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lincolndjarin · 10 months

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Best Kept Secret

chapter ten : lunar interlude : briikase gote'tuur (RE-UPLOAD)

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 4.1k

summary : reader and the mandalorian celebrate a birthday

warnings, etc. : language, angst, p in v sex, smut

A/N : i had to change accounts so this is a re-upload of my ongoing fic bks!!

He’s grateful for the break from you, even if brief.

That’s not to say that he doesn’t enjoy every moment he gets to be in your presence but the more time he spends with you the harder it gets to remember that this isn’t real.

Lines are starting to blur and he’s been allowing himself too much leniency in this little fantasy of his. He fetches you a glass of water before returning, catching a glimpse of your personal servant leaving the library.

He’s not a fan of Leodall.

Not for any particular reason, he’s just odd. For a while he considered it to be jealousy, of another man working in such close proximity to you but that shouldn’t bother him to begin with.

You’re married.

He’s not allowed to be jealous of anything.

Leodall doesn’t seem to be a fan of him either so it doesn’t really matter. But he’s always there. Lingering. Which is something to worry about when you’re trying to keep secrets. So when he sees Leodall fleeing the library rather swiftly with a piece of paper tucked into his palm of course he has to do something about it.

He could be gentler. He should be. But he’s fully going on instinct when he slams Leo against the wall.

“Whatcha got there?” It’s effortless. To switch back on the hunter instincts, his voice turns that familiar low tone as his fingers easily snatch the paper from the Twi’lek.

The last thing he needs is this guy delivering some kind of message revealing what the two of you have been doing.

“Sir… that’s just a few things she asked-”

He’s already stopped listening. Unfolding the parchment he sees your familiar handwriting.

dinner, skipped lunch bring enough for seconds

cake, simple flavor, maybe vanilla NOT TOO SWEET

candles

wine

What?

It’s just a list, nothing on it raises any red flags so he hands it back to Leo. Without another word he’s opening the doors to the library and handing you the glass. Watching as you sip at it before holding it out to him.

You always think of him.

All of this would be so much easier if you were less considerate.

He shakes his head no and waits to see if you’ll bring up the list but you never do. You’re almost a little too nonchalant all things considered as you pick up your book and resume as if nothing just happened. As if you weren’t just begging him for an orgasm. He takes his usual seat on the chair across from you, keeping his visor trained on you.

He likes watching you read, when you’re actually reading and not pretending. Your face is always so expressive, telling a story of its own as he watches eagerly. Do you know that he’s smiling under the Beskar? He hopes so.

You look happier now. He likes knowing that he did that, likes knowing that you crave him as much as he craves you. He had woken up with a desire for you and in a pathetic attempt to seduce you, had made an ass of himself with some over the top compliments and kindnesses. Of course you had seen through that, you were too smart not to.

Why do you have to be so smart? And kind, and beautiful, and just so you?

He had been an idiot. Trying to convince himself that a taste of you would satiate him, it only made him need you more. It’s somehow a far more wretched fate. Knowing now just how good you can be and knowing that you’ll never truly be his.

You have made something new of him.

He has always had a dominant side, no sense denying that, but with you it’s different. Your presence alone has awakened something new. A carnal, animalistic need to consume whatever you are willing to give him. Everytime he touches you he has to fight the urge to call you his own.

Because you aren’t.

He spends the rest of the afternoon reminding himself of that fact. Anytime he lets his mind wander towards a fantasy of anything real he recalls that simple fact. You are married. He is “stress relief” to you, something to take care of your needs, nothing else. And maybe that’s okay, he’d rather have a piece of you than none of you. It would only be unbearable if you felt the same way he did. Wanting more. It’s currently only manageable for him because it’s one sided.

Maybe he can live like this.

Pining after you. Always offering you romantic gestures, showing you how you should be treated. And you, going to your weekly dinners with that slob you call a husband, and eventually raising a family with him.

“I’m getting a little tired… could you escort me back to my chambers?” Your voice breaks through his train of thought. You’ve got that smile that you get when you’re scheming as you stand and make a beeline towards the door. He manages a nod as he follows behind you.

The castle is nice like this, at sunset. Dark, lamp light flickering on the stone walls. And you, the yellow and orange tint of everything reflecting off that dress. There’s something intoxicating about when you wear green.

He lets himself truly indulge in his daydreams when you wear it. That you do it for him, like you’re his.

Would you want to go again before he leaves? Is that why you’ve got that grin? Maker he hopes so, it’s only been a few hours but he would happily service you again. You stop in front of your door and turn to him, there’s a glint of something in your eyes that he can’t place.

“I have a surprise for you. I need you to wait out here.”

Gods, he doesn’t deserve you.

“Then here I will wait.” He would do damn near anything for you if it meant you’d keep that smile on your face. He settles his back against the wall as you disappear into your chambers.

He’s already half hard at the thought of you still covered in his cum under your dress. Maybe you’ll let him fuck you like that, still marked by him in one of the few ways he can mark you. He doesn’t get a lot of time to wonder because you’re opening the door and ushering him in. Nothing seems different other than your outfit, you’re wearing a tightly closed robe. So far a good sign but he still isn’t sure what to expect as he enters the room, pretty sure he knows where this is going.

“Okay, this is really cheesy and if you don't want to do it we don’t have too.” You’re nervously fidgeting with the edge of your robe as you say it and he’s getting more confused by the second as you walk over to the closet and hold the door open for him.

Maybe he doesn’t know where this is going.

He only has to take one look inside to figure it out though.

He stands in the doorway of your closet and the first thing he’s drawn to is the pile blankets and pillows against the back wall. Have you been sleeping here? He doesn’t wonder for long because his visor is now trained on everything else. You’ve set out dinner. Two plates of food and two mugs of wine are laid out on the floor but the dead giveaway to what this is is the cake in the middle of everything with a way too big candle pressed into the middle of it, the faint light of the flame flickering along with the glow from the singular lamp propped up on one of the dressers. He turns to stare at you almost in disbelief.

People often think that he is silent for the sake of intimidation. And that was true.

Until he met you.

With you, oftentimes there are just no words.

Your face is turning red at the lack of a response as he watches you picking at your nails.

“It’s stupid, I shouldn’t have done all this… but you said you didn’t keep track of your birthdays and I don’t know, it just made me sort of sad because back home my siblings and I used to always make such a big deal out of birthdays so I thought today could be your birthday. And we can sit back to back so you can eat without me seeing you and if you’re worried about your helmet being off I’ve got a lock on my bedroom door and the closet so no one’s gonna walk in and if that isn’t enough we can turn off the lamp and eat in the dark or I can eat in the bedroom and you can eat in the closet or if this is stupid I can pack up the food for you and you can take it with you and-” You’re babbling on and on anxiously trying to fill the silence and he can’t take it anymore as he wraps his arms around you.

“Thank you.” He can feel the sigh of relief you let out as you return the embrace.

It’s the weirdest thing but he can’t remember ever hugging someone.

Maybe his parents, a long, long time ago. It’s new. He doesn’t want to let you go because he knows that this has drastically changed the dynamic he thought he was building with you.

You did all this.

For him.

And he’s so fucked.

Because this is more than you using him for stress relief. This breaks rules. Rules that you had insisted upon. Maker, he never even cared about the rules.

He would break every rule if you’d let him. Treat you the way you deserve to be treated, he would show you what a marriage is supposed to be. You’d never have to use him for stress relief because he’d keep you satisfied and happy. Truly happy. He’d even take off the helmet for you. Someday, after making you his and himself yours. He’d kiss you, as much and as often as you’d let him. He would have kissed you that first night you let him touch you if you hadn’t specifically made a point that he couldn’t. He’d give you children if that’s what you wanted. He’d spend every night with you, making sure that you’re never without him, he would let everyone know you were his. Not running off to some pleasure house and humiliating you like that pig of a husband of yours. And he wouldn’t have to change a thing to break that last rule.

He broke it the first time you spoke to him.

He knows that now.

He has broken it everyday since because he has loved you as long as he has known you and he had resigned himself to that life. A life where he got brief glimpses of you. You would be everything to him and to you he would just be a protector.

But then you did this.

For him.

With this one act of affection you’ve changed everything.

You’ve ruined everything.

Because he can’t act like this is just sex for you anymore. You wouldn’t do all this. Not if it was just sex.

He doesn’t want to let go.

Because in a harrowing turn of events he knows that you have shifted his short lived plans to love you from afar for as long as you’d let him.

But he isn’t perfect after all. He is just a man. That’s what he tells himself as he takes your hand and pulls you into the closet, closing the door behind the two of you and sitting.

Back to back.

“I promise not to look.” You sound so happy. Pleased with yourself that this is working out.

“I know you won’t.” It’s true. He has never felt trust that someone won’t try and look until you and without hesitation he clicks loose the airlock and sets his helmet to the side.

It’s maybe the most intimate thing he’s done with a person as the two of you eat in silence. He eats quickly, feeling the familiar creeping anxiety that comes from being without his helmet for long periods of time.

Once he goes to lift it to return it to its rightful place he hears you make a sound of protest.

“Wait! You have to blow out the candle first and make a wish.” He watches as she slides it towards him. It’s simple, white frosting with a few berries on top of it, the large candle dripping a bit of wax onto the center as he leans down and blows it out before locking his helmet back on. “What did you wish for?” He can feel you leaning back against him as you ask.

He wishes you hadn’t done this.

“I can’t tell you. It’s supposed to be a secret.” He’s grateful to be back in the safety of his helmet because the modulator hides the way his voice trembles ever so slightly.

“Okay. Is it okay if I turn around? It’s time for your presents.”

He should leave.

He should leave and get on the next ship off of this planet but he can’t even do that because he doesn’t trust anyone to protect you from your husband.

He’s trapped here on this planet just as much as you are.

He should end this right now at the very least.

But he’s not a good man. And he’s selfish. So why not revel in the dream that you are one last time.

“You can turn around.” He feels your weight shift as he says it, at the same time he turns to face you. He isn’t sure what to expect but it definitely isn’t what you’re doing.

You’re holding out one of the plastic lilies you had bought at the market.

“I didn’t have time to get you anything because I only decided it was your birthday a few hours ago. But I thought you could use this to decorate your cabin, and have a little reminder of me there.”

This is fucking brutal.

“Thank you princess.” It rolls off of his tongue so easily that he often forgets he shouldn’t be using it until he’s reminded that it’s a title, not an endearment. He takes it from you before tucking it into a loop on his belt.

“And of course that isn’t your only present.” You're raising your eyebrows suggestively as you untie your robe, sitting up on your knees you toss it aside and reveal a pretty little green satin set. He isn’t sure what to call it. It’s definitely too racy to be considered pajamas but it’s also rather classy.

You’re perfect.

And he is a bad man, who should not touch you right now. He should tell you that he can’t do this anymore. That he will solely be here to protect you from now on. It’s what will be best for both of you.

That’s what he tells himself.

But he knows the truth.

He’s weak.

And you’re perfect.

“I bought this at the markets… I wanted to surprise you. I planned on saving them for a special occasion but honestly what’s more special than a birthday?”

He could live a thousand lifetimes and he would never be a good enough man to deserve you.

You are everything good he has ever known all put into one deadly temptation wrapped in a pretty green bow.

He takes in a deep, shaky breath as he stares at you. The warm glow of the lamp makes you look positively divine. More inviting than anything else ever has been.

Think about what this means.

This becomes a thousand times harder if it’s more than just sex to you. And a thousand times more dangerous. If you were to be discovered, Maker only knows what they’d do to you. He knows what would happen to him. They’d make an example out of him, that’s the kind of man Kodo is. But you, he has already seen how unhappy your husband makes you, he can only imagine the torment he would put you through if he discovered what was happening here.

