“Pff, as if! Worried, me? That’s crazy! Nonsensical, even!”

“When you say it like that, it doesn’t sound that convincing, you know?” Asmodeus sighed. “Besides, they were with yours truly, so there was no possibility of something harming them,” he said with a wink, draping his arm over you.

“Oi! Hands off!” Mammon smacked his younger brother’s hands away from you. “They ain’t yours!”

“So clingy!” Asmo gasped, clutching onto his assailed hand, “Well, no matter, I’ll leave you guys to have some fun, don’t get too carried away now, ‘kay?” he waved to the both of you before heading inside.

“You’ve got a lot of explainin’ to do,” Mammon jabbed his finger at your forehead.

“I know, I know, let’s go to my room, shall we?”

Once you both got situated in your bedroom, you’d made sure to give him the answers he was looking for.

“So you’re tellin’ me you weren’t doin’ errands today? You got a tattoo?” Mammon digested your words. “Why’d ya need to lie to me about that?”

“It has to do with your surprise,” you smiled at him. “Pull up my shirt and take off the bandage, Mammon.”

Once he’d done as you told him, his mouth fell agape; there, on the left side of your hip, was his name, plastered in black italic letters.

“Do you like it?” you asked him, eager to hear his response.

“Dummy..of course I like it..” he said quietly under his breath, just barely loud enough for you to hear. He lightly stroked the reddened spot with his fingers, causing you to flinch.

“Sorry, did I hurt ya?”

“No, it just stings a little,” you reassured him, “so you’re really happy with it?”

He nodded, “I mean, it’s no surprise that you’d want the Great Mammon’s name on ya, seeing as I’m a renown man and all that, but I can’t deny it makes me happy,” a sheepish grin spread across his face. “What made ya decide to get it?”

“I wanted a piece of you with me wherever I went,” you told him, a glimmer of fondness in your eyes as you stroked his cheekbone with your thumb, “so even if I’m somewhere far away, like the human world, you’ll always be with me.”

A dust of pink coated his cheeks, turning a deeper hue with each word that left your lips, and you could’ve sworn you saw his eyes becoming glassy before his gaze left yours. He clicked his tongue, and before you could ask what was wrong, he took you into his arms.

“What about when I miss ya, then? What’ll I do?” he sullenly buried his face into your shoulder, making you giggle at the ticklish sensation.

“We have our chocolate lizards,” you informed him while running your fingers through his hair, “but if that’s not enough for you, maybe you’ll just have to get a tattoo of my name, too.”

He stiffened in your arms, before pulling back and squeezing your shoulders.

“T-Then it’s settled then! I’m making an appointment as soon as we wake up tomorrow!”

You had to admit, you weren’t expecting him to take your suggestion seriously, “Mammon, I was joking! You don’t really have to–”

“Nope! I’ve already made up my mind, ya can’t stop me!” He toothily smiled at you, before pulling you into bed with him. “But until then, ya gotta make up for neglecting me the entire day and let me cuddle ya, no objections.”

“I wouldn’t, anyway,” you laughed as he nuzzled his face into your tattoo, feeling nothing but love and adoration for the man who held a place in both your heart and now on your body.

#obey me #obey me mammon #obey me fluff #obey me drabble #obey me one shot #mammon x reader #mammon x you #✧ * º • — ᵐʸ ʷʳᶤᵗᶤᶰᵍ ☽

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iliveiloveiwrite · 3 years

Text

Wait For Me // D.M.

Request: hi! can you do a request where draco performed the obliviate curse on his gf before the war, then met her again post war when he became a healer? the storyline is up to you! by the way, i really really like your fics 🥺 - anon

A/N: This request let me explore all the things I love: angst, healer!draco, and redemption. Thank you for trusting me with this request, I love it so much. This was not also on my WIP lost but I had an idea and I ran with it. With some hope, my next few fics will be from that list!!

Warnings: angst, mentions of nightmares and injuries, some anxiety, short words and tempers, swearing. A HAPPY ENDING or at least the start of one.

Word count: 5.2k

1996:

“You know why I have to do this, right?” Draco whispers: worried that if he were to speak any louder his voice would give away how close he is to breaking.

You nod once. A solemn nod that juxtaposes the tears falling freely down your face. How could you be agreeing to this when it made you feel like your heart was being ripped out?

“I’m sorry,” He whispers, arms reaching for you, the urge to touch too strong to resist. “If they used you against me or if you got hurt, I would never forgive myself.”

You hush him; not missing the irony of the situation. To be comforting him when you were going to have a large chunk of your memories taken from you, it was almost laughable.

The final few moments together are spent in silence, wrapped in each other’s arms, getting as much of the other as possible before inevitably having to let go. You bury your face in his chest, almost refusing to let go of him as he unhooks your hands from around his waist.

The time has come; it’s come too soon.

You barely register Draco’s tears mixing with yours as he hauls you in for one last desperate kiss. His forehead remains pressed to yours as he whispers three words.

“Wait for me.”

Then everything goes blank. A flash of white and your life begins anew.

No memories of the last year of your life; no thoughts about the blonde haired teenager that had occupied your mind and stolen your heart.

There’s nothing.

Five years later:

The strong antiseptic smell has your nose crinkling in distaste. The overhead lights buzz as the bright light bounces off the overly clean floor; it makes your head hurt more. You place a tentative hand to the side of your head, frowning further when you feel the large bump growing there. Removing your hand, you sigh, remembering the tears of the pupil that had done this.

Not long after the war, a new decree was issued setting up centres of education for young witches and wizards that showed magical promise. They operated extremely similar to a muggle primary school; however these followed the curriculum created by the Ministry of Magic.

It was in one of these schools that you worked, choosing to train as a teacher after finishing your education.

A rogue ball is what had landed you in the emergency room of the only magical hospital in Britain. It had come out of nowhere; the children playing happily as the weather had improved over the course of the day.

Tapping your foot impatiently off the tiled floor, you had to admit to yourself it had been partly your fault for not seeing the ball before it knocked you on the side of the head and subsequently knocked you to the floor. The child, a young Hugo Ward, had felt terrible – sobs wracking his body as he apologised to you over and over again to the point where you had to reassure him you were fine.

An hour after the accident, it became evident that you were not fine. The dizziness and double vision being symptoms of something worse, your boss had sent you off to St. Mungo’s without room for argument, promising you she would cover your class for the rest of the day.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N),” calls the triage nurse. A blonde middle aged lady with bright eyes and a kind smile; she points in the direction of exam room two and you flash her a grateful smile.

The hospital bed is uncomfortable as you take a seat on top of the crinkly paper. The pounding in your head had not stopped since you arrived but the dizziness was calming somewhat, and for that, you were thankful. It happens as a flash; a memory washes over you of a large hospital wing, two rows of beds and an elderly lady with fierce determination written over her face.

A single blink and it disappears. The flashes hadn’t happened for a while; the aftermath of a memory charm inflicted upon in your Sixth Year at Hogwarts. It wasn’t known who had done it; they had found you wandering the halls of Hogwarts alone and confused before realising what had happened. You had recovered fairly quickly; the only aftermath being the flashes of what could be memories.

You sigh, sinking further into the gurney as you think of the pile of marking waiting for you at home. Even a sore head couldn’t put off the inevitable.

The Healer doesn’t look up as he enters, pulling the curtain closed behind him, “I’m Healer Malfoy, how can I help you today?”

You sit straighter as you take in the healer. Blonde hair down to the nape of his neck, tied back with what seems to be a leather cord. He hasn’t looked up at you yet, but from your spot, you could tell he was handsome. A strong jaw being home to a distracting mouth. You look away, admiring the rest of him before you could be caught staring at his lips.

Healer Malfoy’s face slackens for a second as his eyes rake over your face. He collects himself after a second, but still, you noticed. He clears his throat, looking down at the chart in his hand. “(Y/N) (Y/L/N)?”

You nod, “That’s me.”

“You hurt your head at work?”

Again, you nod, “Twice over. A pupil threw a ball at my head by accident, but I knocked my head on the playground as I fell.”

Healer Malfoy places your chart on a nearby table, pulling latex gloves out of his pocket as he does so. He smiles at you, but there’s something guarded about the expression on his face that has question after question springing up in your overworked and pained mind.

“Did you lose consciousness?” Healer Malfoy asks routinely, silently gesturing to your head, asking for permission to feel the injury.

“No,” You answer, turning your head for him to feel the bump on the side of your head.

You hear his sharp inhale as he examines the large bump there. As if seeing you hurt physically hurt him too, yet how was that possible? Thinking through your admittedly fragmented memories, you cannot find a whisper of what the blonde haired man could have looked like younger. Something niggled in the back of your mind, a feeling, a hunch. You didn’t know what, but it got stronger every time you met the grey eyes of the handsome Healer Malfoy.

“This is going to sound odd but go with me on it please?” You say, voice lilting into a question at the end. The idea of not giving this man in front of you a choice simply abhorrent to you.

