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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 month

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Follow You Anywhere 7

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: back again.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You enter your apartment. It doesn’t really feel like yours anymore. That man, that gargantuan invader, has tainted your safe space. You keep your head down as you brush by Sy. He reaches to squeeze your wrist and promptly lets you go.

You cringe as you march stiffly down the entryway.

“Thank you, officers,” he says, “sorry to trouble ya like this. You have a good one.”

“You too, sir,” one responds, “hopefully your homecoming gets a bit warmer.”

The door shuts and you flinch. You stop in the living room, shoulders sloped, head down. You can’t stop the shaking. You hear him coming as Aika sits obediently in the corner. You glance at the dog, you don’t think she can help, you don’t know that she would. She’s loyal to her owner.

Sy stalks into the front room as you cower, wring your hands in front of your chest. You can’t bring yourself to look at him. Instead, you watch his shadow as he fumes and paces around. He exhales, small mutters you can’t discern. Circling around and around then suddenly stomping towards you.

You whimper and your eyes flick up as you take a step back, eyes watery with fear. He stops, just an inch away, chest puffing with fury. You bat your lashes as you wait, for what, you don’t know. For him to do something, anything.

“How could you hurt me like that, sweetie?” He hisses.

“I... don’t know--”

“You hide from me. Scare me, like that?” His voice rises, quaking as you hear him struggling to control it, “call the f—the cops?”

He can’t keep his voice from booming. He’s so loud. Like thunder crashing down around you.

“After all I did for you, you treat me like a monster. Actin’ all scared like I’d ever hurt you!” He snarls, “I wouldn’t, sweetie, and you know it. What did I ever do to make you think that, huh?” He starts to pace again, throwing his hands out as he rants, “I told you—I'm not a bad man! I’m not! I wouldn’t hurt you!” He barks as Aika puts her head down, eyes on her own, “but you hurt me. You. Hurt. Me.”

He growls and his nostrils flare as he comes back around it front of you. You peek at him from beneath tear-webbed lashes. Your heart thrums in your ears and your chest thumps. He raises his hand and you wince as he smacks himself in the head. You cry out in horror as he does it again, each time harder than the last as he continues his angry prowl.

“Sy!” You squawk.

He snarls again and beats himself with both hands, “maybe I deserve it, huh? This is what you want. For me to hurt.”

“No, I--” you heave as a sob bubbles up your throat. You don’t like violence. You never wanted this. You just want him gone. To be left alone.

He roars and throws his fist around, hitting the flower lamp off the end table. It flies off and the cord snags, sending it shattering to the floor. You whine and put your knuckles to your lips, horrified as he continues his fit. He grabs the table next, hurling it with one hand as if it weighs nothing. The draw slips out and the continues scatter.

He spins again, puffing and panting, his face red and furious. He storms towards the opposite wall and before you can understand what’s happening, he bashes his face against it. He staggers back, grips his head and blindly stumbles around.

You stand, dumbfounded, as he falls onto the couch. He sits and hangs his head, gripping it between his large hands. He breathes loudly as he leans his elbows on his knees. Your tears spill out as you hug yourself and sniffle.

You babble as you feel something against your leg. You look down as Aika nuzzles against you. You reach down to touch her snout. She licks your palm and you turn your attention back to Sy. You’ve never witnessed anything like that. You never ever wanted to hurt him. You pity him more than anything, he seems so lost.

You suck in a breath and swipe the wetness from your cheeks. You drag your foot forward as Aika stays close. You back up and go through to the kitchen. You take a clean dishcloth from the drawer and wet it under the faucet. You’re buzzing with adrenaline. You don’t know what you’re doing.

You cross the room to Sy as his breaths huff in and out. You can see the blood on his forehead as he nears. You hesitate, furling and unfurling your fingers before you touch his muscled shoulder.

“Sy,” you say softly.

He ignores you, fingertips curling into his skull, “so stupid...” you make out the words under his breath.

You squeeze him as Aika pokes her head under his arms and noses him from below. He sits up and scratches her head. He wobbles as his foggy eyes come into focus. He looks at you, a gash on his forehead and another across the bridge of his nose. You try not to react as you offer the wet cloth.

He considers it and takes it with a sigh. He dabs at the blood on his face as he watches you. You bring your palms together, rubbing them nervously, as you bounce on your feet.

“Thanks,” he mutters as Aika nudges his hand for more pets. He looks between you and the dog, “I-- I’m sorry. I let you down. Both of you.”

He stands up and you back away, folding your hands over your chest as you make yourself small. He holds the cloth against his nose and grunts. He scowls and turns away. You don’t move as he marches to the bathroom. The door snaps shut just as Aika reaches it. You hear the lock click.

You bite your lip and slowly glance towards the entry way. You stare. You could try again but to what end. Blair wouldn’t let you back in after you brought that chaos into her world and the police won’t do anything more than blame you again.

Maybe it is your fault. Sy means well...

No, no! He doesn’t belong there. This is your life.

Aika’s paws pad down the hall and she sits by the door. She knows what you’re thinking it seems. Doesn’t matter, you have nowhere to go and no one to go to.

You pivot carefully, searching for a distraction. What can you do now? You’re too addled to sit down and work or even hide away in the bedroom under the covers. You walk a circle around the room and stop yourself. You look at the wall, a smear of blood and a dent left by his collision.

You return to the kitchen and grab a paper towel. You come back to wipe away blood. When you get most of it out, you start to clean up the rest of the mess. The lamp is broken. You put the shards in a box and leave it by the door. Then you gather up the random pens and notebook and right the table before tucking it all back in the drawer.

As you stand up, you hear another click. You peer over as Sy appears. His shirt is gone. The cuts on his face are no longer bleeding but his eyes are still blazing. You gulp as his jaw tenses.

“I’m sorry I broke your lamp,” he utters dully.

You wet your lips with your tongue, “Do you want some tylenol?”

His eyebrows arch and his cheek ticks. He nods slowly, “yes, sweetie.”

You try to smile and your mouth quivers. You retreat and go to fetch the bottle of pills and some water. When you come back, he’s on the couch again.

“Head sure does hurt,” he says as he accepts the glass and the tablets.

You hum and nod. He throws back the pills and drains half the glass. He set the cup down and leans back, once more holding his head.

“Do you think... maybe you should see a doctor?” You suggest.

“I’m fine,” he growls, “got worse over in the sh—in the war.”

You scrunch up your lips and twiddle your fingers. He drops his hands and brings his head straight. You fidget as he takes you in, his eyes narrow and his expression pained. He waves you closer, “come here.”

You stop moving. You’re completely still as you stare him. His brow lowers dangerously. You near him reluctantly, wary of riling him again.

“I’m sorry I yelled, sweetie,” he takes your hand and leans forward to kiss your knuckles, “I was worked up. I thought—I was crazy. I thought I lost you, you know? But I get it. You wanted to see your friend and she... she put her nose in our business and called in the cops, huh? Jealous, I bet.”

You blanch. That’s not the truth. That isn’t what happened at all. You won’t argue.

“Yeah,” you let him cling to your hand, “I think she was just worried because she didn’t recognise you. I’m... I’m sorry.”

He looks up at you and his lips curve, “I know you’re sorry, sweetie,” he tugs on you, “but we’re all good now, aren’t we? I got you, you got me, everything’s as it should be.”

He moves you and you let him. You know better than to break the illusion again. He angles you onto his lap and your body locks up. He hugs you to him, a hand on your leg, his other arm across your back. He purrs as he holds you close, leaning back as the tension seeps from him.

“Just like this, sug, me and you,” he grits.

🧸

You escape Sy’s embrace for the excuse of making breakfast. The task helps you keep your fears at bay though his presence looms just on the other side of the wall. Your helplessness is starting to feel like acceptance as the last of your denial dissipates. This is real. You are trapped.

You plate up a heaping plate of bacon and eggs. You scrape butter onto toast and bring it out to the table. You teethe your lip as you stand in the archway of the front room.

“Food’s ready, Sy,” you squeak.

He sits up and groans as he stretches. He stands, towering over you as he looks even broader without his shirt. Somehow you keep forgetting how big he really is.

He crosses the room and you scurry back to the kitchen. You hear him pull the chair out as you grab your leftover french toast and bring it out. You’re not very hungry, in fact you feel sick to your stomach. Still, you know you have to play along.

That sound, the one of his head hitting the plaster, keeps replaying in your head. You hate it. As much as he scares you, as much as he’s a stranger, you don’t want to be the reason he’s hurt. You stare at your plate glumly as you cut into the cold eggy bread.

“Thank you, sweetie,” he undercuts your gloom with his bright tone, “sure smells good.”

You glance up, poking at the toast with your fork, “sorry, all I had was turkey bacon.”

“S’all good,” he tears a strip in half and takes a bite.

You muster a smile and drop your gaze back to your food. You take a bite of the stale, syrupy bread. You chew mechanically, bite by bite, and choke it all down. You think of how he might react if you let the food go to waste. He paid for it after all. At least the berries add a bit of flavour.

“You should make a video today,” he says abruptly.

Your eyes flick up and you blink, “oh, uh, maybe not today--”

“Your followers will be wanting to check in, won’t they? You can’t leave them hanging.”

“Um, well, I’ll think about it later---”

“You know, sweetie, like I said, you got me through some tough days. You’re all I had out there. Who knows, maybe there’s others who feel the same, you know?” He scoops up eggs on his fork and hovers them over the plate, “and you’re special. The world needs more of you.”

“Thanks, er, I’m just... tired is all.”

“Well, you wouldn’t be so tired if you hadn’t snuck out to the couch, huh?” He challenges.

You’re surprised by the admonishment. You wince and give a shrug, “yeah, I guess--”

“I could help ya with the video. We could do something fun. Maybe... we could go for a walk with Aika. She loves the wilderness. Specially when there aren’t bombs hidin’.”

You look down guiltily. You don’t blame him for wanting out of his old life. For being so excited to be away from the chaos. And you feel worse because you’ve taken all you have for granted. Each time he talks, he reminds you of your ignorance.

“I guess... that sounds nice,” you sniff.

“Sounds perfect to me,” he swallows his mouthful, “walking around with my girls, showing ‘em off.” He grins, “couldn’t ask for anything more.”

#captaiin syverson #dark captain syverson #dark!captain syverson #captain syverson x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #sandcastle #follow you anywhere

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doll-for-you-11 · 1 month

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Fantasy I can't stop thinking about:

I slip on a short skirt and crop top. I just got rejected and need to get some validation of men stating at my ass. I walk around and take a few different trains in random directions.

Almost every guy ive passed has either blatantly stared, or catcalled and Im feeling better about myself. Ready to go home, I realize I don't know what train Im on, and Ive never been to the station we're approaching.

The train is basically empty. Theres one guy accross from me, but he's ignored me most of the time so I feel fine. I stand to wait at the doors for when we stop. Feeling him stand and get very close. I try to step forward but theres no space. "Theres no running bitch". I freeze unable to get away. I feel his hand on my hip, rising to my chest, groping me as he grinds against me, pressing me to the door.