He needs to do something about this because it’s becoming more complicated by the second but he can’t focus because right now you’re staring at him with that fire he adores in your eyes and you’re wearing that just for him.

He leans forward to pull you into his lap, still sitting on the floor of the closet. Letting his hands just roam your body for a few moments, watching in awe at how you stare into the visor.

Like you see him through it, like you know exactly where his eyes are behind the steel.

✩

Just like everything else tonight, it’s different when he touches you.

He doesn’t tease because as much as he refuses to think about it. He knows deep beneath the layers of steel, and flesh, and bone, that he might not get a chance to see you like this again. He understands exactly what he needs to do. That for the both of you he needs to put a stop to this short lived love affair because he won’t be able to live with the brand new form of suffering you have introduced.

Loving him back.

Maybe you don’t love him today, or tomorrow, or maybe not even for years. But he has a deep and profound understanding of the fact that you will.

And he can’t live with that.

And not even for the reason he should. He should want to end it to spare your feelings, to prevent you from getting hurt over something that could never be. No, his reasons are so much more selfish. He simply couldn’t handle it. Knowing that you love him back would ruin him entirely. He couldn’t live with the fact that you wanted him just as badly and as deeply as he wanted you.

It would fucking kill him. He’s certain of it. To know that’s how you feel and still not have you.

So he’ll end things.

But not now.

Not tonight when you’ve given him this .

Because he’s selfish and weak.

And you’re you.

So he’ll give you every part of him right now. As much as you’re willing to take.

He can see it in your eyes. That you know that something has changed, but he can’t handle seeing that crease between your brows, not tonight. So he brings his hand between your legs, pulling your undergarments off gently and setting them aside before plunging his fingers into you, devouring the way your body reacts to him, the way your chest heaves and your back arches..

He doesn’t speak this time because he doesn’t want to interrupt you in his memories of this. The way he can feel you tense even through the thick material of his gloves as his thumb finds your clit.

He doesn’t taunt you.

He does exactly what he knows you want as he curls his fingers, as he drives you towards an orgasm without you having to ask for it because he wants to see it. He wants it branded into his memory.

It doesn’t take long and pretty quickly you’re trembling in his lap, your hands bracing themselves on his shoulder plates. He keeps his eyes on your face. Positively enamored by the way you bite your lip as you mumble the word “Mando” over and over again. Your eyes look like they’re closed in concentration as he feels you tighten around him and watches as you let your forehead rest on his armor, your mouth opening in a small “O” shape.

He lifts you up slightly to set you onto what he assumes to be your makeshift bed. He wants to ask about it. There’s a million things he wants to ask you about because he wants to know you better than anyone else ever has. He wants to be the only person who gets to know you.

But he’s already being selfish enough so he doesn’t. Instead he busies himself with making you feel as good as possible as he keeps one hand always splayed on your inner thigh, rubbing lazy circles onto your clit with his thumb as you keen softly, his other hand pulling himself out of his trousers as he wastes no time lining himself up at your welcoming hole. You’re always so ready for him. Your cunt weeps for him as he pushes himself into you slowly, working himself down to the base.

He knows you know it’s different.

You’re too smart for your own good. He clocks the look of confusion in your eyes immediately when his hands entwined with yours instead of gripping your waist. When he started tenderly moving inside you instead of his usual play for total domination. Your legs wrap themselves around him as he watches your eyes roll back slightly when he snaps his hips forward again. You grind down against him, your legs locking him against you as you try and get a bit of friction against your clit from the curls at the base of his shaft.

And he lets you.

He doesn’t tease.

He just watches you with bated breath as you stay like that. Impaled on his cock, chasing your own pleasure. He feels like you were made for him, sex had never in his life felt like this, you took him so perfectly. And then you say those words that make his head spin.

“C-can I cum?” He’d give you anything you asked for at this moment as he nods. He’s fascinated by you as you use him, it only takes a few more moments of watching you grind against him before he feels that familiar squeeze, your hands grip his as you unravel before him. He drinks you in with his eyes before he starts moving his hips again, slowly.

“Can you give me one more sarad’ika?” He ever so slightly picked up the pace as he watched your chest bounce with each thrust.

You muddled his brain. Half the time he was with you he couldn’t even remember what language he was speaking. You gave him a meek little nod and he wanted nothing more than to kiss you.

To tear his helmet off.

Abandon his creed.

And kiss you.

But he’s broken enough rules tonight.

So instead he settles on resting his helmet against your shoulder as he slams himself into you. Letting out a low throaty groan as he watches your hands wriggle free of his and go between your legs to touch yourself.

He will never deserve this.

He reminds himself of that with every thrust and with every beautiful moan you let out. He buries the steel of his helmet in your neck as he mumbles to himself.

“Ner kar’taylir darasuum.”

Your free hand is resting on the back of his helmet and he can feel how close you are, he knows he isn’t going to last much longer so he pulls back so you can hear him clearer.

“Cum for me sarad. Please.” He knows he probably sounds a little too desperate but it works because you do, in an instant your head is leaning back and you pull his head against your chest as he barely slips out of you in time to finish on your swollen clit.

He lays there longer than he should but you’re warm and inviting and he knows tomorrow will be different. So why not give you everything tonight. He wraps his arms around you in another embrace as you yawn into his shoulder.

“Happy birthday Mando.” He so fiercely wishes you could see the soft smile that he only has for you.

“Thank you cyar’ika.” He gently pulls himself off of you and finds a cloth to wipe you down with before re-dressing you. Laying you back down in the pile of blankets he swipes a loose strand of hair behind your ear as he sits up.

“Are you leaving?” For the love of gods. Your voice sounds so small at this moment he almost stays.

Almost.

“Yes princess. No sleepovers, remember?” You nod sadly as he traces your jaw with his knuckle. This shouldn’t be so hard. It’s not like he’s never going to see you again. He just isn’t going to see you like this.

Tomorrow he will be your bodyguard. Nothing else.

Because you deserve better than this.

Better than him.

So he stands and he turns off the lamp as he carefully steps over the remaining birthday supplies before opening the closet door, taking in one last sight of you, faintly illuminated by the lights in the main room.

“Don’t forget your flower…” You mumble it as he watches your eyes flutter open to stare at him.

He pats the notch on his belt that it’s in.

“How could I?”

I am no longer doing taglists so follow @lincolndjarinnotifs and turn on notifications to be notified when new chapters are posted !!

#lincolndjarin #the mandalorian #best kept secret #bks #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x you #din dijarin x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #RE UPLOAD #mandalorian smut #din djarin smut

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eksvaized · 3 months

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Part Two [ Previous 〡 Next ]

Ever since the day you stole a cigarette from Ghost, you’ve unwittingly picked up a bad habit. The notion of smoking had never been appealing to you before. Still, there was something about the atmosphere of that one particular night that seemed to have permanently etched itself into your memory…

The morning after your outing with the team, you ran into Ghost again. He was casually propped against the hard surface of the gym wall, his robust form still radiating warmth from the exertion of his recently finished workout. A lit cigarette hung nonchalantly from his smirking lips, the tendrils of smoke gracefully dancing around his face. When he teasingly asked if you wanted one, you found yourself unable to decline.

Part of you was curious - you wanted to give it another try, to see if perhaps, now that you were sober, you might find a different kind of enjoyment in smoking. But the larger part of you, the one you were trying not to acknowledge, found itself mesmerized by Ghost. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. He was clad in a tight shirt that accentuated his chiseled physique and left very little to the imagination. Any excuse to linger in his presence, even if only for a few fleeting moments, was one you were willing to take. Regardless of the fact that your conversation amounted to no more than a handful of words exchanged between puffs of smoke.

Ghost, for his part, seemed to savour these quiet interludes as well. He was the one who kept offering the cigarettes, after all. In an inexplicably compelling way, he seemed to relish the idea that you were permitting him to lead you astray, to corrupt you in some small way—your innocence was being chipped away with each puff.

Often he made a show of it, too, holding onto the cigarette a little too tightly, forcing you to grasp his wrist in order to pry it from his fingers. His attention would then shift to your lips, watching as they closed around the small, white cylinder. His imagination would run wild, conjuring up images of how you might look on your knees, those soft, plump lips of yours wrapped around him, his fingers tangled in your hair. He would observe you inhaling. His gaze never wavering, never making any attempt to disguise his interest as his eyes would trail down to your chest, watching as it rose and fell rhythmically with each exhalation.

Captivated by the labyrinth of his own thoughts and entranced in his own fantasies, it took him a long time to see that you were utterly perplexed and inexperienced in the art of smoking.

“Are you even inhaling the smoke? ‘Cos from where I am, I’m pretty sure you’re just holding it in your mouth,” Ghost said, arching his brows up.

Your cheeks flushed a rosy hue, the cigarette still delicately positioned between your fingers. The two of you found yourselves comfortably seated on the stone-cold steps, at a distance from the bustle of others. He shifted closer to you, his hand reaching out and extricating the burning cigarette from your grasp.

“Hey, it’s still my turn,” you protested lightly, playfully bumping him with your shoulder.

“If you want to smoke, at least let me show you the proper way to do it,” Ghost replied, rolling his eyes. His index fingers hooked under your chin, and he titled your head, making you look at him. Then he placed the cigarette to his lips and inhaled deeply, holding the smoke within the confines of his lungs for a moment before turning his head to the side and exhaling.

He passed the cigarette back to you, but didn’t scoot back. You tried to replicate his actions, only to be met with a harsh cough and a burning sensation in your lungs, as if you’d swallowed a piece of hot coal. After calming yourself, you attempted it once more, managing slightly better, but the cough surfaced again, forcing you to slump down and instinctively grab Ghost’s thigh.

His gaze darted to his leg and then to your hand, observing your fingers as they clung onto his thigh, holding onto the fabric of his pants. A fleeting desire, swift and sharp as a shooting star, pierced through him, urging him to guide your hand just a tad higher. However, before his thoughts could spiral any further, the sound of your voice brought him back from the precipice of his fantasies.

“Okay, fine. You were right. I wasn’t inhaling it into my lungs,” you admitted, a hint of defeat in your tone.

Upon realizing where your hand had instinctively landed, you moved it away. You made a conscious effort not to look down at it as you slowly retracted your palm back to your lap, trying to feign nonchalance, as if your fingers hadn’t been digging into his flesh just moments ago.

“Seems I’ve been casting my cigarettes into the wind for nearly a week,” he teased. “If you wanted to hang out with me, you could have just told me so instead of wasting my smokes.” His tone was playful, yet it held an undercurrent of curiosity.

Suddenly, your conversation halted, as if the universe itself held its breath. An ocean of silence drowned both of you, and your eyes locked onto each other. You blinked. The intensity of his gaze was like the sun, forcing you to look away. Your attention was drawn to his lips. You had grown so accustomed to seeing him masked that every time he unveiled even a small portion of his face; you found yourself unable to look away.

With a heart pounding like a drummer's rhythm, you could hear the rush of blood in your ears as you realized you wanted to kiss him.

Reluctantly, you lifted your gaze, as if breaking the surface of a deep, tranquil pond. Your eyes met Ghost’s penetrating stare, his eyes as unfathomable and enticing as a midnight abyss. You found yourself drawn into their depths, searching for something within them - a subtle signal, perhaps - that what you were experiencing wasn’t merely a one-sided infatuation. That he, too, wanted to taste your lips as much as you wished to devour his.