Healer Malfoy smiles: it’s polite and doesn’t reach his eyes. He takes a step back from you, needing the distance but also done with the examination of your injury. “Okay, I’ll go with it,” He states warily.

Your hands clench into fists; overcome with the urge to try and coax a smile out of him. “I don’t know how else to say it. Do we know each other? You feel familiar to me, as if I know you from somewhere.”

Whatever smile was on Healer Malfoy’s face falls the instant the words leave your mouth. His entire demeanour changes – shoulders stiff, hands gripping your chart so tight it could snap in half. Unclenching his jaw, Healer Malfoy grits out, “No. We haven’t met before.”

“Are you sure?” You press, deciding desperately that you needed to know the man standing in front of you.

“Very sure,” He murmurs, scribbling your discharge notes and handing them to you. “I would remember you if we had met before.”

The blank confession leaves you speechless. Blinking in what could only be described as shock, you take the outstretched papers.

“Your prescription is there too. You show no major signs of a concussion, just rest for tonight at least and watch out for anymore footballs,” Healer Malfoy starts, “Should you have any more problems, you know where to find us.”

Taking the dismissal for what it was, you hurriedly grab your bag from the gurney and leave the exam room, taking extra care to hide the dejected look on your face as you pass the handsome healer.

Draco watches you go. You all but sprint out of the hospital, almost desperate in your escape to get away from him and his short words.

The threat has been gone for years; vanquished not too long after the night Draco had taken your memories, after the night that continues to haunt his nightmares.

Draco Malfoy had faced the Dark Lord and lived – he has stared death in its sallow face and was not the first to look away. Yet, Draco was ever more terrified of what you would do should your memories ever return. Your rage was entirely more terrifying than staring into the soulless eyes of the man his parents so blindly followed.

Draco releases a breath as he spies your figure finally leaving the hospital. The released breath does nothing to loosen the tightness in his chest; the tightness that had been there since that fateful night in the astronomy tower.

He’s had this argument with himself countless times, always the same words and the same fight. His own justification for why he did what he did; why he took your memories of your relationship and sent you away. Deep down, Draco knows that he should have communicated better. He knows that he should have sat you down and explained to you his worries and his fears. However, at barely seventeen years old, Draco was just getting used to the idea of love. He knew what was coming; he knew that there were dark times ahead and he was unfortunately aware of how you could be used against him should the time come.

He had a decision to make, so he did. Thinking back on it now, it had almost killed him. He had never experienced a pain like it. Draco had been hit with the Sectumsempra curse and the pain that followed was nothing compared to the pain he felt when erasing your memories.

Draco turns away from the door. You’ve disappeared around the corner; your head bowed, and shoulders hunched. He has no reason to watch you now. He turns away from the door, wondering whether it was fate that had brought you back into his life after such an absence.

An absence he caused.

-------

You return to work the day after; feeling fine enough to stand in front of your class and deliver your lessons of literacy and maths but also of spellcasting and magical control for infants. You followed your lesson plans to the letter; resolutely refusing to stray from them should they let your mind wander to the handsome healer and his cold words.

The healer continues to play on your mind for the rest of the week: at work, at home. You would go over the brief conversation you had with him; wondering at which point his demeanour changed, that he became closed off and cold. He hadn’t been welcoming from the beginning, but by the end of it he had downright cold. It should have warned you off; it should have been warning enough to keep your distance and to do your best to ensure you never needed to return to the emergency room, yet there was something about him. There was something hidden within his grey eyes, a dark secret ravaging him from the inside out and you felt desperate to know what it was.

-------

As much as you adore your vocation, as much as you love coming into work and greeting the children with a smile, there was something sweet about sending them home to their parents. A sweet relief that loosens the weight on your chest somewhat.

A shock of blonde hair has you turning back to the school gates. Your breath catches in your throat as you recognise the handsome face of the healer that had treated you only a week ago. His face not one you felt like you could forget.

“Healer Malfoy?” You call out, confused at his presence.

He smiles bashfully, “Draco, please.”

“Draco,” You greet. “Do you often make home visits?” You tease, a smile crossing your face.

“Technically, I’m at your place of work so this would be a work visit,” Draco comments, laughing lightly, seeming to be in a much better mood than the last time you had met him.

Your smile grows larger at the sound of his laughter. “Okay… do you often make work visits?”

He shakes his head, “No. I do not.”

“Why are you here?”

“Two reasons.”

“And they are.”

“One, and one I thought of just now – I wanted to apologise for my behaviour at the hospital the other day, I was rude, and it was out of line so I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologise for. I doubt that you get asked by many of your patients whether you know them.”

Draco smiles, “You’re right, I don’t, but nevertheless, I shouldn’t have been so rude, and I apologise.”

“Then I accept your apology, only if you accept mine.”

He goes to argue but stops himself at the last possible moment. You meet his gaze head on, watching the emotions pile up there. There’s something lingering in his grey eyes; something deeper as if he has more to apologise for but he isn’t ready to confess to what or why he even needs to say more.

“What was your second reason for being here?” You question, curiosity piqued but also wanting to move the conversation on, unable to look into his grey eyes any long for the fear that your heart may burst out of your chest.

Draco smiles, “I’m picking up my godson.”

“Your godson? Do I know who he is?”

“You might. Tobias Dawsey?”

Recognition flashes across your face as you picture the small brunette in your mind’s eye. “I do know him! I taught him last year,” You all but shout, “He’s your godson?”

Draco nods, “He is. I’ve worked with his mother from my very first day at St. Mungo’s, she asked me to be godfather when she found out she was pregnant with him.”

His words warm your heart; the care he has for his godson obvious in his voice. You go to say more, to try and coax more information out of him. Your need to know him almost choking you with its intensity, but for the life in you, you couldn’t figure out why you needed to know him. You move to speak, but you’re interrupted by the excited crow of a young child.

“Uncle Draco!” Tobias shouts, running up to his uncle on his little legs, his bookbag banging against them with every step.

“Hey kiddo,” Draco greets, picking up the child making grabby arms for him.

“Do you know Miss (Y/L/N)?”

Draco nods. “Miss (Y/L/N) came into work the other week,” He states, thankfully not exaggerating further.

Tobias frowns, turning his attention to you, concerned about his favourite teacher, “Are you okay though?”

You smile at the young brunette, “I’m all better. Your Uncle Draco fixed me up.”

Tobias nods seriously, “He’s the best Healer ever.”

You laugh; the love Tobias has for his godfather so clear within his voice, it only warms your heart further. “I have no doubt in that, Tobias. Off you go anyway, I wouldn’t want to keep you from getting home.”

Tobias and Draco wave at you as they leave the school grounds. The smile on your face doesn’t fade as you watch them walk away, the young boy chattering the ear off his devoted uncle.

Deep down, where you would only admit to yourself and no-one else, you hoped that you would get to see the handsome blonde healer again.

-------

Over the following weeks you spy Draco’s presence more by the school gates. Tobias clearly adores him, sprinting into his uncle’s arms the moment he sees him waiting for him. Crossing your arms across your chest, you comment, “You must be a very devoted godfather to volunteer to pick up Tobias this often.”

Draco shrugs nonchalantly as if the task of reorganising his shifts was nothing of a chore, “I enjoy spending time with him and…”

“And?”

Draco ducks his head, feeling the familiar heat of blush creep up his neck, “I like talking to you.”

He feels like it’s the wrong thing to say. He knows it’s the wrong thing to say. If he had an ounce of human decency within him, he would turn away from you the moment Tobias arrives. He would walk away from you, never to come back into your life again. What he did all those years ago was unforgivable despite having your permission. Draco knows he shouldn’t be back in your life, but now that he had seen you once or twice, he had to see you more.

He felt like an addict. He couldn’t leave you alone. Draco didn’t want to if he was honest with himself especially when you grin at him so widely his heart pounds in his chest.

You duck your head, your hair hiding your face. “I like talking to you too even if it is only at the school gate,” You shyly admit.

“Then we should change that,” Draco stutters out before he backs down. He wants to kick himself; he should turn away from you now and leave you alone for good, but that one selfish part of him that powers his heart tells him to stay put.

If possible, your smile grows larger, “Then we should change that.”

------

The friendship feels so natural once it starts; once the both of you get past the initial awkwardness that seemed to loiter from Draco’s cold words earlier in the year. It started with longer conversations at the school gate, but then he would come with Tobias’ mother and wait for you as Tobias would reluctantly leave with his mother. From there, it grew into a timid friendship that slowly grew more surer of itself as you invited Draco out for food or to museums or to spend the weekend with you, walking around the city when he wasn’t working.