As we stop I see other people on the platform and sigh hoping he'll stop when the doors open and I can run. As the doors open I try to take a step but am stopped by a hand grabbing my ponytail. Getting dragged off the subway by my hair. My clothes ripped off as Im being degraded and abused. The man that grabbed me loudly saying disgusting, humiliating things as he drags me along like a ragdoll.

By the time he gets me to the middle of the platform, Im naked and sobbing. A crowd gathering around, all the men who have been "working late" and the creeps stalking the subway for new prey.

He throws me to the ground, laughing as I try to crawl away. Wrenching me back again by my hair, as I scream out in pain. Looking around hoping someone will help, but all I see are buldges and hungry eyes.

He wips me around, slapping me, threatening my life if he feels any teeth as he pulls his cock out, shoving it all the way down my throat as I violently gag around him. "Fucking good little whore, take it".

You moan as you wrap your hand in my hair and begin to face fuck me so harshly my lips and throat are bruised before I even run out of breath. Drool and precum pour down my chin, dripping onto my tits turning them into a shiny, sticky mess. You fuck my throat like you're trying to destroy any brain cells I might have left. I feel your hot cum spew down my throat. You hold your cock balls deep telling me to swallow, but I gag, dripping some onto my already dripping tits. You rip your cock out and slap me accross the face, throwing me to the edge of the crowd.

I look up at the man in front of me and he just laughs, kicking me back towards you and following, pulling his belt off as he goes. I feel your hand come from behind me, gripping my throat and pulling me to my knees as the other man binds my wrists with his belt. My mind is still reeling from your raping of my throat, I dont even fight back and you remove your own belt, pushing my face down into the other mans still clothed crotch.

He humps my face, humiliating me as the crowd laughs. He holds my head down as you begin whipping my ass with your belt. Im trying to get away as I scream in pain, but he's too strong. You ask the crowd for a number, someone yells 50 and you tell me to count. It hurts so bad I lose track and you restart again and again and again until my ass is black and blue and my eyes have clouded over from the pain, my tears soaking the mans pants.

He flips me over onto my back, pulling out his hard cock and straddling my head. He slaps me with his cock, his pre cum joining the streaks of mascara on my cheeks before forcing himself down my throat and pushing down with his full weight sitting on my face, grinding his hips as his cock fills my windpipe.

Struggling to breathe I dont notice your belt trailing up my legs until you whip my cunt with it. I jump, forcing his cock impossibly deeper as I choke and panic. You altrinate between my pussy and tits, whipping harder and harder as I writhe, my hands pinned and bound under me, the other man on my face.

He pinches my nose and laughs as I begin to lose consciousness. Just as I'm about to black out he pulls me upright and savagely fucks my throat, pulling out to coat my face in his hot sticky cum. I cough and sputter but before I'm able to catch my breath you're pushing my face into the ground and ramming balls deep into my cunt. Using my hair as a handle you pull me to my knees.

The other man sucking and biting my nipples. Groping my bruised tits hard enough you can see his finger prints. "Look at you, you disgusting cum dump. Your cunt is dripping, theres a fucking puddle under you and you want to act like you didn't want this? That cunt is an open invitation when it drips like that." He slaps me, rubs my clit, slaps me with his cock and fucks my tits all while youre animalistically fucking my dripping pussy.

You join in growling in my ear. "Little bitch thinks it can get on the fucking train wearing a skirt that barely covers its ass and not get used? You that stupid you little whore? Or did you want this? Huh? Was this what you wanted? Get raped and ruined in front of a crowd ? Put on a little show? Yeah?" You fuck me harder and faster, my eyes rolling back as I cum around you harder than I ever have before.

"Did you just fucking cum?" The man abusing my tits asks. "Did you just cum from getting raped? Are you that much of a dirty rape whore?" You pull out throwing me to the ground as the other man pulls me on top of him pushing me down on his cock and thrusting up using my tits as handles to slam me up and down painfully.

You get behind me pulling my hair and whisper in my ear "we're gonna see just how disgusting of a cunt you really are". You ram your cock into my virgin asshole with no preparation besides the slick from my cunt already on your cock, matching the other man in speed as you thrust in and out, your cocks stretching me out like a used fleshlight.

The pain shocks me enough that my jaw drops in a silent scream, my eyes rolling back as my body goes limp. My mind shutting off as I become a living sex doll. You reach around harshly rubbing my clit. I scream as I arch against you cumming, but you keep rubbing my sore oversensitive clit. Making cum non stop over and over. My whole body shaking uncontrollably.

I hear laughter and see other people recording and jacking off. It feels like forever before you both cum and you stop rubbing my clit. Your seed flooding inside of me as you both groan in satisfaction. You pull out and I whine at the feeling before you pull me off of the other man and toss me to the ground.

I can barely open my eyes but I begin to feel something falling on me and look up to see the crowd gathering closer, coating me in cum and piss as I lay broken on the platform.

I feel disgusted with myself, how could I have cum from that? But I can't help but moan as I feel the cum dripping from both holes and the showers of it coating my body. Soon enough I feel more hands on me, I hear men saying what I know are disgusting perverted things but I can't make it out.

The sun is starting to come up by the time they all finish with me. Im too broken to move, but some part of me is okay with it. After all, If I stay here, they'll know where to find me when they want to use me again.

#cnc somno #cnc kidnapping #degradation k1nk #dumb slvt #bd/sm slave #free use slvt #r@pe kink #r@pe fantasy #k!nky thoughts #public r@pe #gang r@pe

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heartfullofleeches · 11 months

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Yan Angel + G.N "Loser" Reader + Yan Demon Harem Blurb

It's been a while since you've been out on your own.

Between an influx of roommates better described as your partners by them and the few friends you had before not a day had gone by without someone hanging off your arm or chatting your precious hours away. Your apartment, once hollow and your fortress of solitude, was now bustling with more life and love than any home you had inhabited in the past. It was pleasant, if not a little overwhelming at times. Sometimes you missed the silent nights - the days when you were alone with nothing but your thoughts to keep you company.

Crawling out of bed and over the bodies that crowded your space, you slip on your shoes and retrieve the spare key tapped to the underside of your desk. As always, your roommates had hidden your main set and thus you hid spares in places they'd like never explored. Creeping towards the front door - the floorboards creak and cry out from the added weight.

"Baby?..."

You still, as if both you - and the shadow had zero knowledge of its heightened vision. The figure yawns, turning back towards your bedroom door.

"Grab me a pack of gum, if you'd like to buy my silence."

With a small nod, you pull your hood overhead and step out into the chilly evening air.

The closest gas station was about a block away; a fair final destination for your first night out alone in weeks. Walking through the vacant streets, it felt like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders - likely because it had. Your roommates were quick to massage out any kinks in your muscles when they were the cause of the majority. Each weighted a ton and loved to cling to you as if they were like as air. Still, you didn't mind it much considering they fixed the problems they caused almost as soon as they caused them. They cleaned up a lot in your life, more than you'd admit to them or risk being smothered to death by finally acknowledging their hard work and care.

"Sorry."

Opening the gas station door, you bump into someone as they exit. The hooded figure either ignores or didn't hear your apology as they quietly sit on the curb, head slumped against their knees.

Ok.... You shrug it off and enter the store, gunning for the isle with the item you set out to obtain. You pick a random pack and head up to the front to check out. The cashier takes a double look at you, straightening the hunch in their back as genuine surprise flashes in their eyes.

"Y/n? That you? Didn't recognize you without those bags under your eyes. You look good - how ya been?"

You check his nametag. Noah had been the closest thing to a friend you had for a while considering you'd see each other almost every night on his shift. "Oh, hey Noah. Not bad, just made some new friends... I guess."

He smiles as he takes the pack of gum. "Never thought I'd see the day, but I'm glad for you. Between you and that last customer - tonight has been full of surprises."

You decide not to question him on that last bit and pay for your items before heading out. The air feels even colder than when you stepped in and you were starting to regret wearing the only hoodie with such a giant hole in its pocket. You cover it as best as you could as you face the direction you came, stride halted by a soft hick from below. That person was still sitting on the side of the road, face covered by their hands as they openly sobbed and sniffled into their hands. It's not your problem to solve. You should really head home.

"Hey, you okay?

The figure turns to look at you. Shit - you intentionally said that low enough so they wouldn't hear. It hugs their knees to their chest, wipping their eyes off on their pants leg. The pants along with their hands and hoodie were stained with a golden, metallic looking fluid. Ew.

"I... ate a hot dog."

You grimace. You completely understand their state of duress now. They were so soft spoken and quiet you almost didn't hear them. Their voice sounded feminine - but not.

"It was the best thing I've had since I've came here. I thought I was doing something good by helping those people, but it's too much for me. I want to go home."

The figure throws their heads in their arms as their eyes leak once more. You could've sworn the same fluid that stained their clothes came from their eyes, but it was probably a trick of the light. You couldn't exactly say you had been in their shoes before, but you felt their pain. Life sucks, and then you die.

The figure jumps as a pack of gum falls on the concrete beside them.

"Buy another and eat it in front of whoever you're talking about. Once you stop caring about how others see you life get better. Not by much, but it's better than nothing. Just make sure you eat a stick of that after your done. From personal experience, hot dog breath isn't the best thing to walk around with. It's spearmint."

"Ah..... w-wait!"

The figure reaches out, but you're already gone. You're not going to hear the end of this by morning, but you're too lazy and out of cash to grab another pack. You head back home and crawl back into bed - unprepared for what the morning had to bring.

"Looks like someone left the house without our say so - again."

Goddamn it. It's not even an hour after dawn.

"You know it's dangerous to go outside alone by yourself, baby. Especially at night. Guess we'll have to remind you of your manners."

As by the grace of God, a knock at the door rings throughout your tiny home before your tattered clothes can be stripped of their remaining fibers. You bolt out of bed and to the door, flinging it open to greet the face of your savior. Instead, you're meet with the designer belt strapped around their waist. You poke your head outside and crane your neck to look up at the gigantic and well dressed figure - a bubble popping between her pale glossed lips as you catch sight of her face

"Y/n!"

The large woman reaches in and pulls you into her bosom, your legs dangling feet off the ground as she snuggles you to her chest. You fight the urge to sneeze as the feathers covering the upper face of her face assault your nose and eyes. As she swings you around like an oversized doll you see a dozen people standing behind her, each carrying more boxes and bags than you can count One, two three, twelve, thirty.... Oh God.

You tear your face from her bust to breath, looking through the wings masking her face for her eyes, but all that does is make your head spin. "Do I know you?"

The woman scoops you into one arm as she covers her mouth in shock, lowering you to the ground and dusting you off as she bows her head.

"I'm so sorry! I was just so excited to finally find you. You'd be surprised how many people have the same first and last name as you in this city. My name is Blythe, we met at the gas station last night. I did everything you told me to do and now I feel like a new woman. I saw the holes in your clothing and so I thought bringing you some new ones would be enough to repay you. It's not much, but I hope you accept my humble offering and maybe my invitation to tea this afternoon? It doesn't have to be tea, I just want to thank my savior in whatever way I can and hopefully become someone you can depend on as well. I'll do whatever I can to make happy."

Your stomach drops as a sickeningly sweet voice comes from behind you.