The tension between you was escalating rapidly, like a flame licking the edge of a dry parchment. The silence that hung in the air was turning unbearable, yet neither of you dared to break it. Ghost, in his characteristic obstinacy, chose to overlook the way your eyes lingered on him. He stubbornly dismissed the evident signs of your affection, letting the silent showdown between you two stretch on for an uncomfortably long duration, much like an unending, eerie echo in a hollow cavern.

Summoning all your courage, you took a deep breath. If Ghost wasn’t going to seize the opportunity and make the first move, then you resolved to take the initiative. As you started leaning in, carefully and slowly, wanting to savour this electrifying moment for as long as possible in case he decided to push you away, an all too familiar voice echoed in the vicinity. Ghost immediately recoiled, his gaze darting around as he tried to locate the source of the interruption.

Soap.

It was almost impossible not to feel a surge of irritation. Soap, as endearing as he generally was, had unknowingly sabotaged your first, and quite possibly the only, opportunity to kiss Ghost. A moment that could have been the catalyst to finally surrender to the emotions you both had been concealing.

Instantly, your mind began to spiral into overthinking.

What if this moment was the only window of opportunity that would ever present itself?

The thought was tormenting, and it echoed in your head, amplifying your anxiety. It grew, like a shadow stretching with the setting sun, into a formidable specter that haunted your sleep that night. And the bitter irony was that despite the emotional turmoil, the status quo remained. You and Ghost were still in that frustratingly ambiguous territory of being... nothing more, nothing less. Just friends.

#simon riley x reader #writing #simon ghost riley #call of duty #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #cod #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost cod #cod x reader #cod fanfic #cod ghost #justfriends #fem!reader #ao3 fanfic #fanfic

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canmom · 2 months

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reading Brainwyrms by Alison Rumfitt. it's interesting. clearly part of the post-Topside wave of trans lit, with the same 'plugged in to twitter' energy, but way more British about it. which means most of the allusions are very transparent to me. it's a combo of... hardcore kink driven romance as the main arc, in a near-future setting in which TERFism goes further to the point of outright bombings, and a scifi element with alien brain parasites that it's gradually building towards.

compellingly written, I'll give it that for sure - I lay down to read for a bit and before I knew it I'd read like a third of the book. the main character's disaffected, traumatised air is well observed, and the kink doesn't hold back.

I think my reservation with it so far is that it feels a little too much like a polemic blog post about the way things are going. the MC Frankie is a trans woman with a pregnancy kink who survived a bombing at a GIC and now works in social media moderation - it's all stuff that is blatantly Relevant To The Argument, as it were. it's tricky to criticise it for that because it's like, what you're saying is that it's tightly constructed and thematically consistent and that's bad somehow? but I think I've come to feel that I like fiction to bring me something a little new and unfamiliar.

the chapter I most enjoyed so far was actually a more metaphorical, abstract interlude, in which resistance to fascism is cast as becoming 'one mass of queer flesh, which now grabbed and clawed...'; 'faces locked in kisses until they became one face. the cops would try to pull at this mass, but to no avail'. very 'faggots and their friends between revolutions' stuff.

the chapters which are presented directly as social media posts and articles are also sharply observed. i think a lot of fiction in which the internet features heavily suffers from not understanding the internet very well (Hosoda's Belle for example), but for example the chapter 'Curious Cat' where an anonymous person (blatantly Vanya) is sending messages asking for help with a parasite, and getting rebuffed or misunderstood, and the chapter where Frankie relates a murder of an instagram model by a stalker who posts about it to a reddit community devoted to her, read as very real.

a lot of the story is about responding to a terrifying political situation in sexual terms - a flashback chapter depicting Frankie having sex with some terf's pretentious brother ("with each thrust from him, she thought to herself, I am a traitor, I am a traitor to the cause"), or the preface which jokes about how in another world the author would be writing 'cool horror stories about vampires raping werewolves, ones with no subtext at all'. I prevaricate a little on whether this is a compelling examination of a theme that I do find interesting (the mysterious origins of sexual desire) or just edgy for its own sake.

this is an odd novel for me in some ways because while on one level, this is about people who I could very easily be a single degree of separation from were they real, it's also about a facet of life that is still quite alien to me and in many ways I only know about second hand. I've never been to a kink club (that wasn't in an MMO anyway lol), I'm way too much of a nerdy autist shut-in to know what it's like to be someone who would feel put out if she hadn't had sex in a week. so even before the parasite stuff, it's hard to know how much of Frankie and Vanya's stuff is real, and how much is fantasy. is this really how things go between people? it sounds kinda fun, but unlocking the door this far has already taken years.

when I've read books about the crazy lives that American trans girls supposedly live and interesting sex they're apparently having, they've been at a certain remove, the other side of the Atlantic. and this book feels sort of similar, even though I know it's set right on my doorstep. idk, I've never been good at this.

anyway I don't think I want to write fantasy novels so directly about The Discourse of the day, but it's probably good that someone is. that said, it's hard to parse like... ok, it's titled brainwyrms, and 'brain worms' is a common way of describing an obsessive, cultish idea you receive from the internet.

and like if you look at the newspapers, or twitter trans discourse, you certainly could believe that this country is on a rapid slide to putting us in camps. however, my day to day life has been... it's not without hostility, but the average street harasser isn't doing it because of a Guardian or even Mail article. this country has a subculture of deranged weirdos who hate our guts, and a political class who will happily stoke culture war shit to score points, but most normies I've met don't care one way or another that I'm trans - they might mention a family member or friend they know who's also trans. the day to day conflicts are over way more prosaic shit, the landlord vs tenant forever war, or how the kitchen should be cleaned. which of these windows is more informative of the 'overall' state of affairs? not that a more violent terf cult is a bad premise to write a novel around, but a sense of impending doom is a pretty powerful mechanism to keep you scrolling, right?

like in 20, 40 years - will the terfs really be bombing the Tavistock and banning transness, as Rumfitt imagines in her near-future setting preface? or will they go the way of those newspapers in Thatcher's time who smeared the gay movement, just as they smear us today? of passing political obsessions like 'new atheism'? I don't know the half-life of cult shit.

anyway, time to read the rest of the novel, and see how it handles this brew that it's concocted.

#fiction #sff #novels

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wrishwrosh · 5 months

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re: tags on labor in historical fiction post, would be very interested to hear what the four examples you mentioned are!!

ok u know what that tag WAS bait, thank you for taking it. technically speaking these aren't works dealing strictly with labor in historical fiction, they are my four treasured examples of BUREAUCRAT FICTION (so not NOT about labor in history?) i was gonna try to make this post pithy and short but then i remembered how extremely passionate i am about this microgenre i made up. so sorry.

bureaucrat fiction is not limited by genre or format but criteria for inclusion are as follows: long and detour-filled story about functionary on the outside of society finding unexpected success within a ponderously large and powerful System/exploring themes of class and physicality and work and autonomy and what it means to hold power over others beneath the heartless crushing wheels of empire/sad little man does paperwork. also typically long as hell. should include at least one scene where the protagonist is unironically applauded-perhaps for the first time in their life-for filling out a form really good. without further ado:

soldier's heart by alex51324. the bureaucracy: british army medical corps during wwi. the bureacrat: mean gay footman/new ramc recruit thomas barrow. YEAH it's a downton abbey fic YEAH it's a masterpiece. i've talked about it before at length, my love has not faded. the crowning moment of bureaucracy is a long interlude where thomas optimizes the hospital laundry (this actually happens twice or maybe three times)

hands of the emperor by victoria goddard. the bureaucracy: crumbling fantasy empire some time after magical apocalypse. the bureacrat: passionate late-career clerk from the hinterlands cliopher mdang. i reread this book every winter bc it is as a warm bath for my SAD-addled brain and every time i neglect all my responsibilities to read all nine billion pages in three days. it puts abt 93% of the worldbuilding momentum into elaborating all of the ministries and secretaries and audits necessary to run a global government and like 7% into the magic and stuff. there are also several charming companion novellas and an equally long sequel that dives more into the central relationship between cliopher and the emperor which i highly recommend if you like gentle old man yaoi and/or magic, but there's more bureaucracy in HOTE.

the cromwell trilogy by hilary mantel. the bureaucracy: court of henry viii. the bureaucrat: thomas cromwell, the real guy. curveball! it's critically acclaimed booker prize winning rpf novel wolf hall! mantel is really interested in particular ways of gaining and maintaining power in delicate and labyrinthine systems like the tudor court, specifically in strongmen who use both physical intimidation and metaphysical manipulation to succeed. under these conditions i do think my best friend long-dead historical personage thomas cromwell counts as Bureaucrat Fiction (as do danton and robespierre in a place of greater safety. bonus rec.)

going postal by terry pratchett. the bureaucracy: fantasy postal service of ankh-morpork. the bureaucrat: conman, scammer, and little freak moist von lipwig. this is definitely shorter and lighter than the other three entries on the list, sort of a screwball take on the bureaucrat. but the mail is such a classic bureaucracy thing? who doesn't love thinking about the mail? also contains a key genre element which is a fraught sexual tension with the person immediately above the protagonist in their hierarchy, who is also their god-king and boyfriend-dad. you can't tell me vetinari isn't torturing moist psychologically AND sexually.

anyway sorry about all this. if you've read any of these come talk to me about them. bureaucrat fiction recs welcomed with the openest possible arms.

#this post was very challenging to write bc i cannot spell the word bureaucracy to save my life. EVERY time i forget where the U goes #long post #asks #bureacracy. beaureaucracy. bereaucracy. fuck french

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theresattrpgforthat · 2 months

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Hello! I’m sorry if you’ve answered this already, but do you have any recs (or anything you want to say for fun) about games with multiple GMs?

Theme: Multiple GMs

Hello friend, I may have recommended games similar to this but I don't know if I've actually fulfilled this prompt before! I'll do my best to show you some interesting games, and you can check out previous posts at the bottom in case there's something there that fits your tastes more.

Questlandia: Second Edition, by Turtlebun.

In Questlandia, you and your friends will invent a world from scratch. It might be fantastic or bizarre, from a remembered past or imagined future.You’ll paint a picture of your society and its people, their laws and customs, how they live and how they dream.

But your society is failing. As you play, your characters will attempt to find beauty and purpose amidst the chaos of a changing world.

Questlandia is a tabletop roleplaying game that creates fantastical worlds in states of change. It may be medieval fantasy in a ghost-haunted kingdom, neo-noir in a roboticized undercity, or microscopic slipstream suburbia in a puddle. The possible settings are boundless, but will always come from the interests of those at the table. Bring in real-world themes that intrigue you, references that inspire you, worldbuilding that follows your curiosity.

Questlandia uses dice and cards to help you create a society, as well as your character’s role in that society. I think this is a good example of a game where every person is a character, but every player is also a GM. You’ll roll against each-other to determine whether or not your society will be able to overcome their troubles. Overall, I think Questlandia is great for telling a story that spans a number of factions or nations.

Pantheon, by harpoon_gun.

4-6 GMs, who are distant Gods with their own desires and needs, and up to 3 players, champions of the Gods who are being forced to do their chores. Take turns toying with the champions, screwing over the other Gods, and building relationships of both the positive and negative variety.

All I know about this game is what I can divine from the description, but I would hazard a guess that much of this gameplay is going to feel a little bit like PvP. The gods that your GMs are embodying will have conflicting goals and desires, so expect to run into a lot of backbiting and backstabbing. The game itself was designed for the Bad TTRPGS Jam, which encouraged designers to fuck around with rules and see where it got them. So no guarantees for a balanced game here - but maybe an interesting experiment!