However, as the friendship became more solid, you could not ignore the way your heart sped up with every smile and every laugh. You could not ignore the way your face heated each time he winked at you; a private joke shared between you. It didn’t feel like a passing fancy. It felt like something deeper, as if the feelings had been there before and had been dormant until now. You felt as if you were always meant to feel this way about Draco – the feelings tugging on memories you weren’t even sure were yours. Flashes of blonde hair and the powerful scent of jasmine all tied in with late nights in a tower you could barely recognise. Draco made you feel like the only person in the world; he was supportive and kind and funny. He was everything you could want and more – how could you not fall for him?

There was still the remaining secret though. It haunted him; his eyes clouded over whenever it was on his mind as if he was returning to the very memory itself. He would return shier, unsure of himself as if the friendship he had forged with you was about to implode and leave him shattered once more.

You ask him about it once. The two of you sat on your couch; you introducing Draco the wonders of muggle films and showing him your favourites when you catch him zone out. Your finger reaches out, pokes his cheek. “Where did you just go?” You question, a smile in your voice.

Draco reaches out, grabbing your finger, “Nowhere of importance.”

You frown, pulling your finger out of his grip, “You do that a lot.”

“Do what a lot?”

“Disappear on me. It’s like you have something big to tell me, but you just aren’t ready yet.”

Draco feels certain his heart stops in his chest. He tries to laugh but it comes out strangled; choked by the worry creeping up from his gut. Draco opens his mouth to reply but you beat him to it. “I’m not saying you have to tell me what it is now,” You start, “I just want you to know that I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

Draco closes his eyes, rests his head against the back of your couch. You had so graciously opened your home to him, opened your life and offered friendship to him, and he felt awful. As he should, he thinks to himself. He had taken memories of importance from you, and here you sat, unaware of the crime and sitting with the criminal himself.

It felt like there was a countdown ticking over his head. It felt like he only had a certain amount of time until he had to come clean and he had to tell you about that night in the astronomy tower.

Yet for all that was in him, for all that created his moral compass, he couldn’t bring himself to tell you and ruin whatever was blossoming between the two of you. Draco supposes he is a coward. He probably is, he tells himself, but he cannot bring himself to care about his cowardice when you smile at him like he holds the sun and stars for you.

Does he regret that night? With everything within him. Would he do it again knowing the outcome? Of course he would. He would sacrifice himself and his happiness a thousand times over to ensure your safety.

---------

Draco tells himself he’ll confess the next time he sees you which is both all too soon and not soon enough. His love for you had never faded; he hadn’t been the one to forget the short relationship you had. The intensity that accompanied teenage love and infatuation had never left the forefront of his mind. After all, how could they? Now that you were back in his life, he felt the teenager again – utterly drawn to you and unwilling to let you go.

He confesses late on a Tuesday night. The shift at St. Mungo’s had been long and arduous, but he got through it with the single thought of you. He knew that at the end of it, he would get to knock on your door. He only hoped that you wouldn’t turn him away once you found out the truth. Your hatred of him could never rival the hatred he feels for himself, but he finds himself hoping for your forgiveness.

“I have to tell you something,” Draco states, plain and simple.

You chew on the inside of your cheek before answering, “You can tell me anything.”

“You had a memory charm used on you in Sixth Year, didn’t you?”

“How did you know that?” You demand. Despite the friendship grown between the both of you, you hadn’t told him that. You had given him bits and pieces, alluded to the fact that there were gaps in your memories, but you hadn’t told him the truth. Just like he hadn’t told you what made him disappear inside his mind like he so often does.

“I took your memories. It was me.” Draco confesses, his voice clear in the quiet room.

“What?” You shout, anger shooting through you.

“I took your memories. I used a memory charm on you in the middle of Sixth Year when things started to take a turn for the worst.”

“What gave you the right?” You cry, tears building out of upset and anger.

“You did,” Draco states plainly, “You didn’t want to at first, but you came round to my way of thinking when you saw how bad things were getting at home.”

“Why would I agree to that?”

“Because once upon a time, you were in love with me.”

You shake your head, pacing back and forth in your living room, trying to get to grips with the piles of information only just dumped on you. Draco watches you pace; his grey eyes following each step intently as you work through everything in your head.

Worry shines bright in his eyes when you stop pacing. He goes to take a step towards you, but you step back. The small space between you feels like a great chasm, a gaping void that Draco is desperate to fill, to patch up.

“Tell me everything,” You state before adding on, “Please.”

Draco releases a shuddering breath before starting: “We were friends through school. I don’t remember how the friendship started, but it did and for years we were really good, close friends. Then along the way, the friendship changed. We fell in love, or whatever it is at sixteen/seventeen years old. We had less than a year together when things started to change; when whisperings of the Dark Lord’s return were strengthened by continued attacks on the Ministry.

“You argued with me for hours,” Draco pauses, laughing as he remembers what you clearly couldn’t, “I had never seen you so angry or so stubborn. You were adamant, you didn’t want to but then you went quiet and I knew you saw what I had seen. You agreed after a minutes silence; told me yes even though it broke the both of us to do so.

Draco’s grey eyes are lined with unshed tears as he murmurs, “I couldn’t let them have you. My family was working with the darkest wizard there had ever been in the last century, if he had gotten a whiff of what you meant to me, you would be used in ways that not even I could imagine. My aunt would have taken great pleasure in ensuring that you would be a bargaining chip for me to fulfil whatever mission they handed me. That was something I couldn’t allow.

“It broke me to do it. To watch your eyes go blank as the memories of what we shared disappeared. Selfishly, I asked you to wait for me, not knowing that they would be tied to you afterwards. I just… I couldn’t let you go. As a teenager and an adult. There’s no real excuse for what I did, but know it was out of love for you that I did it.”

Draco falls silent. His heavy words adding to the growing tension in the room. Draco’s mind runs a thousand miles a minute; his eyes don’t leave you as he watches you work through every emotion coursing through your body. He sees the anger, the sadness, the frustration, but he also sees the relief at having an answer for those gaps that you had only recently confessed to him.

You break the loaded silence, “I forgot the relationship, but on some level I don’t think I ever forgot you.”

“What?” Draco asks, the air rushing out of him in one fell swoop.

A smile creeps across your face; relishing somewhat at having caught him off-guard. “I have glimpses of what I always assumed was a past life. The memories were always fuzzy around the edges, but they were clear enough for me to catch glimpses of blonde hair or to spy the pattern of a ring much like the one on your signet ring.”

Draco remains silent; he doesn’t dare talk; he doesn’t dare breathe. Nothing prepares him for your next words.

“I waited for you… like you asked.”

Those words. Those foolish words that he had absolutely no right to whisper to you. Draco had been so overwhelmed in that moment, yet he couldn’t ignore the small kernel of hope that despite the strength of the memory charm, a part of you would remember him and would wait for him.

But you had.

You had waited for him. You barely knew who he was, but you had waited for him, hoping that one day he would cross your path.

“Fuck,” Draco whispers, running a hand through his growing hair, starting to pace the length of your living room.

“When I woke after my memories had been taken, I clearly didn’t remember a single thing, but I had the echoes of three words ringing in my ears. A beg, a plea of someone – a boy asking for me to wait for them. I didn’t know completely who I was waiting for, I didn’t know it was you until I saw you at the hospital that first time and then again so soon after leaving. My memories haven’t returned, and I doubt they will, but I just know that it was you who I was waiting for.”

Draco falls silent, letting your words fall over him and sink into his skin, settling deep within his bones.

Years. It had been years since that night in the astronomy tower where he took your memories. It had been years since he felt the longing and love; there had been no-one lese and there would be no-one else. For Draco, there was only ever you… and you had waited.

You had waited for him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Draco repeats, hands continuing to run through his hair in frustration as he paces the room. He faces you; grey eyes wild with emotion, “How are you not angry with me?”

“I am angry with you! I’m furious with you, Draco! You took my memories, but if you say I agreed to it, I’m just as angry with myself for allowing myself to forget you.”

“What do we do?” He asks, a hand running down his face as he tries to figure out the next step.

“Forgiveness,” You state simply, “We try to move on.”

Draco’s hands drop limply at his side as he gasps, “Forgiveness?”

“What happened after you erased my memories, Draco?”

“There was a war. I was on the wrong side,” is all he says. He isn’t ready to go into too much detail. That’s another story for another day.

“Was that what you were trying to protect me from? The wrong side?”

Draco nods wordlessly. He saw things going south so quickly but his parents hadn’t. They pushed and they pushed; inducting him into the same pureblood fanaticism they relished. “How can you even think of forgiving me? I took your memories. I stole them from you, and you won’t ever get them back,” He argues, wanting to know whether you truly understood what you were doing by forgiving him.

“Let me ask you something, Draco.”

“What?”

“Do you plan on leaving again?”

He shakes his head immediately. He doesn’t think he could leave you even if he tried.

You shrug your shoulders, “That’s how I can think of forgiving you.”

“I don’t understand,” He whispers; his own self-hatred confused by your words.

“The wizarding war was about to descend into war. We were confused, scared teenagers who didn’t see another option. You asked my permission, Draco, and I granted it clearly.”