"Love, who are these people?

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere x you #yandere insert #yandere scenarios #yandere oc #female yandere #yandere blurb #tw yandere #yandere angel #yandere teratophilia #yandere drabble #BLYTHE my oc

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shackleton2 · 9 months

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I'm working on this fic where I'm trying to write an emotionally dark take on post-Winter-Soldier recovery, where Steve & Co capture Soldier-Bucky right after the events of Insight, when he's still almost entirely in the grips of Hydra's programming.

I loved this Sebastian Stan quote someone shared on here: “That’s why he doesn’t kill him. That’s why he saves him. That end scene to me was always like: ‘I don’t know what this is, I just know I’m supposed to do this right now. Whatever this is, I’m supposed to protect this for some reason.” I love the heartbreaking urge to protect Steve being impossible to erase or repress despite everything, but what stands out for me is also that this confirms what his expression and act of walking away seem to say on the riverbank: he has no idea what the hell is going on. His brain didn't go "OMG STEVE" and switch him back over to Bucky Barnes in that incredible final moment on the helicarrier—the wall of programming just got its first tiny crack.

It drives me crazy that the Soldier walks away after saving Steve—he wants to know why he saved him, how he knows him, obviously, but he walks away from the simplest way to find those answers-STAY WITH STEVE, drink hot chocolate under blankets with steve!! It also drives my fangirl heart crazy what a stubborn resilient competent independent SOB post-WS Bucky is. He doesn’t trust anyone and he doesn’t want anyone to own him ever again.

He’s got conflicting lines of thought that lead to the same conclusion: He’s programmed to kill Steve, those are his final standing orders, and obeying orders is all he knows. If he wants to keep Steve safe on some level, he knows that won’t be with him, because of those orders, because Hydra owns him. On the other hand, if he’s realized that Hydra is his enemy, he also knows that SHIELD is Hydra, and Cap is affiliated with SHIELD, and thus can’t be trusted to keep Hydra away from him. And/or he disobeyed orders and abandoned his mission, and he doesn’t know why, but he does know the consequences for doing that, and thus has a lot of resentment for the guy that made him do so.

To be clear, I love the Bucky Barnes character and I think any narrative that casts him as a reformed villain who needs to make up for his past actions is bullshit. He is a victim, not only of what was done to him, but also what he was forced with zero agency to do. Having said that, I’m also totally riveted by the Winter Soldier as a bad guy, a threat, a killer. In the MCU movies he goes off after the Insight debacle and somehow deprograms himself all alone, and the next time we see him in Civil War he’s got his sense of himself as Bucky pretty much back—he’s in control of his actions, he knows his and Steve’s history, and he doesn’t want to hurt people. I’m stuck on what else the story could have been instead of the hand-wave transition from brainwashed murderer to Steve Rogers’ loyal friend. The only traumatic encounters with the Soldier Steve experiences are those in the movie where he’s actively trying to kill him, which that’s definitely bad enough for poor Steve—but what about traumatic emotional encounters? What about Steve Rogers trying to talk and reach his friend, but the person he’s talking to is the Soldier immediately post-Insight, still mentally in Hydra’s possession much more than his own?

Anyway one day this little scene came to me and I'm building this WIP, including these notes, around it. Successfully? Who knows, not me.

He regarded Steve through the glass with a hint of curiosity. His voice was soft and quiet. “Why do you come?”

Steve leaned forward and tried to meet those icy eyes. He couldn’t help it. “You’re my friend. You might not remember me, but I will always be your friend.”

The Soldier tilted his head, still questioning. “That’s why you come here?” Every day, Steve thought he heard unspoken; he wasn’t sure whether Bucky registered his presence at all some days, but maybe every instance was recorded in his mind. Maybe not. What happened to a supersoldier brain when it incurred severe sustained deliberate damage was a riddle they were just beginning to examine.

Steve was determined to be steadfast, but there was little he could do to calm the intensity of what he felt. He wanted Bucky to ask these things, because he wanted him to know these things, and he would tell him again and again forever in the hope he would one day believe him and then remember himself.

“I’m here because I want to know how you’re doing. I want you to know I’m here. I’ll come every day unless you tell me honestly you don’t want me to.”

Still the cocked head, the mystified expression. “You come because…he was your friend.”

He leaned in an inch more and found his forehead touching the glass. “You’re my friend. You are Bucky Barnes. You were born in 1917 and we grew up together. You are a good man. What happened to you…was wrong, and I will do everything I can to make it better, for the rest of my life. That’s a promise.”

The cocked head straightened and it looked like some kind of comprehension dawned. He was looking at Steve in a way he couldn’t remember Bucky ever looking before, and after wondering for a few moments Steve realized it was pity on his face.

“You think he’s here.” The look of pity intensified. “You think you...can talk. To him.”

Steve swallowed. “I…I know he is. I don’t know how to convince you it’s true, but I swear it. We played together as kids and then we grew up and lived together and then the war came and we fought together. And now we’re here. I know you don’t remember, Bucky, but there’s no way I’m giving up on you, even if you never do. I know you. I’ve known you as long as I can remember.”

On the other side of the glass Bucky’s expression had settled into the blank resignation the Soldier often wore. He licked his lips, an oddly human gesture that hurt Steve’s heart, and then said, with what might have been an attempt at gentleness, “Your friend. Is gone.”

Steve took a moment, felt his forehead press a little harder on the glass. “If he’s gone, who am I talking to?”

“What,” the Soldier corrected, and then answered, “Hydra.”

He was going to need a lot of punching bags later. “Emotions don’t help,” Natasha had told him, brisk and flint-hard the way she was when she was being kind. “Men think they understand this, but they don’t. Understand it.”

Steve was beginning to understand. He didn’t howl or pound on the glass or leave to find a fight. Instead he swallowed again and asked with a calm that shocked him, “So you…believe in Hydra? In what they do?”

“The Soldier is the fist of Hydra. Weapons don’t believe. They do not need to. The Winter Soldier. Is. Hydra.”

That was the most the Soldier had spoken in one go.

#fanfic ramblings #cookin in my stewpot #post-winter soldier fanfic #steve rogers and bucky barnes #captain america and the winter soldier #struggling with how much i should make him be mean to steve lol #and for how long #and I have a little brainworm that Tony finds out about his parents a different way while the WS is in custody in stark tower #and him and steve fighting causes the soldier to break out to protect steve #🤷🤷🤷#what happens next?? eww i have to write it to find out???

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heard-nsfw-is-back · 5 months

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Part one of??? Something??? Idk it's a wip. Eventual steddie smut dw

Steve who was so used to doing what the kids needed

Steve who was where his family needed/wanted him

Steve who was so used to doing things for other that when he couldn't he just sort of..lost it. He took three jobs just to feel useful. Ran himself ragged and always stayed late unless he had another job to be at then he took the bare minimum to make sure he wasn't late. He never was. He cooked and cleaned so much his house made his nose burn. Robin had made a moment once about how she wished she could have more of Steve's cooking and from then on he made her a lunch every day.

She sat him down once and very seriously asked him if he was ok. He just broke down. He looked bad, his hair was a mess, and the bags under his eyes would make a fashion designer jealous. She jumped a little and then held him so tight. Steve sobbed and screamed a little in to her shoulder.

When he could breathe again and drank enough water to satisfy Robin's glare, he told her how he felt. Her lips pursed and held out her hand. "Bring me your phone and call one of the other jobs, because you're not quitting Family Videos." Steve say up at the small order but shook his head. "No no I need to keep busy. My. My brain just can't." "Zip it. Phone." Steve sighed and brought his phone over.

An hour later Steve was back down to just one job. The managers were surprisingly ok with him quitting with no warning. Privately Robin thought they noticed how strung up Steve was. "Ok let's see." Steve's leg was bouncing. Nerves and boredom waging war on him. 'We can make you a to do list? I could use some help around my house and I know Eddie was looking to fix up the house the government bought him and his uncle." Steve inhaled sharply. "What? I thought it was a decent place when we first saw it?" Robin shrugged. "I guess not. Something about the walls and insulation? I don't know I wasn't really listening."

Steve laughed, and Robin grinned. "I'm sure it's just weird for them to go to two bedrooms to 3." Steve nodded. He had the check he was given still. Too many zeros. Made him almost sick. "Well I can definitely try. Not sure how helpful I'll be but I can try." Robin nodded once. "I'll call Ed to let him know." Steve smiled. It's been a while since he saw anyone but Robin these days. Nancy and Jonathan went to college and got an apartment. The kids were focused on applying to colleges. El, Jane? No, El. She was working on tutoring and getting her GED. She wanted to go to college with Max and Lucas. Argyle was with Eddie more now. Helping with the band. Which, was really really good. They got invited to different theaters to perform. Apparently being framed as a murderer to being cleared and getting a really good house was great for publicity.

Robin was writing stuff down while Steve strained to hear Eddie's voice. The scars made breathing harder for him so his voice came out lower now. Took to much effort to ignore the pain, Eddie said. "Easier like this." His voice sometimes was a whisper and Steve couldn't help the shiver that ran down his back when he spoke. Fuck. How was he supposed to help Eddie when all he could think about eventually was how nice he sounded. Ugh it was weird, Steve liking the effects of genuine trauma and near death had on Eddie. He needed to get back to work.

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #eddie x steve

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jayswritings13 · 2 years

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Disney: Psychic s/o with Jafar, Ursula, & Rapunzel

Request: "Hi, Hope your day is going well! Sorry if this sounds a little weird but could I request the same Headcanons about the physic s/o with Jafar, Ursula & Rapunzel?" by @underqualified-human

💗Masterlist | WIP Page

Ursula

OOOOOOHHHHh

If you didn't catch her interest before, you defiantly did now.

Sure, she's always had that crystal ball and Flotsam and Jetsam, but that was different.

She couldn't see the future for herself without a little help.

You could.

She's more curious as to how you developed this ability, and even more so after hearing that you were born with it.

With you by her side, she'd be unstoppable.

Well, she thought that she would be.

"Angel fish, why not?"

"Nothing good comes of it."

"Well, we just gotta change your perspective, 'cause I can think of a whole lot of good thing that would come of it."

"...Urs- I can't." You sighed, "I promised myself this."

So, this was it. You knew it.

As much as you loved Ursula, she was always looking out for herself.

Dating someone who had psychic powers but didn't use them when she wanted them to? Instant breakup.

You were already ramping yourself up for her harsh words and for your lonely swim home.

"I think that I get it." Ursula shrugged, "Kind of." Ursula remembers the not-so-fond days of Morgana's and her competitions over potions and spells to impress her mother. It almost killed her love for magic. Almost. "Now, tell Flotsam and Jetsam to get going. Triton isn't going to stay out in the open forever!"

Jafar

Very curious as to how your psychic abilities work.

Mostly for his benefit, but also as someone interested in sorcery.

Get ready for some questions, experiments, and tests.

Definitely wants to test the limits of your power.

Pre and post genie Jafar utilize your powers.

He had all of these plans for you.

With his sorcery and your Psychic ability, you'd be unstoppable.

"Well, uh, I don't really use it."

What?