Fool’s Errand, by Myles Wirth.

You are a group of questants, pledged to a seemingly-impossible task. You must set out alone into the world, each following your own path by which the quest might be fulfilled. They will be long and difficult journeys, with no guarantee of success.

Inspired by legends and travelogues, Fool's Errand is a single-page tabletop game about perseverance in the face of uncertainty and the joy of worldbuilding together. It is prepless, gm-less, setting-agnostic, and can be played on its own or as a setup or interlude for another game. Rather than flattening Player-GM distinctions entirely, it inverts the traditional balance of a ttrpg table; players take turns as "seekers", individual characters traversing the world in search of an impossible goal, while the rest of the table forms the "Chorus", building and refining the world around the seeker as they explore it.

Fools’ Errand asks you to make some travellers and give them a quest that they cannot achieve. The game occurs over a series of turns; on your turn you’ll control your Seeker and declare what you want to do. The rest of the table becomes the Chorus, and build the Location that Seeker is in. The Seeker may then attempt to convince the Chorus that the way in which they will attempt to solve the problem is something they would be good at; and then rolls 3d6. Your result may grant you a Boon or a Burden, which may draw you closer to or pull you farther from your character’s goal. Your characters also have a Resolve pool, which will diminish over the course of play.

I think success is still technically possible in this game, but it’s highly unlikely. What is more likely is that characters will slowly give up on their quest, and join the Chorus in telling the story of who remains.

Bleak Spirit, by potatocubed.

Bleak Spirit is a storytelling game where you and your friends create a brooding, cryptic tale about a stranger in a strange land. Everything is falling apart, crumbling, corrupted, and the wanderer carries the potential for a return to past glories – or the power to sweep away all that remains.

Everyone contributes to the tale, sharing the sense of mystery that comes from no-one knowing the entire truth of what's going on. Everyone takes turns being the world for a scene, introducing lore which hints at the history of the setting. After every scene everyone leaps to conclusions based on the lore which has been revealed – and these conclusions affect the sorts of lore they will introduce when it's their turn to be the world.

Bleak Spirit is meant to replicate the narrative beats of Dark Souls, Hollow Knight, and Bloodborne. It gives everyone at the table a chance to play the Wanderer, a chance to play the World - and a chance to sit as part of the Chorus. The game is very structured, which I think helps the table keep on track, since everyone is going to have a chance to contribute to the story. The Wanderer dictates the character’s actions, but never their internal thought or feelings. The World creates Areas and Locations that the Wanderer will visit. The Chorus will introduce themes, descriptions, and motifs that are meant to make the world full of grandeur, mystique and decay.

This is a game that you might be interested if you like melancholic tones, large gaps in historical knowledge, and collaborative world building. The creator has also created a Cat version of this game, called Cat Spirit!

Two Weeks One Summer, by Rick Cockram.

In Two Weeks One Summer the players take the role of a family visiting a rambling old house in the woods during a summer holiday. The game focusses on the activities of the children of the family as they explore the house, it's grounds and the surrounding woodland. It is a game about finding things to do, creating your own excitement and exploring an unfamiliar environment.

This game divides the participants into two roles: the Children and the Grown-Ups. Over the course of the game, each of these roles will contribute different things to the description of the house, and the events that happen as you stay here. I think this works well for a slice-of life game, but it also might be an interesting source of inspiration for telling stories that are more dramatic or fantastical.

I'd Also Recommend Checking Out...

Co-Optional Games Rec Post

Unique Player Responsibilities / Rotating GMs

Asymmetrical Games Rec Post

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #game recommendations #dnd #asks #multiple gms

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intrawebs · 9 months

Text

A list of misc. Hermitcraft/Life Series fics from someone who loves AUs

There is no smut on this list

❤️ = Angst 💜 = Fluff 💛 = Fic I recently added

No Romance and Romance Optional

❤️Hermit Hybrids (In Progress Series) by Flickersprout - "Loosely connected fantasy AU with background dystopian elements. Mostly exploring the Hermits as a magic found family and all their different ways of being nonhuman." Can be read in any order! I'd suggest starting with The Colors of Friendship cause it's the earliest chronologically, ZombieCleo's great, and it's a good introduction to the world.

❤️the sanctity of the mundane (Completed Series) by crabbunch - “Snippets of life on the Double Life server; mundanity can reveal the most interesting things about people, after all.” This series makes me crazy. The only happy pairs are Boat Boys and Ranchers hell yeah

From the Archives (Completed Series) by Sixteenthdays and zeph - “A collection of statements from the archives of the Void Institute.” A Hermitcraft/Life Series Magnus Archives AU with Grian as the Head Archivist and Pearl, Mumbo, Scar, and Impulse as his assistants. Can be read with no knowledge of the Magnus Archives.

Interlude From Another Reality: Peacock's Eye by Sixteenthdays and zeph - “‘My assistant,’ announced Scar Goodtimes, newly-promoted Head Archivist of the Peacock's-Eye Institute, to nobody in particular except maybe the paused audio recording software on his laptop, or perhaps the small pile of tape recorders his predecessor'd left piled on a shelf in the corner, or arguably the little peacock-feather eye logo that dotted the office as haphazardly as it did the entire Institute, ‘is weird.’

(In which Scar is Grian's Archivist, and Grian is Scar's assistant.)” Sort of an AU of the Magnus Archives AU? Haha. But it’s completely divorced from the canon and can definitely be read stand alone.

❤️Shining and Polished (But Never to Plan) by SaltyServal - “A cough makes Grian freeze in his tracks, shakes him to his core. Despite all the signs, of all the things he was expecting to find in this cave, a truly sentient creature was not one of them. That’s what scares him the most.

He turns, grabbing his dagger and pointing it at the newcomer, who simply smiles at him, fangs and all.

‘Why hello there.’

tldr; Grian is an avian desperate to keep his wings, and he'll do whatever it takes to save himself. Even if it means stealing from a dragon.

(It turns out there's more to the dragon then he thought).” A fantasy AU with bird!Grian and dragon!Scar

oh captain (let's make a deal) by birrdie - “No one on these shores knew Scar’s name. Aside from Tango, of course. No one feared the humble, white-sailed ship docked on the south side of the port. This, like the tides, would eventually change with time. They would know his name soon enough. The greatest pirates all rose from humble beginnings like a phoenix from ashes. Scar was no different from them; that much he was sure of. And it would not take him long to prove it.

Or; Scar is a Captain of a humble pirate crew of one. That is, until a discovery on the shore shakes things up a bit.” A heaping helping of greedy pirate Scar and mysterious crewmate Grian, with evil Boat Boys and innocent Solidaritek as a garnish.

❤️starry eyes stare through me by whatcaniwriteinthis - "'You know,' he says. 'Gotta have a good show: high stakes, violence—' He nods at the room, at the 24 children learning how to use weapons, how to start a fire, how to find food that won’t kill them.

'An unlikely allyship,' Scar finishes, smiling a little. Grian smirks back.

–

Grian is this year's male tribute from District 9. Clearly, the odds are already not in his favor. But he has to get home to his sister and to do that he has to play the Games. Give them a show. Stay alive. Remember to step out of line is to threaten Pearl. Don't get too attached to the Career that agrees to be his ally, but not to put a damn shirt on." Angst without a happy ending. Made me cry

❤️Stained Glass Sunlight (In Progress Series) by Cosmic_Retribution - “The Watchers had seemed so nice, is the thing. So… disarmingly hospitable.

When they’d set out for the ruins, they’d gone in search of some magical beasts reportedly plaguing the area, according to the flyer they’d taken. What they’d found instead was an empty city and a group of mages and scholars studying… something. They’d been cagey about what. Certainly not the history of the place— the Watchers arrived long after the fall of Dogwarts, content to live and work inside the city’s corpse with no special reverence for the grave it lay ruined in. They had no stake in its fall, or its future, or the preservation of its once-hallowed legacy— but its bones, certainly, served as protection enough for their studies.

The beasts were the only thing troubling the Watchers’ work, or so they’d said. Strange, then, that Grian and his party never once saw a trace of them.

How long after, until his friends realized Grian was gone? That they weren’t safe?

—

Two decades ago, the city of Dogwarts met its demise. Today, a traveler meets god wearing the mask of a merchant, looking for a miracle.

These two things are not as unconnected as they appear.” Grian and Scar’s version of the lamplight AU(below). Featuring bored god Scar and oblivious paladin Grian.

Lamplight (In Progress Series) by skelew - “Welcome to Lamplight, a DnD/Fantasy Third/Last Life Renchanting AU. Ren is a god stuck in the form of living fire. Martyn is his sole follower. Martyn and Ren help free one another from imprisonment by the Watchers and are now traveling the world on a two-man adventure of fond companionship and occasional arson.” There’s angst but really just in the first fic. The main series has no shipping but skelew has written some treebark one shots that are also in the collection.

❤️dandelion wishing by skelew - “The white lily is known to symbolize purity, innocence. It is also a symbol of mourning, a popular choice to decorate the casket at a funeral. This is due to their beauty, yes, as well as the fact their smell can cover up the scent of a decaying body. Dandelions are best known for their magic, but no dandelion survives a wish.

The King of Dogwarts is not dead.” A Martyn and Ren centric fic about coming back from the dead.

❤️Wooden Mausoleum by skelew - “‘To take the life of one you love an agony Martyn understands far too well. It’s not something he’d wish on anyone—not on his worst enemy, and certainly not on his dearest friends.

Least of all would he wish it on Ren.’

Or, for the Red King, there are fates worse than death. How fortunate he is that his Hand will never let him meet them.” Dogwarts makes it to the end of 3rd Life but Martyn has a betrayal arc.

💜Performance Evaluations by glossyblue - “From The Desk Of His Majesty’s Most Private Of Areas: A True And Accurate Evaluation Of Growth Opportunities For The Knights Of The Square Table, The Loyal Court of Ren the King, As Suggested By The HR Department. (Note to self: when did we acquire an HR department? Ask Bdubs.)” Super cute and funny performance evaluations of the knights from the King Ren Hermitcraft arc.

The H.T.G.Y. Files by glossyblue - "Research scientist Cub didn't intend to make a person. He just came up with the plans. But when a competing team looking to make a supersoldier gets hold of the genome he invented, Cub is pulled in to stop them screwing up—and whatever he expected to find, it wasn't someone like Scar." This is part of a series called Lab Escape but the other fic has a ship that's not in this list so I can't put it in. But I really recommend the whole series!

💜The Government Institute for Ghost Supervision (G.I.G.S.) by glossyblue - “HIGHLY SENSITIVE: G.I.G.S CLASSIFIED. Audio logs for a team of supernatural agents investigating reports of a ghost at a local high school.GRIAN: Yeah, Skizz, why did you let Scar set something on fire? Pretty irresponsible.

SKIZZ: [noise of incoherent outrage] You try stopping him, buddy.” Goofy GIGS story

fixed and dilated by iamsolarflare - “Anything waterdwelling knows from bait.

---

Or: xBCrafted deals with the people around him, and a secret he's been keeping for one hell of a long time. Not the ‘old enemies hunting him down’ type, no - this should be fine, as long as nobody pries. It's the way you should deal with secrets like this, really, just don't let people know. No questions, no answers.

Hypno never got that memo, apparently.” An xB and Hypno fic where neither are human and neither wants to talk about it. Even if you don’t watch them I recommend it.

on the getaway mile by Odaigahara - “‘You want me to do what?’ the civilian asked disbelievingly, and Scar’s body language shifted to that of an impatient trainer, one whose fuse was running short. It was a precursor to bad things, like being tased or forced onto a treadmill for hours; Mumbo flinched even knowing it was an act, and the civilian cut off with a squeak, so Mumbo knew he felt the same way.