“But-”

You cut him off, “No buts. I said yes. I gave permission and we cannot change the past, Draco but we can control our future. It’s going to require work on both sides, but you can tell me about what I’m missing and at the same time we can forge something new.”

“What do you mean?”

You smile shyly, taking that all important step towards him, “Make some new memories with me, Draco.”

*****

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @theweasleysredhair @harrypotter289 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @figlia--della--luna @idont-knowrn @liilyevanss @big-galaxy-chaos @black-lake-confessions @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @mytreec @haphazardhufflepuff @teheharrypotter @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @starlightweasley @dreaming-about-fanfictions @lestersglitterglue @msmimimerton @obx-beach @izzytheninja @slytherinprincess03 @bbeauttyybbx @breadqueen95 @acciotwinz @kashishwrites @slytherinsunrise @kylosleftbuttcheek @remmyswritings @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon @ria-rests-here @superbturtlemakerathlete @inglourious-imagines @ithilwen-lionheart @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @ilovejjmaybank

Draco Malfoy taglist: @the--queen-of-hell @obxmxybxnk @obx-beach @sycathorn-slush @dracomalfoyswifey @kashishwrites @justmesadgirl @detroitobsessed @reaganwonders @just-a-belgian-girl @aspiringsloth20 @lahoete @minty-malfoy @fallinallinmendes @ravenclawbitch426 @ochrythum @beiahadid @gryffindors-weasley

#draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy imagine

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dearest-solitude · 3 years

Text

Punishment, a short scene

(since at least one person seemed interested in reading some of my abandoned wips, here is the first. tw for violence. story below.)

“Lie down on the floor.” His gaze is glacial as he looks at her, and Violet’s lip wobbles.

“No.”

“Violet,” he says, tone laden with warning.

Her breath comes faster, and she drops to her knees. “Please, no. I’m sorry.”

“Down,” he insists, pointing sternly at the ground.

“I’m sorry!”

“I said ‘lie down,’ you wretched girl!”

His shout makes her flinch, and she sobs, whole body shaking as she lies down in front of him. “Please, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry! Olaf-”

“Stop sniveling! You made this mess, now lie in it.”

She can’t tell l if his error of phrase is intentional, fitting though it is. The floor is cold where her shoulder blades press into it and her fingers pinch at her skirt. Like a wild animal, every inch of her longs to run, to do anything except comply, but she’s terrified. “Please, p-please, please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-” She’s borderline hysterical, unable to draw full breaths, stattico sobs punctuating every word.

Olaf rolls his eyes. “If you’re really sorry then you understand why I need to punish you. Those parents of yours taught you about uh, rules and respecting your betters, didn’t they?”

She nods, agreeing without listening.

“Good. So you understand why discipline is important for troublesome little girls such as yourself.” He pauses thoughtfully. “Discipline and obedience.”

Her body trembles in wild terror as he lifts one foot and sets it atop her rib cage, right between her breasts. “W-what’re you— what are— what are you—” Sobs continue to tear themselves from her throat, and she still can’t breathe, and her heartbeat pounds like a hammer inside her skull.

“How about this;” he says, and presses down slightly on the body beneath him. A whimper draws from the back of her throat. “You count to ten and don’t move and then we’ll be done. How does that sound?”

His voice is saccharine and what it sounds like is a trap but Violet finds herself nodding fervently. “And then you- and then you won’t- you won’t be mad?” she manages to get out, tears still sliding down her cheeks onto her ears and stringy hair.

Olaf nods. “If you count too fast or you stop, we start over. Start when you’re ready.”

Violet takes one, two shallow breaths. Her chest is still shuddering and her hands tremor uncontrollably beside her. She’s okay. Just count to ten. She can do it. “One,” she begins. “Two.”

And that’s as long as it takes for her to realize what’s going on. The pressure of his foot on top of her gets more intense and he watches her with a gleam in his eye like a wolf who’s caught a rabbit.

“Th-three…” she continues, pressing her chin down to watch as he continues to grind his foot down. It’s uncomfortable and restrictive and she fights the panic washing through her to say, “Four.” The pressure turns painful and a sob rips from her. New tears prickle her eyes. “Five.” Her voice is a high whine. Her eyes dart up to Olaf, who is watching his foot with a smug smile. “—Six,” she gasps. It’s too much. She can’t breath. She can’t breath. “It’s—”

“You’ll start the count over,” he warns, looking very much as though he’d like to.

“Seven!” Her nails scrape at the floor beneath her, and she pressed her heels down, whole body straining and shaking. “Eight— Wait—” He grinds his heel down so viciously she can feel her ribs flex under the pressure.

“Nine!” Her hands flutter nervously near her chest now, and for a moment she begins to say the final number, thinks everything is going to be fine, but something in her chest gives with a popping sound and searing pain and she screams.

“Ten,” Olaf finishes, lifting his foot away. Violet rolls onto her side, pulling her knees to her body and cradling her midsection but that hurts and it hurts to breathe and every sob is like someone set her on fire. “You didn’t actually make it to ten, but you did better than I thought you would and this has cheered me up considerably so I’ve decided to forgive you.”

—

Photo credit Eric Antoine.

Find more of my writing on ao3.

#my writing #asoue #count olaf #violet baudelaire #violence tw #violaf #violet #whumpblr #whump

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kasienda · 3 years

Note

Hi! For the WIP ask game, oh gosh. I LOVE Restorative Justice, and I've been wondering if you were going to update it. I'm so glad it's still in the works and I totally understand the difficulty with writing that particular fic. And you know I recently discovered The Five Minute Adventures!!!

I suppose I'll ask about Rena Rouge: Secret Keeper, because I feel like that one would be very relevant to the current season (which I still haven't watched, just have had spoilers). So, what's the dynamic there?

Ahhh! Thank you! I love Restorative Justice, too!! The next chapter is kinda a monster both in content and size. I thought about breaking it apart, but so far I haven't found a good place to do that. But that's part of the problem in terms of an update. The other part, being what I already said - just having a hard time channeling the restorative circle experience when I haven't done one is so long! Haha!

...

Rena Rouge: Secret Keeper Preview (I couldn't choose between these two scenes, so you get both):

“Marinette, why didn’t you just tell him? I totally love that you have trusted me, but why did you never trust Chat?”

“I want to! I almost did! But it would be a selfish decision. He and I cannot know each other until Hawkmoth is defeated.”

“But why? Seems so arbitrary.”

“Yeah…” and she shook.

Alya held her as she cried. “There’s more to this than you just following the rules, isn’t there?”

Marinette nodded tearfully. “There was another timeline. He knew who I was. We were in love. Or that’s what he said, anyway. But… he was akumatized. And Chat Blanc destroyed the world. He said that it was our love that caused it to end. Bunnyx said he couldn’t know who I was. Not yet.”

“Not yet?” Alya questioned. “Maybe it’s okay now?”

“I don’t have some metric! The only thing I know is that he can’t be akumatized! So I have to wait until the risk of akumatization is over!”

Alya was quiet, uncertain what to say.

“I almost told him anyway, Alya. I’ve hurt him so badly. He’s never going to forgive me! I don’t know how to do this without him, but I didn’t know how to convince him to stay. And now it doesn’t matter because I don’t know who he is! And I’m never going to see him again!”

Marinette crumpled into tears. And Alya rocked her but her mind was already awhirl. Marinette has seen the end of the world? Alya hugged her tighter.

“You’ll see him again,” Alya promised.

“How?”

“His kwami knows who he is right?”

“They all do! But they can’t tell anyone!”

Alya looked over at Trixx who nodded in confirmation.

“Can they give hints?”

Trixx shook her head.

“It doesn’t matter, Alya! I can’t know who he is either!”

“But what if you weren’t the one to know?”

“What?”

“What if I knew Chat’s identity? It keeps you from knowing each other but helps us coordinate. We could include him in the planning! I could help support him like I do for you!”

Marinette was staring. “I… I don’t know all the details. But yes, anything, please! But you have to never slip, Alya. You can’t tell me who he is. You can’t hint! You may have to lie to me to protect him!”

“I understand.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve already lied to Nino you know… to protect you.”

Marinette slumped. “I’m sorry.”

Alya shrugged. “It’s part of being a superhero, and I know Nino would be okay with it if I could tell him the reasons, and I knew it had to happen to protect you because you protect the whole city. I understand the stakes! And I’m telling you, that I can do this.”

Marinette crashed into her abdomen, her arms circling around Alya.

“You are the bestest best friend in the whole world!”

Alya laughed. “I don’t know if I would go that far.”

“I would,” Marinette mumbled. “So how are you going to find him?”

Alya opened her mouth.

“No wait! Don’t tell me! I shouldn’t know!"

...

“Chat, Ladybug needs you to come back.”

“Then why are you here?” He ran his hands through his hair. “If I’m so important to her, why did she send you?”

“Because she’s still convinced you can’t know each other’s identities.”