"You-" Jafar paused, "You don't use it??!"

"Yeah. I've had some really bad visions and I an afraid to get more of those."

He simply can not comprehend why you don't utilize this amazing power.

Until he caught you one night, sobbing and shaking over a vision that he finally sort of understood why you found your power a curse.

Since then, he did not push as hard for you to use your psychic abilities.

Well, as much.

Jafar was still power hungry, so he very much so pestered you about using your ability.

The only thing that changed was that when you said no, he did less bitching, moaning, and complaining, which you appreciated.

Rapunzel

Very happy to not be the only one with some type of supernatural ability, even if she currently does not have that ability.

You guys sometimes playfully fight over who has that cooler ability.

Rapunzel is dead set on that you have the cooler ability.

She asks questions about how it works and what it feels like.

But, she is quickly sadden when you tell her the immense anxiety you feel with every bad vision you get.

Rapunzel may have had a bad experience using her power, but in general, her healing powers are a good thing.

And Rapunzel views them as so.

So, she can't imagine what it must be like to have this ability but for it to cause you so much trumoil and pain.

SUPPORTIVE AF

Rapunzel is there whenever you need her to be, always ready to take you away and distract you if needed.

"Need a hug?"

"Why don't we talk a stroll around the castle?

"I think that there are some cookies in the kitchen. I can grab us some."

You appreciate it, of course, especially since Rapunzel is always down to have the big feelings talk about it.

"How are you doing?" Rapunzel asked, taking your hand in hers.

"....Better." You sighed, "Or at least better than before."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Rapunzel asked. "I mean, you don't have to, if you don't want to."

"....yea, kind of." You said, "Is that okay?"

"Of course, it is. I'm always here for you."

#disney villains #disney princesses #disney aladdin #disney little mermaid #tangled #disney tangled #disney jafar #disney ursula #disney rapunzel #disney x reader #disney headcanons #jafar x reader #ursula x reader #rapunzel x reader

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shootingstarpilot · 6 months

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Fic Writer 20 Questions

Thanks for the tag, @merlyn-bane!

1.) How many works do you have on ao3?

Eight!

2.) What's your ao3 word count?

217,911

3.) What fandoms do you write for?

*sobbing* Star Wars, my beloved. The brainrot is real; I am consumed. When I was still on FF.net, though, I had stuff up in Harry Potter and How to Train Your Dragon.

4.) What are your top five fics by kudos?

back then, i was dauntless

how to bring him home

if i don't make it back (from where i've gone)

though some would harm you

like lightning changing hands

5.) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I absolutely do! I feel bad because I know I've gotten some lovely comments on chapters that aren't the most recent one, and those tend to get lost in the inbox, but I promise I'm working on it- if you get a response from a comment you left a year and a half ago, don't hold it against me 😅

I do it because I want so badly to build community here! I love getting comments from people, responding to something with a wee hint of a tease because I'm AWFUL and then getting a keysmash of a response and then exchanging snippets in the comments, truly, it fills me with delight- and I've met some absolutely wonderful people who I got introduced to by responding to comments-

Anyway. Community. That.

6.) What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oh. Hm. Hm.

I... guess it would have to be though some would harm you? Although I'm not sure if I feel confident in that designation, because it's very much part of a multi-work series. And I'm too much of a sucker for happy endings to write a stand-alone fic that doesn't have one, I think.

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

Oh, neural plasticity, for sure! Short and sweet <3

8.) Do you get hate on fics?

A bit. I can brush off the "actually the Jedi were the real monsters" assholes easily enough, but honestly, the comments that hit the hardest are the ones that clearly come from people who think they're offering ✨constructive criticism.✨ Not only because I didn't ask for it, but also because saying my work is "fatiguing" or "I'm sure there's a decent story here, but it's being buried under what you're trying to do with it-" there's nothing constructive there.

Side note: the person who left that last comment deleted it about half an hour later, because when I went to reply, it had vanished from my inbox. I don't know if they did that because they didn't want me to be able to reply, or if they realized that what they said was unhelpful and mean, but if they ever happen to see this-

I still got the email, prick.

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

Write? No, I haven't quite worked up the panache to try. Reading, on the other hand...

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

I do have snippets of one crossover that I actually posted in an anonymous collection, ha- an old BBC Merlin/ Good Omens/ Supernatural fic that I dug out of my old documents. Other than that, no- unless you count the Prequels and the Clone Wars as different enough to qualify as a crossover.

11.) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of!

12.) Have you ever had a fic translated?

Also not that I know of- very much open to it, though!

13.) Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Since I don't think taking drabbles in tumblr chats to ridiculous lengths counts, I'd have to say no- I'd like to, though!

14.) What's your all time favorite ship?

Codywan. Fiercely, unwaveringly Codywan.

Just to reinforce this- 292 of my bookmarks consist of Cody/Obi-Wan. The next most common romantic pairing (Aziraphale/Crowley) has less than half that, at 121.

I'm a goner, and I can't even bring myself to regret it.

15.) What's a WIP you'd like to finish, but doubt you ever will?

OKAY SO I've written snippets of a modern AU focusing on Helix, Needle and Stitch, and I'm totally gonna take this opportunity to rage about it. I'm probably never gonna finish it, but it gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling, so, hey- what else is fic for, really, if not for indulging yourself?

At first, it's just Needle and Stitch. It's just been the two of them, for as long as Stitch can remember. Needle's only a few years older than him, but he's raised him, kept him in school, kept a roof over their heads and food on the table-

Food on Stitch's plate, at least.

Then, one night, Needle does not come home.

A hit-and-run, the nurse tells him, although the words will not trickle through until much later. A coma.

He will not, they say patiently, come home for some time.

(There is so much that needs doing.)

Helix, meanwhile, is studying physical therapy at the local community college and working part-time at his brother Ace's bakery.

It's during one of these shifts that a skinny little twerp comes in and hands him a job application.

(Rent and bills and Needle Needle Needle-)

It doesn't take Helix long to realize something is... off.

Ace tells him not to push it, but-

The kid's a good worker. Great, as a matter of fact. He's never late. Stays past closing, too, if they've had a rush. He tells Helix about his brother and nothing else.

(His brother hasn't come to visit.)

Everything that's not sold at the end of the day gets packaged up and given out. They only toss in the dumpster what's really, truly inedible- stuff that got dropped in the kitchen, scraps left over from customers-

He thinks it's raccoons, at first, until he peers in and sees Stitch flatten himself against a heap of bags in the corner.

They package up leftovers for him, after that. A bit more than leftovers, maybe. Ace sets aside sandwiches. Helix buys him a thermos and tells him it's been in the lost and found for over a year. They make sure he eats.

(Needle's getting transferred out of the ICU.)

Stitch is trying. He's doing everything he can, and more besides. But Needle's life is too expensive and he's buckling under the weight.

(He hasn't even grieved. Not really. No room. No time.)

Eventually, something has to give.

He does.

(He hadn't expected someone to be there to catch him.)

Featuring:

Helix stumbling into adopting first one, then two idiot kids

Ace being a supportive brother

Needle finding his way home

Mace Windu as Needle's (unfairly attractive, Helix thinks) neurologist

Obi-Wan as a hospital social worker who gets assigned Needle's file

Cody as Obi-Wan's husband, Helix's cousin, and children's book author (Stitch's favorite)

(listen I am WEAK for author!Cody, truly)

(Helix was totally the one who got them together and he regrets it every day of his life.)

Sheev Palpatine as the epitome of the evil of the American healthcare system

The Melidaan crew running a long-term, non-profit care facility that offers both in-patient and out-patient rehab services

16.) What are your writing strengths?

(I'VE PUT TOO MUCH THOUGHT INTO THIS. SHIT.)

17.) What are your writing weaknesses?

I am, apparently, really good at writing breakdowns. >:3

18.) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Dialogue does not come easily to me. I have to work a bit to hit my stride. But I think it turns out well enough!

Hm. Coming from a purely technical perspective here, I think the reader should be able to understand everything that's spoken in a fic. If a character says something in another language, then I think the best way to convey that is, "X muttered something Y didn't catch," or, if the listener recognizes that it's at least in another language, "X muttered something in French."

If the reader should understand it, then something along the lines of: "'I knew we shouldn't have trusted him,' X muttered in French."

If the POV character doesn't understand the language, it doesn't make sense to provide the reader with a perfect transliteration of what the other character is saying. The character wouldn't have that knowledge. It can really take me out of the fic when two characters suddenly start conversing in written-out sentences in another language, and I have to scroll all the way down to the footnotes for translations.

19.) First fandom you wrote for?

But then again, that's just my opinion- I'm sure others have their own thoughts on this!

20.) Favorite fic you've ever written?

Harry Potter.

Hell, I have to say like lightning changing hands, if only because whatever fic I'm writing at the moment is my favorite. It's the act of creation that does it for me!

(Also because it's such a good opportunity to explore so many relationship dynamics.)

No-pressure tags for @jedi-enthusiast, @themonopolyhat, @shadow-pixelle, and @foreverchangingfandomsao3!

#shoulder the sky #me: let's summarize this lil nebulous au for sharing! :D #also me ten minutes later: shit. it's grown legs.#personal #my writing

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wingsonghalo · 4 months

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20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @cnnmonbimee! Thank you for the tag!! Read her awesome answers here!

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 66! More than I thought were on there tbh!

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? Uhhh apparently it's 684,757! Less than I thought!

3. What fandoms do you write for? In order of most fics to least: Ace Attorney, JSHK, My Hero Academia, Mob Psycho 100, Homestuck, Hunter x Hunter, Phineas and Ferb, and Supernatural. I've also written a lot of Pokemon stuff, but somehow that has escaped Ao3 despite it being my longest fandom LOL. Working on a Pokemon SV one currently though 👀

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? Project: Matchmakers (shocker, I know), Sleep (Too) Tight (It's always been slowly but steadily popular), Force of Habit (bit of a surprise there honestly), Project: Matrimony (less surprising), and The Stuff of Dreams. So what I am seeing here is that no one leaves kudos on my JSHK or MP100 or MHA fics :') Some of these fics are one-shots, so it's kind of surprising! I wish PlayWright had gotten more attention; that fic killed me while I was writing it. I'm not giving number of kudos because I'm not comfortable with that and it makes me feel bad about myself haha,,,

5. Do you respond to comments? I try to! I've fallen behind on responding to them in the past 2 years or so because life has been so busy, though…

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Probably A Practice, For Now?? LMAO it's also my first JSHK and the one with the most kudos HMM COULD THIS FANDOM BE ADDICTED TO ANGST PERHAPS??! I don't write angst a lot!! What can I say, I'm a sucker for a happy ending.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Almost all of my fics end happily, LOL. Pick any of them that actually has an ending.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not commonly. I've gotten anon hate before about them on tumblr on rare occasions, but usually my comments on ao3 stay pretty nice.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I do sometimes, but I'm so shy about it that I rarely ever post it /)//w//(\ Usually I just share it among friends, haha!