Or possibly that was the gun. Scar having a gun seemed more likely as an explanation, now that Mumbo thought of it.

Stealing the car would be better, but they had no idea where they were going, and neither of them was familiar with road laws. What if they hit a person while driving? What if there was some sort of kill switch in the car that the owner could flip to blow it up with them inside? Anti-villain tech had to be wild, from what the Foundation had on hand– and they were villains now for sure. Not just for defying the Foundation, but for this. Heroes didn’t take the actions he and Scar were taking.” Heroes Villains Scar and Mumbo take civilian Grian hostage for a road trip! It's not as bad as it sounds

counterclock by scarabies - “When it’s over, Impulse finds him in the throne room.

(or, Bdubs and Impulse chat after a rebellion ends. Can be read as either platonic or romantic.)”

Scarian

💛💜Tangotek Evil Incorporated by onawhimsicot - “As the supervillain Dr. Blaze, Tango has a fondness for oddly named "ificators" and stylistic flair. He spends his days trying to take over the city, shaming superheroes for their basic costume designs, and then sending said heroes home with better equipment that actually matches their aesthetic because clearly, if he wants a cool fight scene to happen, he's got to do everything around here himself.

For some reason, not many people think he’s evil. On the bright side, the superhero Canary, does and has made it his personal mission to bring down Dr. Blaze! But when he suddenly goes missing, Canary's partner, Parrot, is convinced that Tango is at fault. Seeing as this is not true at all (kidnapping is so gauche), Tango is offended that someone is trying to steal his nemesis right from under his nose. If Tango wants to get his nemesis back, he'll have to work together with Parrot to find and rescue Canary from whatever danger he's got himself into this time.

Because, after all, what's a supervillain without a nemesis?” A very fun modified Phineas and Ferb AU with Tango as Doofenshmirtz and Jimmy as Perry the Platypus

❤️coliseum by artanogon - "Grian is on a mission: kill the Red King of the Third Precinct. Unfortunately, when he travels to the capital where the king resides, he lands in a spot of trouble with a local merchant when he accidentally destroys the merchant’s shop. After he enters into a contract to help pay off the damages, he discovers that there might be another side to Scar under the silver-tongued salesman— and that he’s not the only one who wants the Red King dead." This one made me cry. Happy ending but it gets worse before it gets better.

Picture Perfect, Trapped in Eternity by CloudySkyFlight - “Grian's an architecture major in college, minoring in art history, and when the largest, and supposedly most haunted, collection of royal portraits in the world is displayed in a museum only a few hours away from his dorm, he gets up early to go see it.

Scar's been dead for centuries, living in a royal portrait he cursed to hold his memories and soul, waiting for the moment his best friend would come back to him. Several centuries later, he wakes up to see a brunette that has the looks and soul of his friend, and Scar knows that he cannot let Grian leave without him.” Starts out with Scar sort of kidnapping Grian? But the mood quickly lifts from there

and everything is you by eastwards - “‘Oh my gosh. I’ve got paint on your face.’

Grian moved to wipe the paint off, but Scar shook his head, ‘No the other side, here let me-’

He held Grian’s head steady with one hand, the other carefully brushing across his jaw. With an affirming noise, Scar nodded and bid Grian farewell, as he wandered back to his station in the studio. Grian held his hand up to where he had touched him, feeling his head begin to warm. How troublesome.

–

artist au w/ scarian wooo”

somewhere between the surface and the seabed by LovesickPrince - "It's a classic tale of love: Grian, a mer from the depths of the sea, makes a deal with a sea witch to exchange his voice for a pair of legs and go visit the human whose life he had saved. Only in this case, Grian is more interested in the sea witch than the human.

(If only someone had bothered to tell Scar, the sea witch in question, about this divergence)."

💜Dead Heat by glossyblue - “Jimmy's having a meltdown, Ren and Martyn are flirting outrageously, Tango gets cruelly betrayed and Grian and Scar are being unrepentantly weird about each other in every shot. It's the nation's favourite no-holds-barred elimination game. It is, of course, the Great British Bake Off.”

A Certain Je Ne Sais What by glossyblue - “Literally any one of Grian’s friends would be a better soulmate than Scar, and Grian is going to prove this scientifically.

Grian’s already felt it, a pinprick in his thumb. He’s familiar—he’s so painfully, unforgettably familiar—with the way Scar sees something and is already reaching out to touch it before he’s asked questions like 'what is this' and 'is it bad news' and 'is it going to hurt me, Scar, and by extension the unwilling bystander my physical sensations are now linked to'. Scar just immediately reaches out.” Grian tries to convince himself that anyone else would be a better soulmate than Scar while proving that Scar is the best soulmate for him.

❤️wait the worst is yet to come by glossyblue - “‘Grian is smirking at him. ‘I know, Grian, I know,’ Scar says. ‘Trade by name and trade by nature–okay, Scar by name but still trade by nature–we are going to be in business, opening soon, special rates for favorite customers of course–’

‘But have you done it yet,’ says Grian.

‘No?’ Scar says. ‘We only just started.’

Grian bounces on the balls of his feet, delighted. ‘Okay. Okay, okay, so. You need to know how it works, then, don’t you? Kiss me.’” Scar centric Last Life AU where you transfer lives by making out. There’s a sex scene but it’s not smut. Angst without a happy ending.

heart under your sleeve by Anonymous - “Scar was easy to love, as mortifying as that was to think. Grian didn’t think he was in love with the artist, it was far too soon for that, but he knew it would be easy for anyone to love him.

In the back of his mind, he wondered if Scar had met his soulmate, then shook his head to dispel the thought before it could fully form.

“Look, we can’t bring in a live panda, but if you want, we can try and connect with a zoo in the area so that they can set up a live stream of their panda exhibits,” Grian compromised and Scar brightened again. He ignored the sweeping feeling of relief in his chest as he opened his laptop, typing in a quick search for nearby panda exhibits. “Maybe we can even get one of their handlers in to give a talk about pandas.”

“Perfect!” Scar agreed, putting on a bright grin. Grian smiled to himself in turn.

—

Soulmate AU: You are born with a birthmark, similar to a tattoo, that is shared by your soulmate. Grian is a curator for an art museum. Scar is an eccentric artist who is just as attractive as he is infuriating to work with. Everything goes sideways when Grian realizes they're soulmates.”

💜If you like it… by GoodTimesWithScar - “‘Hello,’ slurs Scar, ‘you wouldn’t happen to know where a man such as myself… would find… an eligible bachelor to spend a little bit of time with?’

Grian blinks. ‘Oh, you are plastered.’

or, the ‘you got so drunk you asked your husband if he was single’ trope, but with added mumbo being 100% done with this nonsense.”

💜Well It’s Not Quite Narnia, But- by Raichett - “It’s just past seven in the morning when Grian opens his built-in wardrobe door to find a man dressed in something close to a green and gold matador outfit standing inside.

---

Or: Grian is not giving up this dirt-cheap rent flat for anything, not even the strange (if fun) goings on around the place and the elven king coming in through his closet.”

my ever after / is holding you by LovesickPrince - “Grian has been many things.

A servant of a respected noble family. A survivor, with bruises on his skin and hidden wings tied down to his back. A rebel, sneaking away for a night of wonder in the heart of the kingdom - and a curiosity, gawked at by all as the King himself swept him into his arms and spent hours by his side.

When Scar spent days tracking Grian down and helping him escape the cruel grasp of the Watchers, Grian thought his life couldn’t surprise him anymore. Pledging his life to serve Scar was all he could do to thank his King.

Of course, being the personal servant of the King comes with its' own risks - and now Grian could add ‘hostage’ to his list of titles.

Or; someone decides kidnapping King Scar’s beloved servant was a good idea. It really wasn’t.”

i live in a hologram with you by remrose - “‘Anyone in there would be lucky to be graced with your company.’ Scar told him. His face was calm but at his sides, his hands tightened and knuckles went white.

‘Stop trying to sweet talk me, I've already caught you fleeing.’ Grian stalked another pace forward, eyes alight with mischief and excitement. ‘Where are you going?’” Scar’s bad end in the treesekai AU (which you need to have read to understand).

Treebark

💜love goes toward love as schoolboys from their books (In Progress Series) by GoodTimesWithScar - “treebark theatre kids au, with ren as the male lead and martyn as the very distracted spotlight operator!”

Through the Sky-Blue Cracks (In Progress Series) by Amethystfairy1 - “This is a compilation of all the pieces that take place within my Over-City/Under-City AU, which is also a Hot Guy/Cute Guy Superhero AU, though that's not the only thing that'll be going on!” The first treebark fic is quite a ways down (It’s called Dagger and Rose), but I believe in yalls ability to figure out the setting through context clues.

❤️Sgt. Pepper’s Broken Hearts Club Band by harpydora - “The sign next to the door just reads, ‘Support Group,’ which frankly doesn't leave a great impression for the gathering inside. Martyn double-checks the Facebook event on his phone, but he's unfortunately certain he's in the right place: a support group for people whose soulmates are no longer with them.” The double life broken hearts club in a modern AU.

wild things can't get comfortable by donnerstag - "Ren and Martyn steal what small moments of comfort they can get.

Several loosely-connected scenes from Dogwarts as Ren struggles with his feelings towards the Hand of the King."

Scribbling the lines (from you to me) by Siri_Spy - “Martyn and Cleo are soulmates… but what exactly does that mean for them? And with Martyn starting to fall for the over-the-top president of his RPG club, and Cleo starting to realize that they might be a little late to the ‘disgustingly in love’ phase… something needs to change.

What will that something be? Well don’t look at me, I’m the one who wrote it. Look at yourself, and ask yourself: Why don’t I know?

Exactly. That’s what I’ve been wondering. Anyway, what are you still doing here? Go read!” A really sweet modern AU about Cleo and Martyn.

not the ghost by csillagvizsgalo - “Martyn tags along with his friends on a ghost hunting trip (he has seen people who had weirder hobbies anyways) for fun in an old run-down castle museum that has definitely not been kept properly. It's all fun and games, and he definitely doesn't believe in the supernatural, so it's not scary at all, until he starts noticing things lying around in areas that nobody has been to in ages, that remind him of memories of events that he never experienced, hundreds of years ago. The voices aren't helping. Well, the one Voice.

The Not Ghost of the Castle (he is a very dedicated cosplayer, thank you very much) takes a liking, and possibly some recognition, to Martyn, and while he spends the night terrorising Martyn's friends, the two of them build an unlikely bond and friendship.

The Red King just wants to rest, and so does Martyn. But not everything is as easy as it first seems.” Ren pulls out all the stops to try and intimidate Martyn but Martyn is a little rude to him and completely ruins it.

Wild Life: A Conservation Podcast by donnerstag - “Ren and Martyn, hosts of a popular little nature and conservation podcast, go camping together as part of a season finale special; discussions of the future, for both the show and themselves, ensue. Featuring: a campfire! innuendos! and even a little bit of kissy, perhaps?”

A Romance Route For The Doomed Villain?!? by skelew - “These days, Martyn doesn’t really have a lot going on. This is where the dating sim comes in.

Granted, if Martyn knew he was going to die so soon, he maybe would have tried a little harder at, like, holding down a job. Or maybe not. It's not like he has a lot of time to think about it.

Or, Treebark Isekai Romance Parody Which I Spent Far Too Much Time On.”