He throws his hands up in frustration or something. “I don’t understand what’s so different that you can know and I cannot? I know she says she trusts me, but her actions say something different. And I’m not sure what I did that she found so unworthy of trust—“

“It’s nothing you did!” Alya interjected.

“— but I didn’t take myself off the team because I think I have the right to know. It’s putting us all - her and me and you - in danger when we’re not on the same page!”

“I agree completely!”

He glared unhappily at her for a moment, then his eyebrows furrowed together.

“She wants to know, Adrien. And she wants you to know who she is, too! I promise you, she does!”

“She has a funny way of showing it.”

“She spent the last few hours bawling her eyes out about how much she’s hurt you and that you’ll never ever forgive her. And that it doesn’t matter because she’s never going to see you again.”

He sighed and dropped his head. “I’m sorry, Rena. I can’t come back. I’m a danger to her and to the whole team because we can’t communicate.”

“I agree completely,” she said. “Which is why I’m here! Will you let me explain?”

“Yeah, sure,” he said, his voice the calmest it had been since she had arrived. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to take my frustration out on you. What did you come here to tell me?”

“Ladybug trusts you more than anyone. More than me.”

“But—“

“More than anyone!” she insisted. “Apparently she did trust you. You both knew each other’s identities at some point.”

“I don’t remember that.”

“I know you don’t. She doesn’t really either. But she saw what it led to. Bunnyx… you know who Bunnyx is right?”

He nodded.

“Bunnyx came and got her and took her to a future where the world had been destroyed. Bunnyx told her the inciting event was you two learning each other’s identities.”

“Why did she never tell me this?”

“She’s never been one to share burdens.”

He winced.

“She didn’t plan to tell me her identity either, you know. She just had a mental breakdown and I happened to be there. I imagine being a full time super hero when no one knows, wears you down.”

He snorted. “Understatement.”

“When she was spiraling, I convinced her that we could find some kind of loophole. Show you that she does trust you. She’s only trying to protect you, Paris, and apparently the future. I figured I could know both your identities, and act as a go between. That way you’ll always be in the know.”

“That only works if I know who you are, too.”

“I’ll drop the transformation as soon as you agree, Kit Kat.”

He stared at her for awhile. “I will want to talk to Ladybug about all this.”

“Obviously.”

“Okay then.” He put the ring back on.

“Will you stop renouncing me every time you have a bad day?!” Plagg screeched at him.

“I’ve only renounced you twice,” Adrien being surly.

“Twice too many! And there was a third time you threatened to do so.”

“You’ve given up the ring before?”

“Ugh! I don’t want to talk about it. Are you going to drop your transformation or not?”

“Trixx, let’s rest.”

“Alya?”

“Hi, Adrien. I swear I didn’t know you were hurting this much. I’m sorry I’ve been so blind as your friend.”

“It’s fine,” he shrugged it off. “I never told you anything was going on... Wait! If you’re Rena. That means Carapace is…”

She waved him forward. She wasn’t sure what she was allowed to say, but if he figured it out himself, it wasn’t her fault.

“Carapace is Nino,” he concluded. “Isn’t it weird that practically all the holders are in our class?”

“The same class where literally everyone except you has been akumatized?” She was proud of herself for delivering that line with a straight face. And felt guilty that she was already misleading him. But wasn’t that what she signed up for? To keep both Ladybug and Chat Noir on the same page while misdirecting them from each other?

Which was going to be way harder than she thought because they were together like all of the time. They saw each other every single day almost! They sat like half a meter apart in class! How had they not already figured each other out?

Some of this must have shown on her face because Plagg was laughing his head off at her. “Welcome to my world, kit,” the black kwami said.

She sighed. She definitely had her work cut out for her.

#miraculous ladybug fanfiction #alya cesaire #fic preview #ask games #ask answered #ask me anything #Rena Rouge: Secret Keeper #My own content

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miss-tc-nova · 3 years

Text

Five More Minutes - Eraqus x Reader

Hey, you guys remember the Five More Minutes - Brain x Reader story? Well thanks to a CERTAIN SOMEONE, the character for the prompt changed from Eraqus to Brain because Nova is a petty bitch.

And AT LEAST ONE OF YOU UNDERSTANDS THAT! THANK YOU!

However, I’ve been thinking about this WIP for a while and I put myself out there, so I’ll kinda forgive ffm-non’s heinous crime for now and post Five More Minutes with Eraqus.