10. Do you write crossovers? Nope, and I never will!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Yes. Someone tried to run Project: Matchmakers through a translator to hide the word matches and sell it as an ebook on Amazon, but they only bothered to hide it for chapter 1 so someone reported it to me and then in retaliation I started actually selling it on Amazon for the lowest price I could because the thief was trying to sell the shittier version for like 7 dollars LSFJ;AKLD. Read about the whole debacle here.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes, quite a few! People have been great about asking me for permission! 💖

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes, here and there! Usually it's either fics where I have written one part and someone else has written another scene, or someone had me look over something they'd written and I added so much commentary or threw additional ideas at them so much that the story ended up changing and I somehow became a co-author, LOL.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? Oh my god don't make me answer that ;alskdjfl;k. If I wrote a fic for them ever, they're my favorite. I have so many favorites that I've never written fics for, too.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? THE UNDERCOVER FIIIIIC [sobs] and also Left on Read hnnngh

16. What are your writing strengths? Emotions!! I'm super good at those! I'm also really strong at dialogue and banter, and making my writing kinda witty/funny.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Describing settings ;w; I write my scenes like I draw my art: in Descriptionless Blank Voids lkas;dlkf. I also struggle with the flow of action scenes sometimes, though I think they usually turn out okay if I spend enough time on them. I also probably use too many adverbs and adjectives, but y'know what? Fuck it I like my descriptive words thank you very much

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? As long as you're checking that it means what you think it means, or possibly asking a native speaker if you're unsure about context or need a sensitivity reader, I think it's fine. It annoys me if I have to check a footnote every other line, but if you can mostly understand it without a translation in context, it can be kinda nice! At least it says you're trying more than phonetically spelling out an accent, which--remember, kids!--is always cringe! 👍

19. First fandom you wrote for? On Ao3, it was Homestuck. On the internet in general, it was Animal Crossing and Pokemon, LOL.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? Don't make me cHOOSE BETWEEN MY BABIESSS 😭 I dunno man! Project: Matchmakers is my magnum opus, but the PlayWright is lowkey kind of a masterpiece, I love so many of my JSHK fics to bits and pieces, a lot of my MP100 and MHA fics are very special to me, I've been trying to write a HxH one for YEARS and have poured my heart into making it beautiful, just UGHHH every single one of my fics I have vivid memories of conceptualizing and working on and most of them are my favorite to some degree!

I tag @carochinha, @kittykatz009, @toastytoaster22, @ittybittytoostormy, and anyone else who would like to answer these questions!!

#stuff i write #jibaku shounen hanako kun #narumitsu #ace attorney #mp100 #tagged me #hxh #pokemon #friends

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madamefluffnstuff · 2 months

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Uneasy Revelations

Fandom: Elder Scrolls Online

Pairing: Darien Gautier x Fem!Werewolf!Vestige

Rating: T

Warning(s): Werewolves, Supernatural Transformation, Mentions of a -medium- Panic Attack, etc.

Words: 983

AN: I'm sloooowly working through my list of WIP's. In no particular order but still.

A convo about werewolves and angst with @lithiumrev lead to a deliciously angst-y mini fic with unexpected confessions and forgiveness. Which I very lovingly snuck off with, cleaned up a bit to fit the DC storyline, and ran with. ;D

Dairen and the Vestige are kinda sorta in a relationship? Not "official" official but definitely in the heavy flirting stage. There's some feelings.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Darien took a shaky step back as the adrenaline cleared and he returned to his surroundings. His heart suddenly plummeted to his stomach- he couldn't believe what he was seeing with his own two eyes;

The Vestige, standing right where the werewolf had just been. With a sword in her gut. The very sword he just used to fend off the lycanthrope.

“Oh by the Eight, what have I done?!” he screamed. Seeing her as a werewolf brought back so many bad memories from Camlorn, it was only natural he reacted the way he did. He collapsed to one knee and started to assess the situation. By that time the Vestige started to come to and glance up at him, Gabrielle had caught up to them. “Darien! What—" she tried to ask but was caught off guard by an uncharacteristic sob.

“I didn't mean to!” he choked, “It was a werewolf, but then it was Her!”

“Go get my healing staff!” Gabrielle hollered, “Now!” Darien ran to go get it, as the mage checked the Vestige's pulse. “Still strong. That's good," she muttered to herself.

“Here.” Darien gasped, handing her the staff. "I-I didn't realize-" before he could finish his sentence, Gabrielle grabbed his arm.

"Listen to me. Hey- Listen," she grabbed his hand and placed it on the Vestige's chest. “Do you feel that?”

“… Yes.”

“That's her heartbeat. The fact she still has one is a good sign. Now I need you to keep your hand there and tell me if it weakens or stops. Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah, I can.”

The mage worked in a tense silence, glowing hands hovering above the Vestige's chest, making their way down to the gut wound. “I know why you did it, and I know we should have told you," she began. “But after the liberation of Camlorn she... She was terrified that you would leave.” Darien had the Vestige's head in his lap and was monitoring her pulse as best he could while his thoughts were racing. “Daire? Did you hear me?”

“Y-Yes.” he answered shakily, taking in her features. Her paling face and shallow breathing were all he could focus on.

Just as Gabrielle was finishing with the bandages, the Vestige's eyes flew open and she gasped, hard. The looks on her comrades faces told her everything- she knew what had transpired without either of them saying a word.

"Darien?! Oh gods, I'm so sorry! I'm so so sorry-!" Darien stopped her mid-sentence with a bone-crunching hug.

"Oh thank the Eight- thank the Eight you're okay-" he choked again. "I'm so glad you're alive-"

Gabrielle let out a small chuckle. “I’ll give you two some space. Come get me if something happens, okay?”

As their panic subsided and the renewed adrenaline tapered off, Darien scooped the Vestige up and carried her to one of the nearby infirmary tents. Luck was once again on their side, as the tent was empty. As he kneeled and gingerly laid her down on one of the cots, he caught a glimpse of the bandages on her belly. He felt a little sick seeing them, knowing he was the reason she needed them.

“I don't know what to say…” he said quietly.

“Just... sit with me, please,” she answered. “Talk to me about how this makes you feel.”

“To be honest, I don't know if I can.”

“Well, just talk, then. About anything. I know this hurts you too.”

"You have no idea, Vestige."

Darien proceeded to ramble about everything that popped into his mind- The panic when he saw the werewolf, how he felt when he first realized it was her, how scared he was when he realized what he did-

How sorry he was. How so incredibly sorry he was, the guilt was eating him up. It was a split-second panic decision, he had no idea it was her.

She listened quietly, taking in his words and hearing him out. Her eyes closed after a minute, and she laid her head on his chest plate as his arm wrapped comfortingly around her shoulders.

"I know I should have told you," she murmured as his hand rubbed up and down. "I'm sorry about that. It's just... I know how badly what happened in Camlorn affected you. I didn't want you to leave..."

Darien inhaled through his nose as he processed what she just said. Him? Leave her? Unthinkable. And he told her as much. "I wouldn't ever dream of it, my dear."

A small chuckle escaped her tired lips. "I know this probably makes you uncomfortable, but- That transformation was rather sudden for me as well. I didn't intend for you to find out like-"

He interrupted her with a tender kiss on her temple. "It surprised me at first, I'll admit. I was wondering why there was one rogue werewolf attacking the others. Should have known it was you when I couldn't find you on the battlefield.

"But you helped so much when you transformed. I can forgive you for that."

The Vestige looked up at him and blinked. "Just like that? You're okay with it? After what happened in Camlorn?"

He nodded. "Of course. You had nothing to do with that. At least I hope you didn't."

"I assure you I did not."

"Good. Then all is forgiven. We can figure this out. Just- don't, uh, "wolf out" when I'm around, alright? Don't think I could take that sight."

She chuckled. "I will do my best not to."

~*~

Gabrielle leaned against the support post outside the tent, just out of sight from the entrance. She had brought some extra healing supplies in case the Vestige needed it, but after her (mostly) unintentional eavesdropping, she knew her friend would be fine. Besides, Darien could keep an eye on her.

If he could remain focused on the task at hand, that is.

#I assure you all my next werewolf piece will not be angst #need some fluffy werewolf content now #elder scrolls online #eso #eso vestige #werewolf #werewolf vestige #darien gautier #eso darien gautier #angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #writing #my writing #eso fic #fanfic

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g0dspeeed · 8 months

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WIP WEDNESDAY NITE

Tagged by @gaeadene , @cassietrn , @inafieldofdaisies , @direwombat , @simplegenius042 , & @josephseedismyfather 💖

Part 2 of The Bad Door from the last WIP day

Aka Eli Palmer is having a rough time in the bunker

Angst ahead!

The Bad Door. A simple name, but it was all Eli needed to get the point across to one headstrong four year old whose curiosity was as wide and wild as Montana itself. Just a scary name–and some very firm reminders–was all it took to convey to little River that he was to never mess with them, not the door at the top of the stairs nor the hatch above the ladder. It worked. River minded. The Bad Doors were not to be opened. Eli never thought he'd be so terrified for anyone else to be near the Bad Door as he was when he found her. Cappie was on the cold rungs of the ladder, barefoot with fingertips reaching up to the metal hatch above. Suspended, dangled, she didn't move any further. She just stood on the rungs with knuckles white in his militia T-shirt, the hem ghosting her thighs. Eli wondered what those beautiful, emerald eyes saw beyond the Bad Door, for Cappie was nearly moved to tears. He wanted to catch them like rain, her tears, and so Eli moved to stand beside the ladder to gaze up at her with somber eyes. "Hey, gorgeous," he whispered. A gasp left Cappie as her head snapped to look at him, eyes glassy and with a tinge of mania that Eli didn't like. "I just wanna check," said Cappie, fast like a secret. "Just a peek–" "Love–" "Just real fast. Maybe–" "You can't," pressed Eli in a voice as soothing as morning rain. "You can't, it isn't safe yet. Just, just come to bed–" "I just need to check–" "No, Love, its–" "I miss the sky!" Her voice startled Eli, how it warbled against the metal walls of the bunker, so desperate, so pained. Eli saw how she trembled on the ladder, how her bare legs prickled with goosebumps. He swallowed. "You miss the sky," he reflected.

Her gaze bore into his as one would an empty house. Eli returned it with his own scrutiny, searching for Reason. "I miss the sky," she rasped. "I miss the sun. I don't even know what time it is or, or where I am anymore! I don't know who I am. I can't feel my skin. I can't see my face..." His arms reached out for her, catching her body as it sagged off of the ladder and into his warm embrace. Eli breathed in the heady aroma of her smell, of warm amber, grounding himself. "It's 2022," he whispered into the crown of her dark hair, as if the closer he spoke to her wounded mind, the more Cappie would believe him. "It's 3 AM. We're in Hope County, in Montana. You're with me, Eli, in the Wolf's Den. You're Love Palmer. You're Love and you're River's mother–" "I miss the sky…" His chest became wet with her hot tears. The broken sob broke his heart, almost as much as seeing their son curled up against Tammy's side as they and the others looked on with a shared sadness. "I know," admitted Eli. "I miss it, too. But we're gonna see the sky together, gorgeous, because I don't want to see it without ya. We're close. We're almost there. When River is seven, I promise." "I miss the sky–" "I know," he whispered. "And I will show you the sky again. For you. And for River. I promise." A simple promise, but it was all Eli needed to reach her. Cappie allowed him to guide her back to their bed where Cappie slept for the next two days. Eli didn't know what broke his heart more: How Cappie was fading right before his very eyes or what their son did to the walls of the main hall after his mother stood at the Bad Door.