❤️I Think I’ve Seen This Film Before by GoodTimesWithScar - “In which Martyn fails to get the guy - but he doesn't let that stop him for long.” Set in the treesekai AU (the fic above), which you need to read to understand.

💜I should’ve known it would be you - water/woods by theorionsound - “Martyn sort of expected to fall in love with Ren eventually.

—

On their bi-annual hiking trip, Ren and Martyn get lost in thought. Mainly about eachother.”

❤️To Sit in Hell With You by dirtybinary - "Ren pulled Martyn close, breathing in the smell of soot and cinders still clinging to his clothes. 'You never kept secrets from me, back at Dogwarts.'

'Sure.' There was something knife-bright in Martyn’s eyes. 'And I’m a good little Southlander now.'

Martyn's playing every side in the death game. He's a loose cannon, he's a wild card, he's a selfish bastard who's going to betray everyone in the end, even Ren. Probably. Most likely. Any minute now."

Solidaritek

💜Red Bandit AU (In Progress Series) by scribblingdragon - “A Empires Season 2 AU with Jimmy as the Sheriff of Tumble Town, and Tango as a local bandit that is slowly, forcefully, being domesticated. Shenanigans ensue from there.”

❤️💜Hels To Pay AU (In Progress Series) by aquaquadrant and lunarcrown - “Angsty Tango-centric Hermitcraft/Double Life SMP AU”

❤️The Highwayman by EnvelopedByOblivion - “Fate walks many paths - but for each person, it only wears one face. Sheriff Jimmy Solidarity’s fate is a handsome red-eyed highwayman who saves Jimmy from a group of bandits. Despite being on opposite sides of the law, something keeps bringing them together, tangible as gravity and inevitable as death.

Which will get to them first? What will win out – a growing relationship between them, or their obligations to the life they’ve chosen for themselves?”

💜Let Me Show You Everything I Know by MassiveWaffle - "Jimmy Solidarity is an ordinary guy. He goes to his grad school classes during the day, works at the campus library in the evenings, and neglects his friendships a little too much. Then, engineering student Tango enters the library for some help, and Jimmy finds his friend group growing, and his life inexplicably changed."

A Nestcommunication by YacintheMorning - “Tango just wants to make the ranch a home for both him and his avian soulmate. Unfortunately, he knows almost nothing about avians. But the least he can do is try, right?” In which Tango is accidentally way too forward.

💜A Lesson in Listening by YacintheMorning - "Grian's brother is moving to town and staying with him while he house hunts. While introducing him to his friend, however, Jimmy and Tango seem to make quite a connection. Determined not to suffer through the pining, Grian and Impulse attempt to play matchmaker."

💜He loves that horse by ThatTallQueerBassist - “Tango uses his horse training knowledge to get Oreo back in shape after all the drama of being stolen back and forth.

Unfortunately, this panicked Jimmy at first.

He quickly calms down once he finds Tango training Oreo just outside the walls of their ranch.

They chat, and everything is well in the world again.”

❤️The Best Soulmate by BlocksRuinedMe - “‘But everyone else didn’t know that - it was possible even Bdubs didn’t know that - and yet he carried on like that, all the time. All about Joel’s soulmate. Bdubs didn’t respect Joel, and fuck that.

SmallEtho

Fuck that.

Joel had been fantasizing about killing Bdubs for weeks.’

—

The Boat Boys have made it to the end of Double Life, standing with Impulse and Bdubs, watching the divorce quartet crumble. Joel has a plan to make Etho win Double Life, whether Etho likes it or not.” Joel being an unreliable narrator because rage clouds his thinking is really something I wish there was more of. You definitely want to read the tags before diving into this one btw.

Holy Father, judge my sins by giddyfenix - "Joel and Etho as the seven deadly sins. After all, what were they if not corrupted?" The lust chapter has a sexual scene, obvs, so skip that if you so wish.

A list of facts and problems by giddyfenix - “Joel had never realized it was possible to feel someone in your bones until Etho came along.”

Amores anacrónicos by giddyfenix - “Don’t be further than 10 blocks from Etho for 10 minutes. One attempt only.”

You held his hands, it felt like flying by Prudent_seer - “Etho doesn't believe in soulmates. Doesn't believe in fate, destiny or an invisible little string tying two people together indefinitely. It was ridiculous, maddening even to think of two people who were made for one another; made perfect for each other by the "universe's almighty will". With that being said, he had someone in mind that was pretty damn close. So when Grian threw them in a world where these soulbounds did in fact exist in a tangible form, where health and pain was shared with someone else, he sought out the person whom he thought was his match. Only to literally fall into the life of his actual soulbound.

It was Joel. And with that Etho cursed the universe for its twisted sense of humour.

Creative rewrite of double life through the eyes of Etho, who learns to love his soulmate.” There’s sex but it’s not smut, you know what I mean?

when everything burns, they burn together by TheYesterdayShow - “No one for Joel because he's always been a loner. For as long as he can remember he's been on his own in these games—in the first one he had his cottage on the hill (so long ago that he can barely remember what it looked like, he can only remember it burning and the flames licking up at him and melting his skin and the smell of his hair and he has to put it out—), and in the games since, he's been alone. Alliances that last little more than a week, here and there, and somehow he always ends up at Grian's side at the end of things, but he's never actually teamed up with anyone else.

He doesn't want a soulmate.”

etho has said parkour tag! by panch_owo - “Neither Cyan or Aqua make it to finals, which means the rest of the event is unimportant!

And instead of dwelling on their non-team, they go on another round of tag because it's them.” No smut but a lot of innuendo and tension

More Powerful Than Fear Itself Is The Will To Win by smoothlikebutter - "After a devastating crash ends Etho’s racing career with the McLaren Formula One team, he’s forced to take significant time off to recover. While his fans are eager to see him again soon, what they don’t know is that Etho’s crash was worse than reported; he had to re-learn how to walk and talk before he could even think about racing again. But the desire to get back in a racing car is a strong motivation, so Etho pushes himself to his limits… However, his team couldn’t wait forever. His replacement is talented and the endless competition of motorsports is ruthless. Now Etho has to prove to his old team— and to the whole world— that they were too quick to forget about him. And what better place than the 24 Hours of Le Mans?

ConCorp is eager to snap up a big name like Etho. They’re entering under the Garage 56 innovative category this year, and their CEOs aren’t interested in much more than publicity so the pressure is low. But they’ve also signed Joel, a ruthless pro endurance racer who isn’t about to settle for anything less than the top step of the podium and a champagne shower at the end of the race. And honestly? That’s exactly the kind of teammate that Etho needs." Had me dancing around my room with excitement. Etho's character arc is amazing.

We're a Couple of Freaks by smoothlikebutter - "Joel is a weapon. Etho is also a weapon. They're professional monster hunters, and they've got a job to do tonight: clear out a ton of undead from an abandoned old mansion. Simple, right? This could only possibly go wonderfully well.” Epic Smalletho Souleater AU

❤️Blurring The Lines by FountainPenguin - “Dad always goes overboard with presents. They're never something traditional that a kid would ask for, either. It's always something he had left over in the back of his truck after a project or something stupid he bought after sipping a few too many potions and regretted sober.

One year for Scar's birthday, when he and his cousin Grian were playing in the sandbox out back, Dad and his friends arrived unannounced with four oak saplings. Dad didn't grab his arm or anything (Dad basically never touched him except on rare occasion to brush sand from his hair before loading him in the car; he always said it would make Mom mad), but he used words and praise and empty promises to drag Scar away from his and Grian's game to plant them right away.

Maybe Dad gave so many gifts because he was never around in summer. As early as April, he spent every weekend out fishing with his cousin on his houseboat...

AKA - That Scar-centric standalone piece about the Clocker family in contemporary suburbia.”

And goodness you’re bleeding (What a wonderful feeling) by knightinshiningarmor - “When the relationship burns, Etho feels an intense burst of emotions that leads to a revelation.”

#masterlist #fic rec #scarian #treebark #solidango #solidaritek #smalletho #hermitcraft fanfic #trafficshipping #traffic life fanfic #life series fic #can u tell i watched double life first? lol

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crowleysgirl56 · 4 months

Text

Wildest dreams wishes for Good Omens Season 3 which will probably not come true but I can still hope hey!

Number 13.

It’s Aftercare Week following the Smut War over on the Reddit @goodomensafterdark subreddit, so in honour of caring for the tired Smutgoblins, please indulge in this little wildest dream Cottagecore fantasy that I have, want, and desire (one of many!)

In the garden of a modest cottage nestled in the South Downs, an angel and a demon are finally enjoying a long overdue picnic.

Aziraphale sits on the large tartan rug spread out under the garden’s apple tree, carefully slicing one of the trees given fruits. Crowley lounges next to him, propped up on his side by an elbow. His dark sunglasses long since discarded, he serenely gazes up at his angel and enjoys the cool breeze coming off the coast.

Aziraphale glances down at Crowley and smiles fondly as he continues to cut.

“You know, I think you’ve outdone yourself with this year’s harvest my dear. I have to say these apples are the best yet”.

“Might have used a bit of a demonic miracle or two.” Crowley grinned and wriggled his fingers.

“Well I’m just relieved you finally stopped yelling at the poor plants.”

“Nothing wrong with a bit of forceful encouragement.”

At this Aziraphale cocked an eyebrow, “Yes, except you were scaring the neighbours”.

“Added bonus.”

Aziraphale chuckled and shook his head as he offered a slice of apple. “Honestly, you really must try one.”

Crowley gave a small smile and gently said “They’re for you Angel”.

“Then perhaps, I can at least tempt you into tasting one?” An imperceptible, wicked grin spread across Aziraphale’s face as he leaned in closer to Crowley, holding the apple slice between them. Crowley’s eye widened slightly as he sat up a little straighter. Finally he reached out and held Aziraphale’s wrist, and brought the slice to his mouth. He gently rubbed his thumb along the bottom of Aziraphale’s palm as his bit down into the piece.

Neither broke eye contact as Crowley chewed. The look Aziraphale gave him was a mixture of shock and hunger. Crowley wondered to himself if this was how he always looked when gazing at Aziraphale eating at The Ritz.

Finally Crowley swallowed. Aziraphale eagerly asked what he thought. Crowley snaked forward as his gaze fell to Aziraphale’s neck. “I’ve had…better”, he murmured as he pressed his lips to Aziraphale’s Adams Apple.

Aziraphale’s eyes fell shut as he let the moment take him. A small note of anxiety crossed his face a moment later. “Crowley. Wait. We’re outside. Someone might see.”

“Can’t. Scared them all away remember”, Crowley murmured into Aziraphale’s neck, as he continued to pepper kisses up and down his throat.

“I didn’t mean the neighbours”. Aziraphale drew back slightly and pointed upwards. Crowley rolled his eyes grumbling, “Well they shouldn’t be looking then, the filthy perves!”

“Please Crowley” Aziraphale’s puppy dog eyes are what does it. Crowley sighs heavily then snaps his fingers. Suddenly the surrounding trees begin to grow, branches reaching out above them, and soon their picnic spot is covered by a large, thick, canopy of leaves.

“Better?” Crowley once again reduces the distance between him and his angel.

“Much better dear.” Aziraphale’s hand drifts up to Crowley’s face, lightly brushing his cheek.

“Good. Now, where did I put that Apple? Ah! Here it is.” Crowley’s lips are back on Aziraphale’s neck. They fall back onto the blanket, neither caring about what actually happened to the rest of the apple.