Music Inspiration: Hikari (Godson Remix) by Hikaru Utada

~~~~~

Rushing through the streets of Scala, I bob and weave between unsuspecting citizens on my way to the theater. Today’s the day—hopefully. I’ve spent the last week trying to get a ticket for this show but it’s been sold out every day. Both my saving grace and the bane of my existence is that they aren’t pre-selling tickets, so it’s first come first serve for who gets to see the show.

I’m heaving like I just ran halfway across the city—because I did—but I finally make it to the theater. Unlike the last few days, I find myself in luck at the sight of the relatively short line. With excitement bubbling in my chest, I race to join the queue.

Just as I reach the line, something jumps in my way. I garner the embarrassing attention of several people in the vicinity as I topple to the ground, taking the obstacle down with me.

Hastily, I pull my face from the white fabric.

“Oh gods! I’m so sorry!” I say, scrambling my feet and taking the strangers hand to pull him up. “Are you okay?! Did I hurt you?!”

Suddenly, I hear my name and finally get a look at the young man I’d practically tackled. I know him. While my family does not follow the noble keyblade warrior tradition like his, our magic has been revered so our families have been amicable for years. At least once or twice our year, our families get together for dinner and we almost always see each other at events for the more affluent people in the city.

“Eraqus?”

A beaming smile crosses his lips. “Hey! What’s up!”

Heat surges into my ears. While I’ve been forced to be within proximity of this boy for years, I’ve never been caught alone with him before. He’s certainly cute and, while our parents may not think so, I find him kind of funny. Still, while I kind of know him, because of our families’ differences we’ve never actually been friends.

“Uh, not much. I was just trying to get in line for tonight’s show. But seriously, I didn’t see you. Are you okay?”

This kid’s laugh stirs something in my chest.

“Yeah, I’m good. My friends hit me harder than that in training.”

The sheer happiness rolling off him is distracting. “I…I don’t think that’s a good thing.”

“Nah, it’s alright; we make each other stronger.” His eyes glance away. “So, I guess you wanted to see this show too?” An arm gestures to the moving line that we scoot along with.

“Yeah. I’ve been trying to see it the last few days, but it’s been sold out. What about you? I wouldn’t have guessed theater to be something you enjoy?”

He folds his arms. “Mmm, I like some of them, but my friends really wanted to see this one.”

I take a moment to take in our surroundings. “Um, what friends?”

His cheer is bright and captivating, but even the defeated frown it morphs into is somehow endearing.

“Nobody wanted to come early to wait in line, but we probably wouldn’t get tickets if we came on time.”

I nod, understanding the dilemma.

“So Bragi suggested rock-paper-scissor.”

Now it all makes sense. “And you lost, so now you’re here to buy tickets for everyone.”

“Yeah…” His pouting is so cute.

A small giggle escapes me. “So it’s sheer coincidence I happen to literally run into you today?”

That smile’s back. “Or! We could call it luck.”

“I would assume bad luck; you lost a game of chance and I literally ran into you.”

“Details.”

And so we keep each other company. The more I talk to the boy, the more I can confirm how fucking adorable he is. His smile is infectious and I find myself hanging on every word, no matter how wild the tale is. I can barely even drag my gaze away long enough to take a few steps before I’m staring at his beautiful face again. Before long, I can already tell I’m head over heels for him. Even after tickets are purchased, we find a bench nearby to continue our chat.

It only ends when someone calls his name. There’s a small herd of people making their way closer.

Getting to his feet, Eraqus greets his friends. “Hey guys, what’re you doin’ here early?”

“Early?” snorts the girl with silver hair. “The show starts in twenty minutes.” Her golden eyes catch sight of me. “Who’s this?”

I wave to Baldr and Hermod, both of whom I know from similar family social events. They do the honor of introducing me to the gaggle, which is both a bit lighthearted and overwhelming. They seem like a great group of friends to have, despite their differences.

“It was good to see you again,” Hermod says, leading the mass towards the entrance. “But we’d better take our seats before the show starts.”

“You got the tickets, right Eraqus?” Xehanort asks.

“Right here.” He pushes all but one into his friend’s hand before turning to me. “Which seat are you in?”

I look at my stub. “E7.” The look on his face is disappointment. “Where are you at?”

“N24,” he mutters. That’s literally on the other side of the theater from where I am and I find myself similarly disappointed with the arrangement.

“Guess I’ll have to get your opinions on the show some other time,” I say, trying to make the blow a little softer.

Our eyes meet and I feel myself being drawn in.

“Maybe we could meet up at that little café around the corner?” he asks.

“The one with the fancy s’mores?”

“Yeah! That one!”

Eraqus detours the conversation with a tale about the time he and went there with his friends and one of them ended up spilling a drink on everyone—pretty sure it was Eraqus by the way he kept switching names. Nevertheless, I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Eraqus, the show’s about to start!” I don’t even know which one it was that yelled at him.

“’Kay! Just gimme five more minutes!”

Excited chitchat continues, following tangent after tangent and never with a lull. I could continue on like this for ages, happy to spend hours in his presence, enamored by the boy I never really knew.

I drag my hands down my face. “And then, because I stupidly thought things couldn’t get any worse, I tried to use a fire spell to dry him off and set him on fire.”

Eraqus is laughing so hard he’s crying. “Wait wait wait! I remember Hermod came to school with a huge hole in his jacket! Was that you?!” I nod in sheepish shame. “Oh my gods! We thought he got mugged or something! He wouldn’t tell us what happened!”

“Every time our families get together, our parents won’t let us live it down. Mine won’t even let me join them anymore without asking me to ‘please not light their colleague’s kids on fire.’”

“And here I thought you were the smart, cool type,” he teases.

“As much as I’d love to be, I’m actually a total mess.”

“That’s okay; I am too.”

“Oh really? I always thought you were laid back and easy going. With our families’ prestige, I was always kind of jealous of how calm you are about everything.”

“Then you have clearly never seen me wake up late for class.”

The laughing between us dies down, but before I can make another comment, I realize that he’s watching me. This isn’t watching like two people waiting for cues in a conversation, but watching as if he’s looking for something very specific.

Beneath his scrutiny, my brain starts to malfunction, causing my ability to speak to take a hit. “Um, I…I’m pretty sure anyone would…would panic if they woke up late for class.”

“I guess.” The softness suddenly introduced into his voice feels like an arrow through the heart. “But it’s probably not the same when it’s a weekly occurrence.”

Is he leaning in?

“No…I guess not…”

He is—he is very much leaning in.

“Eraqus.” I can’t even speak above a whisper.

“Hmm?”

My heart is pounding in my ears, trying desperately to drown out my thoughts.

“I think our show’s started,” I breathe.

“Five more minutes,” he murmurs against my lips.

Not a single protest is heard from me. No, I’m too preoccupied with electricity coursing through my veins. For a moment, Eraqus leads the way, soft and slow, likely assessing my shock. Honestly, I’m not entirely sure what my reaction should be, but my body tells me to just see where this goes. And with each passing second, I’m falling down the rabbit hole with him.

The world suddenly jars to when the source of my euphoria breaks away. His brows pinch together, concern written across his face.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, his voice wracked with uncertainty. “I thought—”

Without asking my head for permission, my hands snag his haori.

“Five more minutes,” I say softy.

Our lips connect again and, though I’m prepared for the jolt, I still feel the weight of the world disappear around us. This time, I lead, hoping my confidence sends the right idea to the young man. I think he gets it, happily matching my every move. His little sighs cause my stomach to squirm, making self-control difficult. But there will be plenty of time for the rest later, for now, I want to take my time and get a grasp on how his lips feel against mine.

I pull away, using a deep breath the calm my racing heart and ground me back in reality. Eraqus, too, breathes a little heavier, and yet he continues watching me as if he’s still fully enraptured. That look is hypnotizing, subtly—easily—luring me in again.

That quickly goes out the window.

“Eraqus!”

Flinching, he whirls back, where his entire group of friends is standing with mixed expression. My blood freezes.

“What?!” he shouts back.

“Are you comin’ back to the dorms with us or not?” Urd demands.

My eyes dart to the sky. It was dark when the show started, but the moon sat higher among the stars than it had moments ago—or what I thought was only moments ago.

Eraqus’s gaze flips back and forth between me and them. “Did…Did we miss the whole show?!”

“Yes, you dingus!”

Hermod gives a soft smile. “C’mon guys, give him a break.”

The red-head, Bragi, snickers. “Yeah, the kid’s only been dreaming of this moment his whole life.”

My mouth falls open but I can just see Eraqus’s face burning brightly.

“BRAGI!”

“Oops.” The offender grins unabashedly. “My bad.”

Xehanort folds his arms, smirking. “Ooooh, so this is that cute little mage he’s been crushing on.”

“You mean that one he always talks about after he visits his family?” Her tone is full of innocence, but the grin on the little blonde’s face is pure evil.

Oh my gods, I might implode.

“YOU GUYS!”

“What was it he said last time?” Urd asks, also basking in Eraqus’s flustering.

Baldr answers, “I believe it was something along the lines of ‘I would give up naps for an entire year if the gods would just let me have a single—‘”

“I’LL DO EVERYONE’S HOMEWORK FOR A MONTH IF YOU JUST GO AWAY!” Eraqus yells, waving his arms as if he might fly away from this mess.

Hermod begins ushering everyone away. “Seriously, guys, let’s go.”

“Wait! I don’t want him doing my homework!” Bragi protests. “He’s failing like half our classes!”

Glancing back with one last devious look, Xehanort responds, “Let him have his moment; we’ll just make him do something else later.” The expression softens when he gives me a genuine wink.

Finally, after instigating all the butterflies in my stomach to the point I might vomit sparkles, they leave. We sit in suffocating silence for an awkward moment. Then, one of the butterflies must’ve escaped into my brain when I suddenly crack a laugh.

“An entire year without naps, huh?”

Still cherry red, he looks at me, mortified.

His floundering gives me the bit of confidence I need to close the gap once again. “And what was it you so desperately begged the gods for?”

Eraqus’s back meets the wall, but he still puts on a smile, even if it is bashful. “Let’s just say I’ve already lost my napping privileges for the year.”

“Yeah? So if the gods were to grace you a second time, would that be two years without naps?”

His nerves seem to melt and those stunning gray eyes glitter in the moon as he watches me. “You gonna stick around and find out?”