Blue. It was all so blue with globs of white and crude birds. A simple explanation between smears of blue crayon and pastel, arcs of atmosphere of a world River never saw. It was enough to shatter Eli's heart into dust. "I'm giving Mama her sky, Daddy…"

☁️

#oc: cappie de la costa #otp: cappieli #cappie de la costa x eli palmer #wip whatever

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months

Text

Dirty Work 28

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: lmaooooo this is my ultimate mental breakdown in fic form.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Mr. Laufeyson's grip on your wrist grows tighter as he drags you to the stairs. You stumble after him as he ascends, haughtily keeping a step ahead as you struggle to keep up. As you get to the top, you latch onto his arm, trying to slow him. He ignores you as the heels you still wear scuff on the floor.

"Mr. Laufeyson," you murmur.

"Be quiet," he snaps, "you are not to speak."

He marches into the bedroom and yanks you in after him. He kicks the door shut as he points you to the bed. You gulp and sit at the foot, meekly staring at the toes of the beige heels.

"I want you to listen and understand me." He begins, "look at me."

Your eyes flick up and you clench your jaw tight.

"That is not suitable behaviour. I don't care how much you've imbibed, you are not to touch or be touched by anyone but me. That is our agreement, yes?"

You nod as your lower lip pokes out just a little.

"I really want you to hear me," he steps closer, bending to meet your eye line, "I do not tolerate disloyalty and it will not be forgiven a second time."

"Mr. Laufeyson," you croak, "I didn't... I didn't kiss her, she kissed me--"

"And you let her," he sneers, "you are not some helpless fawn. We are past that, yes? You cannot go on letting yourself be passed around like a used toy."

You recoil, pouting deeper at the pang in your chest. Isn't that what he's done? What he continues to do? To use you?

His cheek ticks and he blinks, tension releasing as the stitch between his brows eases. He stands straight, hands on his hips and sighs, "don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" You babble in a wobbly voice.

"Don't," he points at you.

"I'm not doing anything," you nearly sob.

"I will not feel sorry for you, quit it. You are the one who's done wrong."

You bat your lashes. You don't understand. You're just sitting there.

"You won't make me feel bad for your misdeeds," he turns and paces to the side, stopping as he looks back at you again, "stop."

You shake your head and look around. You lower your chin and swing your feet over the side of the bed. You watch them bounce, feeling the springs below you. He huffs as he spins and continues his agitated cycle back and forth. You peek up at him as his lips move in silent monologue.

He's kind of silly when you think of it. So uptight and yet you've seen that other side of him. Almost desperate, like a puppy begging for a treat. You don't know why you didn't see it sooner. But now, he mopes like a dog cast outside.

You giggle. Quietly at first, and it gets louder, tickling up your throat. He stops and faces you, tilting his head curiously.

"What?" He hisses.

One last guffaw bubbles up and you cover your mouth. You shake your head and wiggle your shoulders, "nothing."

"Something must be amusing."

"Nothing," you repeat, "Mr. Laufeyson," you drop your hand, cheeks still bulbed in a barely restrained smile, "I promise, I just... I feel funny."

"Mmm, yes, wine," he tisks, "let's not venture down that road often."

You let out another snort and stop yourself. You cringe at him, showing your teeth, "sorry."

"What are you laughing at?" He narrows his eyes.

"It is only... you're so proper but... but you're not really," your lips tug at the sides as your skin burns. You shouldn't have said it aloud.

"Not proper?" He echoes and nears you again, thumbs hooking in his pants pockets, "what about me isn't proper?"

You shrug and look away. You don't say anything. It isn't one thing, really.

He hums and it deepens to a growl. Suddenly, he grabs your chin and forces your head straight. He makes you look at him as he bends, "you're not incorrect. I can be... improper."

He shoves you down to your back and you gasp. In an instant, he pushes your legs apart with his and kneels on the mattress. He leans over you as his hand firms on your throat.

"Especially," he touches the flouncy fabric around your thighs, "when you wear skirts like this."

"Mr. Laufeyson," you breathe.

He grins as his eyes sparkle like gems, "oh yes, I am feel very improper," he tugs the fabric from under his knees, "so improper, it hurts."

He slips his hand under your skirt and your thighs twitch, "it throbs and I can hardly control myself as I ache to let out all those improper thoughts." He pushes two fingers against your cotton panties and you squeak, "to unleash them upon your soft flesh," he pushes against you, prodding firm so pressure tingle in your core, "to delve..." he leans in closer, "deep inside."

"Mr..." you begin, pushing on his shoulders, "please..."

"Where was all this when she was on you, hm?" He snarls as his nose brushes yours, "I dare say, you enjoy playing the little slut."

You gasp and clasp the fabric of his shirt. He presses his lips to yours, smothering you as you squirm helplessly. His tongue invades your mouth and you nearly choke. His fingers rub your panties, building heat in your flesh. You writhe, splayed under him as he rocks his pelvis against the back of his hand.

You whimper around his tongue, trapped beneath him as you grasp at his sleeves and push on his chest. He won't budge. You close your eyes, trying to calm your nerves, trying to give in. That's what you're supposed to do so why can't you?

His hips tilts harder into his hand as he continues to tease you, the burning sensation turns tingly as a moan slips from you. You arch your back as your body tenses. You can't help but long for more as a fullness consumes you, building as he swirls his fingers faster and faster. The bed shakes with his frantic motion as his mouth slips down your cheek.

He puffs and growls against your earlobe. You whine as you bend your legs, digging the heels into the blankets without a care. The feeling is too much, unlike anything you've felt before, more than you ever inspired in your aimless explorations of yourself.

He groans and nuzzles into your neck, nipping as he grows more raucous in his tending. Simulating more as he teethes and sucks at your skin. He bites down on the muscle of your shoulder as your breath grows rampant and you moan and murmur.

He unlatches from you and rasps into your skin, "that's it, pet." His breath dampens the crook of your neck, "must I remind you who you belong to?"

You gulp and hiccup, the fluttering of your core turning to a vibrant thrum. You squeak as you feel a snap inside and you spasm as you crest the peak. You dig your fingertips into his chest as you ride the thrilling high and slowly come down, going limp as his touch relents, thought his hand lingers between your legs.

He lifts his head, his hair askew, and frames your face with his longer fingers. His nostrils flare as he hovers his lips just above yours, "you are mine, pet, don't forget again."

He nips your lower lip before consuming you in another greedy kiss. You're too dizzy, drunk, and dumb to stop him.

✨

Mr. Laufeyson leaves you as you are, legs bent over the end of the bed, dazed and staring at the ceiling. It's slightly degrading but you're too weak to move. Too stunned by what he did. By how it felt.

It's a good thing isn't it, to enjoy it too. It should be and yet, you can't help but doubt everything. Him, especially. You don't trust yourself to trust him. Once he has everything he wants, will he even care? That question stings and has you sitting up.

You fold over your lap and groan. Your head hurts.

You have no delusions. You're not special. You'll never be that. Heck, your own father doesn't even want you. Stop. It's just the alcohol getting to you.

You stand and the skirt falls straight. Your eyes droop heavily. You could fall asleep on your feet. You go to the window and peer out at the front lawn, you see the end of Ronan's truck just past the eaves. You haven't even said hello. It's Monday and you haven't even started cleaning!

You go to the door but the handle doesn't turn. You wiggle it, jiggling the door as you try to rip it out of the frame. Not again! You hit the door with your fist but think better of yelling. Mr. Laufeyson can't expect much if he's going to keep you locked up.

You back away and turn to the room. You look around. Like really take it in, every inch. You recall the first day you walked up to this place, it seemed so magical and fantastical. The first mansion you'd ever seen up close. Then the inside, even more amazing. It still is but you never really took the time to appreciate it. There was always something to distract you.

And you live here now. Kind of. For a while, at least.

Doubt swirls around you. What happens after? This won't last forever. What then? Of course, you can't stay. You'll go back and apologise to your dad, things can be what they were. Or close to. Your dad will always be your dad.

Thinking just makes your head pulse. So you try not to. You return to the window and stare out, longing to go down and smell the flowers, touch the lush leaves waving in the wind. To just pretend for a little bit that you're free.

✨

You barely remember sitting down or falling asleep. You wake on the edge of the bed, curled up facing the window as the sun sets beyond. You hug yourself in the dim light and blink away the sleep in your eyes.

There's a soft scratch from behind you. You notice the door is open and peer over your shoulder cautiously. Mr. Laufeyson sits against the headboard, his eyes pinpointed on the book in his hands. You gasp as he arches a brow.

"Um," you gurgle and roll onto your back, stiffly sitting up, "Mr. Laufeyson."

"Ah, there she is," he says dryly without looking away from the pages.

"I'm sorry, I..."

"Yes, yes, wine in the morning does spoil the day," he muses drolly.

"I didn't mean--"

"Yes, yes, you keep saying how you don't mean anything," he closes the book and rests it on his lap, "as you didn't mean to mewl like a cat as I pet you, yes? Let's not pretend you are so innocent.”

You frown and go to turn away. In an instant he has a vice on your arm, pulling you back as his fingertips jab into you painfully. You whimper and face him again.

“I didn't say go,” he grits.

“Sorry–”

“Shh,” he puts a finger to your lips, “I don't want you to talk. You listen, that is your duty, yes?”

You nod, choked with humiliation. He lets you go and folds his hands over the book on his lap. He pushes his shoulders back and sits up straight.

“You will get up and go to the end of the bed,” he demands.

You obey without hesitation. You climb off the bed and take tiny steps around the bed, still wearing the shiny heels. You turn to face him and stare at the mattress.

“Head up. Eyes on me,” he orders, “you see, pet, we must train you as you seem to forget yourself.”

You open your mouth and quickly shut it. You stare at him, wide-eyed.

“Take that off.” You look around and he hums disapprovingly, “uh uh. Me.”

Your eyes snap back to him and you quiver. You touch the skirt, slowly balling your hands around the fabric. Your throat constricts in horror.

“You know how I feel about repeating myself,” he girds.

You look down but quickly pop your head back up before he can reproach you. You run your hands up to blouse and toy with the hem. You shudder and lift it just a few inches, freezing as you fight to go further

“Trust me when I say you do not want me to do it myself,” he scoffs, “don't play coy with me now.”

Your mouth draws to a tight line and you gnaw on your lower lip. You raise the fabric higher, exposing the unpadded cotton of your bra. The blouse catches on your chin before you wriggle free.

You lower it in between your hands and reluctantly let it fall to the floor before you. Your hands fidget and find the waist of the skirt. Your eyes flit to the wall and immediately back to Laufeyson as a growl crawls up his throat.

You reach back and unbutton the clasp. Your hand shakes on the zipper, tugging it down bit by bit. Mr. Laufeyson doesn't waver, his eyes fixed on you. Just on your face.