Wow, I didn’t mean to make this one so long, but once I started I couldn’t seem to stop. Hope you enjoyed the erotic garden interlude.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #crowley #aziraphale #crowley x arizaphale #i can dream can’t i?#good omens season 3 #wildest dreams #cottagecore #South Downs #aftercare week

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theold-ultraviolence · 1 year

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HEYYY JUST HAD A THIUGHT IDK (for the eyepatch story btw)

what about when aemond gets betrothed and he always comes back to her like at night(when he first heard about the match) he comes to her shop and they sleep together (LIKE ACTUAL SLEEP) and he tells her about it and it’s just fluffy and he’s like you’ll always be the one i love’ and it’s kinda hurt/comfort idk

Interlude

Aemond Targaryen x seamstress!reader

Summary: A quiet moment between Aemond and his seamstress, before he breaks the news to her that he's been betrothed to one of Borros Baratheon's daughters. A/N: OMG OMG THANK YOU FOR DROPPING THIS! I was trying to figure out how to write the third part of this, and this served as the perfect interlude between the second part and the next!!!!! This was exactly what I needed to bridge the plot, so thank you my dear!! CW: Angst!! Hurt & comfort and a little surprise at the end...Words: 1k. // More of the seamstress!reader series here.

While orbiting around the sun of your imagination, you’ve often wondered if it was possible for time to freeze – if places existed, where the dimensions of space and time diverged to one’s convenience, or even safety, or indulgence.

Never did you imagine that you’d ever find your answer, in your very own bed, in the arms of your lover, Aemond.

These places were but a fantasy of yours, much like bedding the Targaryen Prince, yet here, in the back of your shop in the Street of Looms, time dissolves, like the last drops of liquor out of a fine bottle of wine, or like the cold chill of an afternoon in spring, when summer rolls through the season.

Tangled in sheets, Aemond spoons you from behind as he drifts in and out of sleep; strong arms and legs are wrapped around you as he nuzzles the side of your neck – his quiet snores and grunts keep you grounded, awake and making the most of every moment, lest this warm embrace sends you into a realm of sleep so deep it is dreamless.

This is the dream, right here, living and breathing – with soft, pillowy lips and a sharp nose that’s resting on your shoulder blade.

You let him sleep all he wants, as he often comes to you when he needs a peaceful rest away from the cacophony of the Red Keep, though you just can’t do the same.

Something within you calls for you to relish every second you have with him, for you never know when these moments might be yanked from you. There’s always a cloud of danger looming outside of your home when he comes to you – weariness in the pit of your stomach from the mere thought of this affair with the prince being found out.

This feeling of dread remains at the pit of your gut when Aemond groans and stirs from his sleep behind you, holding onto you even tighter – tighter still than how he hugs you every time he leaves your home.

“My love…” beneath the endearing layer of sleepy-gruff voice, there’s a note that makes you intertwine your hands with his in a fierce grip, and reply with tredipitation, not yet turning over to face him.

“Yes, what is it, dear love?”

His voice comes out muffled from his face being pressed against your naked back, and each vowel seems to be strung out from his throat by force.

“There is something I need to tell you, but it will not be easy.”

Your heart drops to your stomach, while you grit your teeth and take a deep breath, giving his hand a squeeze so he could continue.

“When the morrow comes, I will be off to Storm’s End. My house has turned upside down because of the succession as you know, and…”

You’re stiff, clinging onto every word for dear life, like a diver who’s lingering by the slippery edge of the cliff, for fear of hitting the rocks on the dive down to the ocean.

“The reason why I’m flying to Storm’s End is because I was betrothed to one of Borros Baratheon’s daughters.”

Aemond says this bit in one quick go, but it doesn’t take away from how deep it stings.

Your eyes burn akin to someone throwing acid on them as you try to refrain from crying – your chest feels like it’s being stuffed with grovel, and you grind your teeth so hard you're surprised you don't crack a molar.

“I don’t know which one yet, it has not been decided. I am to propose the arrangement to Lord Borros, in fact, in order to secure his alliance with us, and his support to my brother.”

“I...” you choke on your words, letting out a long sigh to calm yourself down, but you can only bury your head in your pillow and scrunch your eyes shut to block out your tears.

“I don’t know what to say,” you murmur wetly against your pillow. “‘Tis your duty, my prince. Let us be truthful, Aemond. We knew this day would come. We knew that what we have between us couldn’t have lasted long.”

Neither speak for what seems like an eternity, as your fate sinks in and suddenly the string of your time together seems to be cutting itself short.

“So be it, for the prosperity of the kingdom and your brother’s rule. I suppose congratulations are in order, my prince.” You mutter, with your back to him, still.

“Look at me,” he softly whispers, gently nudging you so you’d finally turn in his arms.

When you finally face him, hurt flashes on his lilac eye when he sees the tear stains on your cheeks. He frames your face in his palms while gazing at you longingly – already missing you, when he’s not even gone yet.

His voice is as soft as embroidery thread, but just as frail when he whispers against your lips. “You are my one true love. My best friend, the one I desire. Nothing and no one will ever change that.”

“Just you being married to someone else…” You laugh self-deprecatingly, but he fiercely shakes his head and stares at you with conviction.

“My dear love, I assure you that not even that could break the love that I hold for you in my heart.”

Tears now come flooding down your face. There’s nothing you can do to stop them, except for maybe hiding your face in the crook of Aemond’s neck and cling to him with all your limbs, hugging him with every inch of your body desperately.

“Promise me you won’t forget about me.” You bury your pleas right into his skin, selfishly hoping they’ll reach his heart and grow roots there.

“I could never, my lady, I could never. I hope you won’t forget about me either.” He chuckles miserably, deeply inhaling the scent that emanates from the crown of your head.

“That’s just impossible, my prince.”

Being all snug like you were in bed while breathing in sync, it was only a matter of time before your vision blurred and the waking world was no more.

You sleep deeply through the night, and when you wake up, your heart once more contracts when you extend your hand and notice Aemond’s not there.

His comforting presence is now gone, taking with him the magic that is making time stand still, for the universe to stop spinning.

You turn away from his empty spot on your bed, and notice that something glints in your nightstand, due to the sun rays filtering in through your curtain.

Rubbing your eyes, you sit on your bed and your jaw drops, when the object becomes clear – after you take it in your fingers and turn it over, appraising every minute detail with awe.

There in the palm of your hand, rests a ring, with a golden band and a sapphire encrusted within an intricate, circular frame…

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #seamstress!reader #female!Reader #reader insert fanfiction #hotd #house of the dragon #ewan mitchell #my writing

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enigmaticxbee · 1 year

Text

XF AU - Fic Recs

When the world was unrecognizable and upside down, there was one thing that remained the same. You... were my friend, and you told me the truth. Even when the world was falling apart, you were my constant... my touchstone (or, alternate universe and canon-divergent fics):

Contemporary AUs:

A Companion Unobtrusive by @slippinmickeys - She needed a roommate. He needed a room.

The Annapolis Grant by @slippinmickeys - Fake relationship! Scully hires Mulder to pretend to be her boyfriend.

Aprons and Scrubs by @lokisgame - Scully’s a doctor and Mulder runs a bar.

Five Years and a Lifetime by @monikafilefan @slippinmickeys - One night stand AU. Five years later, Scully and Mulder work at the same pediatric hospital, and Scully's four year old daughter bears a striking resemblance to the picture of a dark haired girl that sits on Mulder's desk...

Skin by Annie Sewell-Jennings - In a world where Mulder and Scully have never met, fate intervenes and brings two worlds colliding in the city of Charleston, as a vicious murderer reigns and a storm approaches.

Sinners Come Down by aster_risk - Six years into her marriage to Daniel, Scully meets Fox Mulder at a bar one night, and they get talking and fucking over alcohol and self-pity.

In the Best Interest of the Child by @mldrgrl - When tragedy strikes, Mulder is forced to take guardianship of his young niece, but the matter is complicated by the arrival of a sister-in-law he's never met.

Historical AUs:

By the Dim and Flaring Lamps by @sunflowerseedsandscience - Civil War AU. Captain Mulder befriends Private Scully who’s hiding a secret…

The Countess and The Earl by @slippinmickeys - Regency Romance!

Old Growth Forest by Andrea - Mulder and Scully travel back to frontier times

Rocky Mountain Interlude Part 1 and Part 2 by Jacquie LaVa and Tess - Mulder and Scully travel back in time to solve the case of a Colorado mining ghost

The Science of Sex by @if-the-seascatchfire - Masters of Sex AU. Mulder and Scully are doctors in the late 1950s who undertake a years-long study about human sexuality, and as part of the research, they also have sex with each other - you know, for the science.

Out of this World:

The Magician by Suzanne Bickerstaffe and Jennifer Lyon - Fantasy series where Mulder and Scully travel to another world full of magic (one of the first fanfics I ever remember reading!)

Out of the Little Grove by @slippinmickeys - Crossover with His Dark Materials (a mashup truly made just for me, my 13 year old self would have been over the moon)

Blinded by White Light by @dashakay - Post-colonization. What are we, but the sum of our memories? A classic.

Julia and Gabriel by Mish - Post-colonization. A new identity, a new, dangerous society, an unchanged heart and soul. Gave me Hunger Games vibes for some reason (although written years before that was published)

Canon-Divergent: Pre or Early Series

Eleventh Hour by Rachel Anton - Mulder travels back in time to find college-aged Scully and change everything.

Belphagor’s Prime by Prufrock’s Love - When Scully disappears Mulder travels back in time to a pre-X-Files Scully for help.

In Another Life by @mldrgrl - What if there was no conspiracy? What if Mulder was just a regular FBI Agent? What if Scully was just a bureau pathologist?

How They Met by @peacenik0 - After an encounter at Scully’s FBI academy graduation party they must determine how to deal with their past and their undeniable attraction to one another when partnered up.

One Week at Quantico by CrossedBeams - What if Mulder had been teaching at the Academy when Scully was training…

Paging Dr. Scully by @mangokiwitropicalswirl - Mulder keeps ending up in Dr Scully’s ER.

Only One Choice by @sisterspooky1013 - Scully was never assigned to The X Files.

The Way Things Are by Sukie Tawdry - A season 1 one night stand changes everything. Baby-fic.

Departures & Arrivals by anarchybeauty - After the X Files are closed in 1994, Scully moves on. Two years later, she runs into Mulder in an airport.

Right Hand Return by humphreywrites - Scully is returned from her abduction with a baby, no memories of anything prior to her captivity and some PTSD.

12 Rites of Passage and 12 Degrees of Separation by Anne Hayes - mytharc story written very early in the series run.

parent_1 by @markwatneyandenesemble - It’s 1996, Mulder’s been off the X-Files for three years, and not speaking to Scully. They’ve almost moved on with their lives. Almost.

Canon-Divergent: Mid Series

A Different Place by @myownsuperintendent - When Mulder successfully brings one of the Samantha clones back from the farm with him in Herrenvolk, she must learn to adapt to a different life.

Once More With Feeling by skinfull - While on a stakeout Mulder is shot in the head and loses his memory.

Iolokus by rivkat and MustangSally - Mytharc AU. Painted across the barren and desolate reaches of Texas, the shadows of the Project put additional pressure on Scully and Mulder's already fragile relationship. After a hostage crisis raises more questions about the Project's breeding program, Scully begins her own investigation, leaving Mulder to choose between saving her and saving himself. Pretty disturbing but fascinating, a classic.

Arizona Highways by Fialka - Mytharc AU. Visions of Melissa lead Our Heroes on a case confirming the existence of a series of Emilys. But does Melissa really have a message, or is it all in Scully’s head? Another classic.

Heuvelmans' On the Track by @mashnotesofthemythopoeic - post-FTF mytharc AU, truly a ride you’ll never forget.