“How long were you thinking?” I slip my arms around his neck, unable to stop myself from twirling a strand of ebony hair between my fingers.

“Oh at least five more minutes.”

“Just five?”

He feigns mulling it over in head. “And maybe five more after that.”

#Eraqus #Young Eraqus #eraqus x reader #young eraqus x reader #gender neutral reader #influence my story #fmm-non

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rafej-cambanks · 4 years

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Outer Banks

Masterlist

Welcome to my OBX Masterlist. There are more fics coming in my WIPs, as well as many Rafe/JJ blurbs.

Please read my request guidelines before sending in asks

* anything marked ☼ [mature] is likely to have a mature theme or some type of mature content/language without explicit smut. please read at your own discretion [18+ advised].

Requests | Taglist | Prompt List A | Prompt List B | Asks

fluff - ❀ | angst - ✩ | smut [18+] - ❤ | mature* - ☼

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One-shots:

Camping Concupiscence (Rafe Cameron x reader) ✩☼

Valentine’s Day (JJ Maybank x reader) ❀

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Series:

Complicated (Rafe Cameron x reader, JJ Maybank x reader) ✩❀☼

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

Part Ten

Epilogue

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Blurbs:

JJ Maybank - #2a & #46a ❀

“Go for it, babe.”

“Why is it always you?”

JJ Maybank - #31b & #64b ☼

“We’re more than just friends and you know it.”

“Sorry babe, you’re stuck with me.”

JJ Maybank - #86b ❀

“So... do you wanna make out or something?

JJ Maybank - #106b & #125b ☼

“Why is this so hard?”

“Your pants look a little tight there, buddy!”

JJ Maybank - #115b ☼

“Is it hot in here, or is it just you?”

Rafe Cameron - #2b & #101b ✩

“Is that my shirt?”

“I love waking up next to you.”

Rafe Cameron - #37b & #43b

“Woah, when did you get so hot?”

“I didn’t know you were into this sort of thing.”

Rafe Cameron - #49b & #57b ☼

“That’s ambitious.”

“Two can play at that game.”

Rafe Cameron - #97b & #105b

“Okay, so I may be a little drunk and I think I just realized that I’m in love with you so call me back when you get this.”

“I love waking up next to you.”

Rafe Cameron - #116b & # 125b ☼

“There is no way in hell you’re leaving the house wearing that...”

“Your pants are looking a little tight there, buddy.”

Rafe Cameron - #122b & #147b ✩

“I didn’t realize we were on speaking terms.”

“What can I do to make you forgive me?”

Please feel free to send suggestions from Prompt List A and/or Prompt List B!

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Concepts:

JJ Maybank & Rafe Cameron - Nose Piercings OBX vs Teen Wolf - This or That

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Add yourself to my taglist!

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#masterlist #rafej-cambanks #obx imagines #outer banks imagines #obx #outer banks #teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #tw #tw imagines

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the-lonelybarricade · 3 years

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Fic Writer Tag

Tagged by @arrowmusings and @thehaemanthus, thank you so much you gorgeous souls! <3

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count?

68,323

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Under this psuedonym, just acotar.

But back in my in my fanfiction days I wrote fics for The Mortal Instruments and Vampire Acadmey

4. What are your top 5 five by kudos?

A Court of Faded Dreams

I've Been Looking For You

The Rumor of St. Petersburg

The Outlier

Prologue: Once Upon A Time

5. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Yes, as soon as I can get to it! I am so grateful for any interaction with my stories and I love talking with people about the content. I don't ever want people's involvement with my fics to go unnoticed/unacknowledged. And now this is going to encourage me to go back through my fics and make sure I've actually responded to all of the comments people have left lol.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

As far as my acotar content, everything has been quite angst-free ending wise.

There was a Vampire Academy fic that I abandoned where Rose was kidnapped by strigoi and I never updated so guess that's the angstiest lmao please forgive me I was 14

7. Do you write crossovers?

I guess my Rumor of St. Petersburg fic counts as a crossover? I'm not entirely sure what warrents one, but I'm not opposed to writing them. :)

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not yet, everyone has been so lovely and supportive so far!

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

I haven't put out any content that is smut for smut's sake, but things will be getting frisky in ACoFD eventually :)

Also I'm not opposed to writing smut for smut's sake. Last summer I wrote smut for people on fiverr for a little extra income and that was some wild times.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but if anyone ever expressed interest I wouldn't be opposed.

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

I have, but only ever for fun with friends. Nothing I've ever put out to be read by others.

13. What is your all time favorite ship?

For an excessively long time it was Herongraystairs. That love triangle just broke my heart. Now Feysand is definitely up there too. <3

Also I LOVE the Mark/Christina/Kieran ship from TDA because canon poly ships are just underreprented methinks. It's everything.

Also queer representaion will just always make me happy.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

This is a tricky question because I've just started producing acotar content. I hope I finish all of my WIPs. The biggest struggle will probably be the ACoFD sequel. I've been trying to work on it but have been feeling very uninspired. And I'll be starting Uni in a week so my free time will be significantly cut down.

15. What are your writing strengths?

This

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Describing scenary is sooo tough for me. Maybe it's the adhd, but I'm the kind of person who is always tempted to skip over long descriptive paragraphs of scenary because I just find it so... boring? And I feel the same way in my own writing.

It's either that or focus. Having unmedicated adhd is a struggle and unless I'm hyperfocused on the scene at hand, I'll usually be switching tabs every few paragraphs to scroll through tumblr.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Yeah, I enjoy it! I love stories that focus on different cultures/histories/etc outside of the Western world. Of course, as long as it's done correctly and with respect for those cultures.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Vampire Academy. I was obsessed.

19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve ever written?

A Court of Faded Dreams is currently my baby. <3

Tagging my lovely fic-writing mutuals who haven't been tagged yet (I'm so sorry if I miss out on anyone!!) @feybaenc @highladysith @slutsofren @rhysandswingspan @a-court-of-milkandhoney @loverofdemoncorns @thebonecarver and anyone else who wants to answer! :)

#If I missed you im so sorry #but also send me your fics I'd love to read them #this is your official permission to tag me in ALL your fics

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mosiee · 3 years

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Writing Challenge: Week 1

From @newsies-square-discord post

Inspiration: How is this my fault?

Pairing: Jack/David; platonic or romantic you decide

This is actually part of a WIP that will most likely never see the light of day so might as well post it here

“You died, David. The doctor told me yer heart stopped during the surgery. They said for almost three minutes— three minutes your heart wasn’t beating and the only reason you were still breathing is because they had a mask over yer face… and that’s on me.”

“Jack—”

“Don’t tell me it’s not. It was my idea to go to that place, it was my fault that you got so hurt, it was my fault that— that you…”

Whatever emotion David was feeling at that moment was replaced with anger. His hands went to his sides, and he shook his head and laughed bitterly.

“You’re really fucking stupid, do you know that?”

Jack looked at him, surprise and confusion on his face.

“Did you stay up thinking How is this my fault? I know I didn’t imagine telling you once already that it wasn’t your fault. Were you just ignoring me when I said that? You know, it wasn’t the ideal day, but was it a bad one? I don’t think so. There was a lot of really cool and interesting things there that I’m glad I saw, and I’m glad I got to be there with you guys. Did I get hurt? Yeah I did, but do I blame you for it? I absolutely do not.”

“David—”

“Shut up. It wasn’t your fault for what happened. I went on my own volition so anything that happened to me is on me. I mean— fuck, Jack, not everything is going to turn out ideal. Not every day is going to be a good day, not everything’s going to go in your favor. You don’t control fate. You don’t need to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.” David huffed out a breath.

“But even saying all that, you still think it’s your fault, right? Okay. It was your fault, and I know— I know you’re more sorry than you’ve ever been. So, I forgive you. You got us out of there, got me out of there. You got me to a hospital. You were the one I woke up to in my room. You stayed and made sure I was okay. I know you probably chased the others out because you care about them, probably told them to go get some sleep while you stayed with me.

“Please— Jack, please just listen to me when I say I don’t blame you for what happened, and I would never put blame on you for something that happens when it’s out of your control.”

Jack was silent. He’d never seen David like that. The heat of his words where just barely sinking in.

“I do blame you for ignoring my texts though.” David continued, a humorous snort leaving his nose. “Responding to Les in seconds but not giving me the time of day. But… that’s all forgiven. So just— can we get back to normal? Please?”

Jack inhaled a shuttering breath and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah we can do that.”

“Good.” David huffed out and sat on Jack’s bed. “I don’t know how Spot does it.”

“Does what?”

“Be mad all the time. Anger is tiring. Like— five minutes of it and I’m ready to pass out.”

Jack snorted. “Spot’s had years of practice. I think height has somethin to do with it too; his brain’s closer to hell than yers is. Also explains why he’s a hothead.”

#newsies-square-discord #newsies square writing challenge #newsies #92sies #newsies live #david jacobs #jack kelly #this is from a ghost thing au #or something #I dunno what the plot is anymore #but WHOA have some angst #mos rants #Mos writes #mos’s WIPs #text #mos’s writing

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mandowh0re · 4 years

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Peter’s Emergency Contact

Summary: Peter meets the Avengers. It doesn’t go well.

A/N: I’m a terrible person tell me to finish my wips. Also I’m sorry about May :(

P.s. it’s been a long time since I picked this fic up so there are some continuum issues, please forgive me.

Part1/ Part2/ Part3/ Part 4

Part 4

Putting it mildly, Peter was fucking bored. It was summer, but both Ned and MJ were on vacation with their families. And on top of that, it was way too hot to go out and do anything, including patrol. He was, however, on stand by if Karen came through with anything that required Spider-Man’s assistance.

A few floors down, the ex-Rogue Avengers were doing god knows what. They had been pardoned a month earlier and moved back into the tower. Peter had yet to meet them, though Tony seemed okay with them. But Peter didn’t really trust them.