The fabric slackens and falls away from your hips. You stand in only the underwear and the heels. You teeter and step out of the shoes. You stare back at him expectantly.

“You're not done,” he slithers, his eyes clinging to yours darkly.

You blanch and let your mouth fall open. You'd never been naked in front of anyone. Ever.

Your hands go numb and move on their own. You can't deny his gaze or his tone. You reach back to unhook your bra and gulp loudly as you unbend your arms and it falls off your chest. You squeak and watch it fall.

He clears his throat and you look at him. You forgot. Your fingers trace the band on your underwear and you push your thumbs beneath. You bend little by little as you shove them down.

You feel your chest swell forward with the movement as your underwear dip to your ankles. You stand straight and kick them away. You cant help but hide yourself with your arms.

“No,” he growls.

You put your arms straight and let out a pathetic noise. His gaze clings to your far just a little longer before slowly descending. You shiver as you see the smoke in them. He lets the book fall off his lap as his eyes rove your figure.

He smirks, “see, it isn't hard to be good.”

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #dirty work #mcu #marvel #avengers #thor #maid au

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sergeantnarwhalwrites · 8 days

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OC Questionare

Thanks for the tag @winterandwords and @illarian-rambling! I'm gonna compile the questions in this one 👍🏾.

I tag: @jezifster @weirdgirlcroix @the-void-writes @revenantlore @cryptid-s-wips (Only if you want! Open tag too)

Your questions

1. Be honest, you fucking up that dance floor? (Good or bad way doesn't matter.)

2. Something you think is stupid?

3. How's that sleep schedule looking?

Robots & Gardens crew I guess.

What are you most ashamed of doing?

Green: "Killing a protester for meh money. Was desperate at the time. Hopin' not to fall on desperate times again."

Peace: "Guess I'm ashamed if I dragged anyone into an unsuccessful plan. Stresses everyone out."

Hollis: "Working my old job. Shouldn't have stuck around so long."

Donnie: "Taking on extra enhancements to do this job."

Digits: "I wouldn't really say I've got a lot of actual friends. So I've gotta be doing something."

If you had one wish, what would it be?

Green: "Enough money to support all the peoples that roam in. 'Specially the kids and Peace. Peace might hate it, but she loves me it's fine."

Peace: "No more fucking smog. I want to see the sky. I feel like I haven't seen a clear sky since I was a kid. The hell is this?"

Hollis: "That I had focused more on my music. Love helping people but I shouldn't be used to seeing demolished prosthetics and what people look like screaming and sobbing in pain. You know? But maybe that's me."

Donnie: "More accessible tech. Damn it took me three damn lifetimes to figure all of this out."

Digits: "I just want prosthetics that don't suck ass and sleep. If they pick sleep tell them to make it eternal. I'm sick of this shit."

Where is your favourite place in the world?

Green: "Gonna take ya on a nostalgia trip a bit. I'd say Peace's parents's place. But maybe the diner with the good pops. The fizzies in the glass bottles with the real sugar. Oh hell yeah. Add Peace to the mix and a silent phone and I migh've finally died."

Peace: "There's this spot by the diner right. And there used to be a patch of trees and like an itty bitty pond thing? It was kinda like a really really deep puddle after it rains. Green and I used to sit there sometimes and chug fizzies back to back till we felt like we were gonna puke. Think one of us did one time."

Hollis: "There's a couple hangout spots. But one in particular has a longue sorta thing going. And I get to play my music for a crowd. Get to play my music for the gorgeous dancers when they show. And I usually get a mouthful of a beautiful person too. It's the place to be."

Donnie: "Those rooftop garden things. A lot of them do end up shrivelled and depressing looking after the chemical rain. But the ones that flourish. Really fucking flourish. It's gorgeous. Or just my own home garden. It's nice to stare at nature after fighting all day. Or staring at screens all day."

Digits: "Is it sad if I say my place? Feeling like I'm barely there anymore. It's comfy. There's usually food. The tv works. I like my room, bed's comfy."

What is (or would be) your favorite subject in school?

Green: "History. I actually understood it the longest."

Peace: "Foreign language. Language classes in general really."

Hollis: "Shit it's been awhile. Any of the hobby classes maybe. Really liked the hands on stuff." (Electives basically).

Donnie: "Science. The really broad environmental stuff. I didn't like the smaller stuff much."

Digits: "Math and trade skills. Ended up working construction for a reason."

Have you ever played a prank on someone?

Green: "Yeah. Think I ended up gettin' my ass beat by the menace though."

Peace: "Nope. Well maybe? I helped Green out with hers sometimes. I hate when that woman pranks me. Gets her off my back if she can focus it on someone else."

Hollis: "Pulled out a chair or two. Swapped drinks. Nothing special."

Donnie: "I don't think so. I don't think I'm clever enough to come up with a good one."

Digits: "People usually prank me. But I've gotten my get back a couple times."

If you could swap bodies with anyone you know for a day, who would it be?

Green: "Hollis maybe. She's cool, maybe I could get somethin' out of it."

Peace: "Digits. And I'm making her lay the hell down."

Hollis: "Don't think I could do it. Donnie gets injured all the time. Digits's arms spazz at random. I'd give myself a concussion in Peace's body. Get killed in Green's. And would be annoyed to clean up after drunk assholes at my hangout spot as a bartender."

Donnie: "Digits maybe. Give her a mental break from her prosthetics at least."

Digits: "Green. Green all day. No I didn't answer that too fast. Fuck off."

#long post #writeblr #tag games

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deadqueernoldor · 5 months

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End of Year Fic Recs!

I got tagged by @camille-lachenille for this, and boy I havent had time to read fic in a hot minute but this was literally the perfect opportunity to go through my ao3 and tumblr bookmarks again! Also I feel really bad that I couldnt get 5 for the first 3 categories, so pls dont take it personal if I forgot. My tagging system is a mess and idk if it works but if you want more tumblr writing recs go into the "writing that has me foaming out the mouth like a rabid dog" tag I have at the top of my account.! There's so many good drabbles and ficlets i couldnt possibly name them all! Also i likely could have tagged other author's tumblr accs but i didn't feel like looking bc I'm exhausted. I love these all sm

Also I cheated with the self rec bc one is from 2022 but I didnt want to rec only my OC lol

Recommend up to 5 series or multi-chapter fics from 2023 that everyone should read (multi-year WIPs count, if the last update was in 2023).

Beneath a Boundless Sky by @runawaymun — ongoing — Rating (M)

Summary: Elrond’s two new wards both struggle to feel at home in Rivendell. The wounds from their slavery in King Frumgar’s court are still fresh, and the scars are deep -- and they’re not the only ones. Maglor is home at last, but each day he lives he is haunted by guilt and grief. Elrond is nothing if not patient, and he is certain that given enough time in Rivendell, all three will heal.

I am always frothing at the mouth at OCs and world building and this work *and the prev work/part 1 of the series* is SO good

dare you see a soul at the white heat? by millyfaraway — ongoing — Rating (M)

Summary: Lómion is reembodied, but struggles to cope. His uncles try to help.

BABY BOY GETS FAMILY THERAPY ABBY BOY SLOWLY GETS CONFIDENCE AND PUPPY LOVE SOBBIG ITS WHAT HE DESERVES anyway go read

The Last Heir of Fëanor - Part Two by Astrance — 87k — Rating (T)

Summary: This is the second part of the tale of the surviving child of Celebrimbor of Eregion and how she fared through the Ages of the world. From the Fall of Ost-in-Edhil to Imladris and the vastness of Second Age Eriador, the fight against Sauron seems never ending. Plans have been set in motion across the Misty Mountains, but, in Lindon, many tasks await.

Have I mentioned how much I love OCs? This is literally one of the best OCs I've read, flaws and all, and the way the whole thing is written is chefs kiss. Cant decide if I'm sweating from the amount of sobbing I've done with this work *and the previous/first part* or because of the delicious angst.

and rain will make the flowers grow by @swanmaids — 800 — Rating (G)

Summary: Glorfindel and Idril; on the Helcaraxë, in Nevrast, in Gondolin.

THEM. THEM. THEM. That's all I have to say. bUT THEM!

Recommend up to 5 single chapter fics/one-shots (long or short) from 2023 that everyone should read.

your veins are empty of dust by @echo-bleu — 1.7k — Rating (G)

Summary: Anairë finds her late one day in her workshop, surrounded by slabs of stone larger than her. Nerdanel is hammering forcefully at one of them, the barest hints of an elven shape already taking form in the marble. Bitter, stinging tears run down her cheeks and into her collar, and her arms ache with exhaustion.

The body is only barely sketched, but the face is already chiselled, smooth curves and angular cheekbones.

Fëanáro emerges out of the marble, looking like he’s about to take life.

(Across the sea, her sons lead a funeral.)

Frothing. Gnawing. I love the writing. The angst. Fucking mourning. Gimme all and then hurt me some more.

Babysitting #01 by @lordgrimwing — more chaps likely, atm oneshot

Excerpt: "She brought her children."

"Who did?”

"That Elwing woman, the pro bono case Celegorm talked me into."

Modern!scenario fix with Exhausted!lawyer!maedhros. He's tired and that's very sexy of him. Maglor is secy. They all are. Idiots. But very sexy. Elrond and Elros best boys. No argument.

Dreams of Doom by @camille-lachenille — 3.8k — Rating (M)

Summary: “She runs in the dark, alone. Where her feet carry her, she knows not, and her heart is heavy with dread. Someone - something - is watching her.”

Niënor from the moment she arrives in Brethil to her death.

THE ANGST THE LOVE THE TENDERNES THE FORESHADOWING I AM BITING THIS BC I CANT FIND GLASS TO CHEW.

Recommend up to 5 fics NOT from 2023 that everyone should read (oldies but goodies.)

Those Peaceful Hours by SpaceWall — 3.9k — Rating (T)

Summary: At the end of the Third Age, faced with her impending return to the home she left before the sun, Galadriel seeks out the one person who will understand her fears and grief.

It's so well written and the premise as a whole is so great!. Compelling and Galadriel characterisation is just so very sexy to me.

Their oath will drive them, and yet betray them by musing_and_writing — 2.2k — Rating (G)

Summary: Elrond had hours to spare, and if Maglor wished to spend the short time they had together reminiscing, he would not blame him for it. As Maglor began singing, Elrond settled himself across the clearing in his own bed of autumn flowers. Maglor’s voice resounded in the clearing, clear and powerful, just as it had upon his fortress’s ramparts as he pushed back Morgoth’s forces with a Song, just as Elrond assumed it must have echoed before the poisoning of the Trees in his family’s halls as Feanor crafted his cursed jewels.

Hehehehehe cryptid mf with a heart I love it the angst the tenderness it's just so *holds gently* while also *bodychecks maglor*

Double The Baggins, Twice The Took by fogisbeautiful — 138.5k — Rating (T)

Summary: The Baggins twins, Briallen and Bilbo, have spent their whole lives taking care of each other. So when the world outside makes an (uninvited) appearance, only one thing is certain. Not for wizard or king or mountain or dragon will the two of them part. Not if they have one word to say about it.

And besides, as Gandalf points out: It never hurts to have a spare burglar on hand.

I'm a sucker for Thorin x hobbit, and you give me a fic with bilbo's sister who's so lovely characterized? I'll kiss you sloppy style

The One With All The Birds by clothonono — 46.5k — Rating (G)

Summary: Would it never end? Would there always be one more mother standing on the shore, looking out to sea, full of a grief made more terrible by hope?

Elwing and Nerdanel in Valinor in the Fourth Age; a story about children coming home.

I think swanmaids recc'd this to me once upon the time when it hadn't been finished and I want to kiss their forehead for it. It's so good! Go read bc I lick my screen every time I re-read it.

Recommend up to 5 of your own fics (completed or WIP) from 2023 that everyone should read.

Bitter end — 6.4k — Rating (T)

Summary: Maglor has one brother left.

Both have one more fight in them.

The ghost you dress up as (knows how to haunt) — ongoing — Rating (M)

Summary: Maedhros was not the first Finwëan to be captured and taken to Angband, nor did he remain there the longest. Ranyatinwë, twin of Caranthir, was the first.

She escapes.

(Series) Old Maggie Took — 7 works — 402k — all Rating (G)

Summary: The headcanon about Maglor, second son of Fëanor, lives hidden in the Shire? Yes.

#tag game #here's the tag for even more tumblr fic recs #writing that has me foaming out the mouth like a rabid dog in a positive way #i hope it works somewhat bc its been a fucking pain to find it with how broke the system is #thank you for the tag besties!

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heleneplays · 1 year

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shaking sobbing crying over SOOOO many good demos ive just had the pleasure of reading and like. AUTHORS PLS KNOW IM GOING STUPID FERAL OVER YOUR WORKS AAAAAAAA

the wars we wage by mah_sanogo (cog forum) - when I was browsing the dashingdon page I got intrigued by the summary (lmao i am currently looking for more isekai IFs >< if yall have a rec aside kingdoms & empires my inbox is OPEN <3) and while technical wise there's still a lot to correct (esp typos), the idea is VERY solid + as a fellow fan of Youjo Senki, i am SO thrilled to play, getting into a very oblivious MC and hopefully reach my goals. ALSO GOD????? CAN I FIGHT & ROMANCE GOD???? i wish 2 know bc i KNOW we can fight (technically) and im 👉🏻👈🏻

Before we are Ghosts by @anjiefiction - HELP HELP HELPPPPPPPPPPP FROM CRACK I IMMEDIATE GO TO SHAKING SOBBING THROWING UP— author i am. *clenches my fist* SO in love with this heartbreaking concept and i'm literally honest to God sobbing into my teddy bear wishing I could hug MC rn. and everyone else honestly, they need all the hugs SO bad 😭😭😭 Anyways to anyone who wants to plays this game, fucking get your tissues ready bc you'll sob with the pain and angst and. the tenderness that's still abt to come 🥺🥺🥺

Vendetta by @vendetta-if - IT'S BEEN SOOOOO LONG since i actually played through the demo, and replaying it now......... GETTING BACK INTO MY VILLAIN ERA HEE HEE HEE <3

Sinners by @sinners-if - if villain bad why hot??? <- literally the only thought in my mind EVER!!! anyway, reading the update to ch 2 on itch.io was SO unexpected, i remember only reading it on dashingdon and then. yeah. twine has never looked so good. ANYWAYS WE'RE COMING ALONG SOOOO NICELY <3 and i cannot WAIT to see what happens next!!!!!!! (also sidenote i am reading allnthe drabbles available and im. 🤡🚩over here.)

The Price of Emeralds by @thournewrites - currently scream laughing @ my MC in this one bc WOW bestie your shit out of luck!!!!!! and KDHDJDKDK HELP HELPPPPP not me getting clowned on by the og ro :((( welp! wishing them a very yess get u in that funky crew and get that money bby girl <3

Replica: between universes by @replicabetweenblogs - i see multiverse and i immediately think abt helene-verse and DEAR GOD this wip!!!!! im biting myself soooo bad rn im being absolutely INSANE abt the whole thing!!!!!!!!!! im 7 ways enamored with everyone but most especially to the bestest little sister i am going to love and cherish now and forever 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

The Eye of Eikshal by atlas7 (CoG forum) - :3c :3c :3c intrigue??? WITH A BUNCH OF FOUND FAMILY BESTIES??????? oh boy, not to mention a benefactor turned adoptive father who's wish is for the kids to actually be happy???? man. investing rn on it <3

Through Broken Lenses by Interestedparty (CoG forum) - ok on a more serious note, this story was actually one of the first ever wips i've read in dashingdon and rereading it today had me. well. feeling a lot of 😔😔😔 anyways Vi, you're so fucking mecore and much as MC is traumatized in this one, all I can say is that I she can't help but watch you :)

I actually have several more tabs left to go through but it's literally 2 am and I have been writing this on my phone since 5 pm yesterday so. yeet!!!

#so many wonderful WIPs and so little time to go through them all #honestly this IF bend is making my brain juices go wild let me all tell you that much #2 days ago I was in a fantasy/romance mood and then now im in a mystery/angst/crime mood and i think thats v sexy of me #anyways. MWAH thank you authors for your brilliant works <3 <3 <3 #if recs #lee plays dashingdon demos #personal.txt #mod lee speaks stuff

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defo-not-sfw · 8 days

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20 Questions for Writers

Thanks for the tag @starfleetwitch you dont mind if I get my lawyer in the room for these do you?

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

*Consults with Lawyer*

Ahem... to my knowledge, there are 4 on Ao3. HAH! Cant catch me that easily old sport!

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

I've been reliably informed its currently 42,037. Is this an interrogation or a friendly chat? Come on come one. Get to it, we all have homes to get back to.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

*Lawyer mumbles something in my ear*

Your honor, I can disclose that I've written for Holby City and Doctor who/ Unit AND NOTHING ELSE!

*Murmuring in the courtroom*

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

According to my carefully maintained and TOTALLY innocent paper work:

We're both adults

What happens at the office party stays at the office party

The Princess's Language lesson

I have a proposal

IN THAT ORDER. Go head, check the data. I'm telling the truth, your honor. Honest as an... honest... thing...

5. Do you respond to comments?

I AM NOTHING BUT INNOCENT AND KIND AND GRACIOUS IN MY COMMENTS.

*bangs the table*

WHAT ARE YOU ACCUSING ME OF HERE?!

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

*panicked murmuring from the lawyer*

Due to the nature of the written documents in question, I've been advised to not mention The Princess's Language lesson

*Sound of a lawyer face palming*

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

We're both adults your honor! It's nothing but pure happiness from start to finish, I SWEAR your honor. I am nothing but a writer of pure fluff and happiness, I've never written anything else in my life WOULDN'T KNOW HOW TO your honor.

*looks down to see the lawyer has written SHUT THE FUCK UP!!! on a piece of paper*

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No your honor. I have a person blocking me from posting certain things but thats a whole separate thing unrelated to this case WHICH YOU'LL HAVE TO GET A WARRANT to question me on. SO THERE!

*Lawyer pulls out a bottle of whiskey and starts necking it*

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

Lawyer:

Me:

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

*Lawyer knows we're fucked now and just straight up leaves*

Oh e...errr.... erm.... Oh god... shit. Fuck. Erm... Just the one published currently... errr... C-c-can I possibly get another lawyer?

*The Princess's Language lesson falls out of my pocket*

SHIT DON'T LOOK AT THAT! ITS ABOUT A FAIRY PRINCESS LEARNING TO SPEAK! ITS SO BORING AND INNOCENT! DONT LOOK AT IT! ITS TOTALLY NOT KATE STEWART ABSOLUTELY WRECKING MALCOM TUCKER FROM THE THICK OF IT! I SWEAR! ITS JUST BORING BABY SHIT ABOUT A PRINCESS AND MAGICAL PONIES! 😭😭😭

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

*Uncontrollable sobbing*

If I did, would that help my case?!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

*Absolute wailing as I wish a bad translation could explain away my sins*

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

*Sobering*

YES! BUT YOU'LL NEVER GET THEIR NAME! I DONT GRASS! SNITCHES GET STITCHES!

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

Kate Stewart WITH LITERALLY ANY FEMALE! No... no wait BERENA! NO WAIT KATE STEWART!!!!! NO BERENA!

FUCK IT! KATE STEWART/ BERENA IF I CAN HAVE ONLY ONE! UNLIKE YOU YOU SICK FUCK I DONT CHOOSE BETWEEN MY FAVS! I LOVE THEM ALL EQUALLY AND HAVE THEM LOVED EQUALLY!

*The Princess's Language lesson falls out of my pocket again*

I SAID DONT FUCKING LOOK AT THAT!

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

THATS SUCH A PERSONAL QUESTION AND ITS REALLY NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!

*A fic about Serena wearing a strap falls out of my pocket*

STOP LOOKING AT THE SHIT THATS FALLING OUT OF MY POCKETS YOU WIERDO!

*A Zoe and Frankie locked in a records room WIP and a Jacqui with a tied up EVIL!Kate WIP fall out of my pocket making an awful racket as they roll around the floor like a tin can filled with nails at 3am when you're trying not to wake the house*

Before you say anything... I've never seen those documents in my life. They were CLEARLY planted on me in some CONSPIRACY to paint my character as a writer of FILTH.

I'd like this incident struck from the record please

*A currently 10,000 word WIP thats just PWP Kate/Serena/Bernie also falls out of my pocket*

What even is the point of pockets in women's trousers these days?! CAN'T HOLD SHIT!

16. What are your writing strengths?

*Still recovering and stuffing the wips back into my shallow ass pockets*

Apparently I've written some really decent GAY!straight sex, but I can't tell you why people have said that. I have NEVER written smut in my life!

*The Princess's Language lesson falls out of my pocket again*

I'm gonna mc fuckin' loose it in a second

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

*Trying not to cry again*

Finishing things. Posting things I HAVE finished. Getting my creations past the person I mentioned earlier that blocks me from posting shit. Again fuck you though, you need to open up a whole new court case to get me to talk about that.

SNITCHES. GET. STITCHES. Your honor.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Please be clear on your questions, your honor. I'm clearly struggling here. I dont know what this means. Is this a controversial point? Do people in general have opinions on characters using their own language at times?

19. First fandom you wrote for?

You honor. I come to you on my knees a shattered shell of a human being. I am a broken horse. Please dont rub salt in my wounds that I completed straight smut before I completed gay smut and just accept that it was an unspecified part of the Jemma Redgrave cinematic universe.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

We're both adults! I had a very specific writing method for that fic and though it took me a year to complete, I COMPLETED IT and I was happy with the result.

*The Princess's Language lesson falls out of my pocket again*

Lets just... get the tags over and done with. Interrogation over. I feel like I just got RINSED.

@ktlsyrtis @seahorsepencils @colourmestoked04 @akaanonymouth @shippingsincebeforeyouwereborn @lapalfruity @kowarth @backjustforberena

#Petition to make women's pockets deeper #ask me anything #berena #bernie wolfe #serena campbell #Doctor who #malcom tucker #the thick of it #kate stewart #kate lethbridge stewart

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