Well, okay. He more-so didn’t trust Steve. Even though the others fought against Tony too, it was Steve that scared Tony. Peter noticed minute things that Tony would do whenever the Captain was mentioned. He’d fidget, or grab his left wrist, or rub his chest, or bite the inside of his cheek. Mostly stuff that would fly past most people.

But Peter wasn’t ‘most people’. Officially, Peter was Tony’s child. After a car accident killed May about eight months prior, Tony legally adopted Peter. Since then, Peter has learned all of Tony’s tells. Wanting to get to the bottom of these anxious ticks, Peter hacked his way around FRIDAY’s systems to figure out what had happened.

Peter wasn’t one to give into rage, but that day he spent a majority of his time in the gym or swinging through the city because he was basically vibrating from the emotion.

But they lived in the same tower, and maybe Peter was desperate for something to do, so he decided to head down to the common room where FRIDAY had informed him that a few of the Avengers were hanging out.

The elevator dinged and Peter walked out to the sight of… Christmas decorations?

“What the…” He breathed, looking around the room.

“You’re not Stark,” Natasha said, suddenly appearing in front of Peter.

Peter had to literally fight down his fanboy excitement to greet the literal Black Widow!

“Uh, no. I mean, technically I am but-”

“You’re Peter, right?” Was that a smirk? Peter couldn't tell.

“Uh, y-yeah. How-?”

“I have my ways of finding things out,” Okay, now that was a smile, “I haven’t told anyone though. So you’ll have to introduce yourself to them.” She said as she tossed her head to the side, motioning to the others on the floor.

“Oh, right.”

Peter followed Natasha farther into the room, gaining the attention of the rest of the crew including Wanda Maximoff, Vision (who Peter had actually met before), Clint Barton, Sam Wilson, and Bruce (who Peter had also met before as he and Thor showed up about two months after May’s death).

“Uh, who’s the child, Nat?” Clint asked, sitting on the kitchen island.

Natasha looked at Peter, who began picking at the hem of his shirt. A nervous tick of his own.

“Uh, hi, Mister Barton. I’m Peter. Uh, Peter Parker. Or, Peter Parker-Stark now I guess? I’m-”

“Wait, excuse me, Parker-Stark? Since when the hell did Stark have a child?” Sam cut in.

“Let him finish,” Wanda berated the man, who seemed to currently be baking cookies, “Go on,” She said to the other teenager in the room, smiling kindly.

“Right, so uh, Tony hired me as his personal intern like two years ago, and we got pretty close. My aunt died last December and since she was my last family, Tony took me in and adopted me.” Immediately after mentioning his aunt’s death, almost everyone in the room looked at him with pity.

“I’m sorry kid,” That was Clint again, “Life sucks sometimes.”

“I’m adjusting,” Peter replied, but he quickly changed the subject, “Why are you decorating for Christmas? It’s almost a hundred degrees outside, not to mention it’s July.”

“Ah, that was my idea!” Sam called from the kitchen where he was currently pulling cookies out of the oven, “Since we’re on house arrest until further notice, I thought we could entertain ourselves with Christmas in July. It’s something we used to do when I was younger.”

“Oh, that sounds fun!”

“You’re welcome to join, kid.” Bruce called from his spot on the couch.

“Really? Thanks guys!” Peter jumped onto a seat at the island.

“Have a cookie, man.” Sam said, holding out a plate of santa shaped sugar cookies.

“Aw sweet!” The boy grabbed one and took a bite, “Thanks!”

About fifteen minutes passed by when Peter’s senses upped a few notches.

“Any cookies left, Sam?”

Peter nearly choked on his current cookie and jumped up to see Steve Rogers walking out of the elevator.

“Yep, a few plates full. There’s sugar, gingerbread, and chocolate chip.”

A few seconds passed before the super soldier noticed Peter.

“Um, hello. I’m Steve, you are?” He offered a hand for Peter to shake.

Peter tried to respond, but the room suddenly began spinning. He gripped onto the counter to steady himself.

“Son?” Steve asked.

“Don’ call me tha’,” Peter tried to glare, but he wasn’t even sure he was controlling his face properly.

Out of nowhere his legs gave out, and black began overtaking his vision.

A chorus of exclamations rang out as everyone ran over to tend to the boy. Fortunately and unfortunately, Steve was the closest and was the one to grab Peter before he hit the ground.

“No! Let me go!” He struggled against Steve’s arms to no avail.

“Calm down, son, I’m just-”

“What happened?” Bruce asked, feeling for Peter’s pulse.

“He just collapsed.” Sam answered.

Then Peter began seizing.

“Fuck, Sam, start a timer to time the seizure. Steve, pick him up and bring him to the medbay with me. Natasha, call Tony.”

“Why are we calling Tony?” Steve asked, following Bruce into the elevator.

It was silent for a moment where Bruce and Nat exchanged glances before Bruce answered, “He’s Tony’s kid.”

“Since when-”

“Later Steve. One thing at a time.”

***

“This better be important. Like, life or death because you pulled me out of a meeting and Pepper-”

“Shut up, Stark. Something is wrong with Peter.”

Tony was quiet for a moment before growling back, “Explain, Romanoff. Now.”

“I don’t know, Tony. He came down and introduced himself and was hanging out with us when he just collapsed and started seizing. We’re taking him to the medbay now-”

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. I’m in DC. I’ll have to come back with the suit but it’ll still take me an hour.”

“What do you want me to-”

“Do not let him out of your sight, Nat. I don’t want him waking up alone and you and Bruce are the only two I trust enough to watch him. Keep me updated, I’ll let you know when I’m there.”

“Got it.”

***

“He’s showing symptoms of anaphylactic shock,” Bruce said to the other two occupants after injecting Peter with an anticonvulsant, “ FRIDAY, is Peter allergic to anything? Override code six one three three nine seven five.”

“Peter is allergic to peppermint, and as well has severe reactions when in close vicinity to insect repellents.”

“Was there peppermint in Sam’s cookies?”

“One moment, Doctor Banner.” A few seconds passed before the AI came back with an answer, “Mister Wilson has supplied that the sugar cookies had peppermint extract in them.”

“Peter had several of those,” Nat said quietly.

“Okay, okay at least I can work with that. Steve,” Bruce called to the soldier while pulling out an epinephrine pen, “I think it’d be better if you waited with everyone else. Thank you for helping.”

Steve wanted to argue, but he looked at Nat who seemed to agree with Bruce.

“Okay. Let me know if you need anything else.” He offered before walking out the door.

As soon as the door shut behind him Nat spoke, “If Peter hadn’t accidentally poisoned himself I’m pretty sure he would have punched Steve.”

Bruce finished injecting the medicine and pulled the pen away from Peter’s thigh, “He still might.”

Natasha helped Bruce fix an IV drip in Peter’s arm in silence.

“You don’t have to stay, I can watch him until Tony gets here.” Bruce offered.

“He won’t be here for another forty five minutes. Plus, I’m supposed to keep watch. Stark’s orders.”

Bruce nodded in understanding, “His vitals are starting to return to normal. I’ll go update the others.”

“I’ll call Tony.”

***

Peter felt like he’d been hit by a train.

Had he?

Honestly he couldn’t remember what had happened. He opened his eyes to see Tony next to his bed (why was he in the medbay?) talking to someone on the other side of his bed. Soon his ears stopped ringing and he heard another hushed voice. Probably whoever Tony was talking to. Why did Tony look upset?

Peter turned his head to see Steve standing there.

And

What?

Without really having his wits about him yet, Peter jumped up and shoved the man back, pulling and knocking over his IV stand in the process.

“Woah, Pete! Calm down-”

“What? You didn’t get to kill him in Siberia so you thought you’d come and finish the job while I’m out?” Peter practically snarled.

Steve’s eyes blew wide, shock and shame overtaking his features, “Son, I-”

“And stop calling me that!” Peter shoved again, sending the captain into the wall, leaving a sizable crack.

“Peter!” Tony yelled, grabbing at the kid’s arm, “Calm down, bud. He’s not here to hurt me, or you for that matter. Can you please sit back down before you give me another damn heart attack?”

Peter obliged but his eyes never left Steve, who looked to be in too much of shock to really say anything.

“Cap, let the team know he’s awake, will ya?” It really wasn’t a suggestion or a question, more like a thinly veiled disguise to get him out of the room before Peter decided he hadn’t had enough.

Nodding, Steve hightailed it out of the room, but not before looking back at Peter and offering a quick apology.

It was quiet for a few moments, in which time Tony set the IV stand back up and made sure Peter’s IV was still in place. Finally the older man spoke, “Pete, buddy, what was all that about? How do you know what happened in Siberia?”

Peter’s demeanor fell slightly as he came back to himself, “Wasn’t hard to guess.”

“Mhmm. Wanna try again? Maybe with the truth this time?” Tony said as he sat back down next to his kid.

Peter crossed his arms and looked down at the floor.

“I hacked FRIDAY,” He mumbled.

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” Tony asked.

Peter sighed audibly before repeating himself, louder this time, “I hacked FRIDAY.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because you were beat up and withdrawn after we got back from Germany. Which, okay, fine. We weren’t in a place for you to tell me what happened. But then the pardon for them was beginning to go through and every time Steve was even mentioned, you had these reactions like you were nervous or something. And I wanted to know why. I already had a pretty good idea. Then I saw the footage and I just… I don’t want him near you..”

“Peter, buddy. Look at me, please,” Tony gently held the boy’s chin and turned his head so that he looked at Tony, “Thank you for looking out for me. But that’s not your responsibility,”

“Yes it is! I can’t-” His throat catches and a lump forms, tears making their way to the surface, “I’ve lost everyone because I couldn’t protect them. I can’t lose you too.”

Tony pulls Peter in for a hug, and cards his fingers through the kid’s curls, “It’s okay to cry, honey. But I’m not going anywhere. Remember that. The universe will have to personally fight me before I let anything get between us. Understood?” Peter nodded slightly, but clung to his father’s shirt as he cried.

Eventually Peter fell asleep in Tony’s arms.

“I love you, kid. I’m not going anywhere.” Tony whispered, placing a kiss on top of the curls on his kid’s head.

And yes. Peter did end up punching Captain America. We don’t bring that up.

***

IronDad tag list: @tranquility-or-chaos @a-black-pegasus @do-you-downey @ididntdothatnope @marvelbased @yourwhatisstuckwhere @terriblygoodrockandroll @love-every-fandom @starkaroos2034 @prism-opals @howisavebrainspace @multifandom-slytherin @insaneskyler @starlightfound

Permanent tag list: @a-place-to-blog-marvel-stuff @yes-iamironman-blog @paradoxicalblueberry @the-regal-warrior @transparentparadiseglitterzombie @marvelgem @propertyofmarvel @avngrsinitiative @my-leg-is-not-a-chew-toy @lyricalstella @just-the-daydreamer

!! I’ve removed several urls from my tag list because they don’t work anymore. If you would like to be part of my tag lists please send me a message or an ask!!

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