The Leap and Landfall by Ambress - Scully has a one time opportunity for motherhood, given to her by the Kurt Crawfords.

All That Is Dark and Bright by @malibusunset-xf-blog - Emily lives AU.

Five Years and One Night by Shalimar - Scully leaves the X-Files post-Emily but gets drawn back in when Mulder discovers Emily wasn’t the only child created.

Cubed by Louise Marin - Mid-season 6 Scully does a little body-swapping of her own. Can she and Mulder make it back to each other? Do they want to?

The Boy on the Beach and Tonight We're Gonna Party Like It's 1999 by @cecilysass - One moment she was sitting in the chair. Her chin up, her expression ice. And the next moment she was gone. Fantastic exploration of the Samantha storyline.

Canon-Divergent: Late or Post Series

40 Weeks by @malibusunset-xf-blog - What if the IVF attempt in Per Manum had been successful?

Mobius by L.A. Ward - Post-Requiem while investigating the disappearance of a physicist, Scully finds someone she didn't expect - Mulder. But is it her Mulder?

By the Wind Grieved by Karen Rasch - Mulder is returned several months post Requiem but he doesn't know who he is or what Scully and he are to each other. Together they must reclaim the past before their enemies take away their future.

Deadalive AU by @markwatneyandenesemble - Mulder is returned but is missing several years of memory.

The 13th Sign and 7 Days in May by Prufrock’s Love - Post-Deadalive. Mulder saw no reason for life, death, sex, Armageddon, or emotional dysfunction to stand in the way of true love.

Hurricane Season by rah and beduini - Post-Existence week at the beach with the Scully family and baby Wim.

Terra Firma series by @malibusunset-xf-blog - Post-Existence domestic family drama, a classic comfort read for me.

2008 by MystPhile - With the quest at an end, the X-Files closed in the year 2000. Our heroes went their separate ways. In 2008, they meet in Bloomingdale's and the past, present, and future are explored.

Dr. Scully's School for Exceptional Boys by Prufrock’s Love - More than a decade had passed. Mulder had no reason to hole up in his apartment alone, wearing a Three Dog Night T-shirt with dried mustard on the hem and blue jeans that had seen better days. He wasn't "saving himself" for anyone. Especially not Her. Though she remained epically, beautifully, brilliantly kick-A-S-S.

Machines of Freedom by Amal Nahurriyeh - post-IWTB. The end of the world is coming. And they're doing everything in their power to stop it.

North of Zero by @slippinmickeys - Post-IWTB, post-colonization. The bombs have fallen. The aliens have come. What’s next?

Canon Parallel AUs:

I've got you under my skin by cuits - In a universe where soulmate identifying marks exist and affect a part of the population, would Mulder and Scully's relationship evolve any different? Unfinished but complete through Existence so it still ends in a satisfying place.

Half-light by skuls - Mulder and Scully get a second chance.

The Family G-Man by Neoxphile and FelineFemme - A double tragedy strikes Mulder the week before Christmas of 2003. What if he could go back and change things, save the son one lost and give the other the family she wanted? Could it keep them safe?

#xf fanfic #au #alternate universe #long post

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kiwiana-writes · 6 months

Text

2023 Writing Round Up

Thanks @welcometololaland and @rmd-writes for the tags! It’s been a weird year; there was definitely a point at which I thought I was done with sharing my writing publicly, but here we are 😂

JANUARY

Brain break 😁

FEBRUARY

We knew we were the fortunate ones [The Last of Us; Bill/Frank; rated E; 2,294 words]

First times are both awkward and exciting, apocalypse or no apocalypse.

MARCH

My mind has been expanded [Schitt’s Creek; David/Patrick; rated T; 422 words]

In which the author David finds out their his spouse has never seen Rocky Horror

Got me an appetite, now I can taste it [Schitt’s Creek; David/Patrick; rated E; 3,002 words]

Kink!verse s05e12: chastity cage for @minerforaheartofgold

APRIL-JUNE

Brain break 😁

JULY

We were supposed to find this [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated M; 3,384 words]

The canon-adjacent soulmarks fic

Honey lips and words so true [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 1,580 words]

A smutty little prompt fill for @rmd-writes

All the city lights on the water [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated T; 500 words]

A series of NYE drabbles as a prompt fill for @hullomoon

Before this all goes grey [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated T; 455 words]

A painfully soft Paris morning prompt fill for @stereopticons

Looking like our bodies might fuse [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated T; 637 words]

Post-canon paparazzi feelings prompt fill for @hullomoon

Just come along, baby, take my hand [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 1,335 words]

The ‘Alex and Henry watch Netflix’s How to Build a Sex Room’ fic @celeritas2997 made me write

Feel your hands in my hair and you whisper my name [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 2,508 words]

The barbershop meet-horny for @celeritas2997

AUGUST

With so much of my heart (that none is left to protest) [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 65,586 words]

Actor AU, Alex and Henry performing in a queer reimagining of Much Ado About Nothing

SEPTEMBER

Bukkake Breaky Heart [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 2,532 words]

Alex has a fantasy. Henry makes it happen.

Empty your heart of its mortal dream [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated G; 3,641 words]

Alex steps inside a fairy circle and Fey Prince Henry appears

The star to every wandering bark [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated T; 3,895 words]

A 5+1 coda set during the epilogue of With so much of my heart (that none is left to protest)

I don’t know if I should go with XX Pro or Valencia [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated T; 2,854 words]

Henry sends a thirst trap to his ex… or does he?

OCTOBER

Kinktober 2023 [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 6,200 words]

31 days, 31 kinky double drabbles

I’ve carried this song in my mind [RWRB; Arthur&Henry, Alex/Henry; rated T; 2,529 words]

Five times Arthur tries to get Alex and Henry together from beyond the grave, and one time two times his intervention isn’t needed.

Handprints in wet cement [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 2,421 words]

Five things Henry learned during his Oxford Slut Phase that he shared with Alex, and one thing they learned together.

NOVEMBER

Puck It [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 9,739 words]

College AU, Alex as a NCAA division I, NHL-drafted hockey player

Kinda think that I might be his type [RWRB; Alex/Henry, Alex&Bea; rated E; 12,864 words]

Alex agrees to be his friend's fake boyfriend for a weekend. He is not prepared for his friend's brother.

A Practical Arrangement [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; WIP 1/3 chapters, 6,136 words published, to be finished before the end of the year]

An anachronism stew, royalty-arranged-marriage AU

DECEMBER

All Those Christmas Clichés [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated M; WIP 16/25 chapters, 4,800 words published]

Daily triple drabbles: snapshots of the lead-up to Christmas 2023.

Puck It Real Good [RWRB; Alex/Henry; rated E; 1,793 words]

A smutty interlude set during Puck It

Tagging @affectionatelyrs @anincompletelist @cha-melodius @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @dumbpeachjuice @getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @indestructibleheart @inexplicablymine @myheartalivewrites @sparklepocalypse @stereopticons @tintagel-or-cockleshells and, as always, anyone who wants to play!

#2023 writing round up #kiwiana-writes

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cuckoo-on-a-string · 1 year

Text

Hello, Mr. Monster: The Nightmare's Interlude

Hello, Mr. Monster master list

Summary: Eros and Psyche inspired Soulmate!AU, Morpheus x female OC/reader (18+)

So, as some of you know, I've been very sick for a while. Everything's behind schedule, but then this struck me, so I thought I'd share. The Jeff fan club rides again! The next proper chapter will be out... soon? Not doing the tag list thingy for this, but that will return with the next, proper chapter, and I'll give ya'll a heads up about this blurb in case you missed it then. <3

The nightmare was older than the beds beneath which it lurked. It had slipped a cold, hard grasp around dreamer’s ankles before there were words for either. From the dawn of sleeping things, it startled creatures from fantasies and reminded all of the unseen dangers lurking in dark places. Snakes, spiders, and wicked things with tooth and talon. Worse threats, even: strangers and ghosts, murderers and curious thieves.

When the Nightmare King vanished, the thing from under the bed went looking. It was one of many, in the beginning, but others grew distracted, lost hope, or found fresh inspiration in the delights of the waking world. It did not give up its quest. Traveling from shadows under a bed to those under a low table on the other side of the planet, it searched. It saw without eyes and heard without eats. It listened from under chairs and lurked under parked cars. But the waking world was vast, and after nearly a century of hunting, it began to despair.

The Endless were not gods. And the Nightmare King did not take up his mantle with a light heart. Perhaps he’d left, abandoned his creations to wither and fade.

Was that a kinder end than simply unmaking the Dreaming in one, fell stroke?

Perhaps Dream of the Endless was captured. Or ill. Or enchanted by some fell demon. Perhaps he wasn’t in the waking world at all, and he’d been bound in the deepest circles of Hell, or drugged into bliss beyond the gates of Tir na NÒg. Without word, every possibility was as realistic as the last. The nightmare only knew its lord wasn’t dead. If he’d fallen, another aspect would’ve been given his function, and the Dreaming would not stand in ruins.

So, the nightmare kept searching, obsessed with a new purpose, a new reason for existing, and it decided not to return before its lord.

It found all kinds of things. Lost treasures. Creatures hiding from worse monsters than the dark. Other dreams and nightmares seeking refuge from their increasingly-unstable home. Bottles, buttons, and dust bunnies. Never a hint of its lord.

And then – something.

A thread of power reaching out through a sleeping mind, the glitter of sand and ancient power.

The nightmare rushed through the shadows, following the trace like a bloodhound. It would get there first. It would rescue their lord. They would return to the Dreaming and set all right. A quest fulfilled.

But when it finally chased down the source, it didn’t find Lord Morpheus. It reached up to clutch a very small, very human ankle.

The girl-child jerked awake at its touch, hiccupping on tears, and the nightmare wondered which of its brothers it had interrupted. It did not wonder long, though. It was too busy feeling a new sensation, one it was meant to inspire rather than suffer.

Horror.

This child had been… mangled. Deep within. Her mortality hung in tatters, like curtains in the windows of a haunted house, framing what should have been a miracle. His master’s name. The dream of dreams. But whatever had irreparably damaged the child’s natural place in the flow of life and death had carved over the name.

And there was the sand. In her soul. In her blood.

It must pull her deep into dreams, the poor thing.

She was fortunate to wake at all.

A strong child.

Little fingers brushed over nightmarish crusts and ooze, gentle with papery skin, and the little girl said, “Hello.”

The nightmare had never had a conversation with a human child before, and after a moment’s thought, it gave her ankle a slight, answering squeeze. Nothing to hurt her, but enough to acknowledge and return her greeting.

“Are…” Her voice quavered and died, but she tried again, determined. The nightmare hung on her every breath, waiting.

“Are you here to hurt me, too?”

It released her. Instantly. The shadows swallowed it back under the little princess bed, and it recoiled into the inky black as that new feeling – horror – brought goosebumps to its hairless flesh.

This was its lord’s soulmate. It had seen many come and go from Lord Morpheus’ embrace, but this – well. This was different. This was unique. Something that would not come again, even in another dozen millennia. The little human was precious, even if its master was not there to appreciate and protect the one creature whose wyrd twined so intimately with his.

“Don’t go!” A little face appeared, upside-down over the side of the bed, trying to see in spaces too deep for mortal eyes. Even eyes, the nightmare realized, as clever as hers. Oh, the trouble this child must find.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. Are you… a nice… monster?”

The nightmare returned to the light slowly, ensuring it wouldn’t scare her, and she smiled, reaching down to shake its hand.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Monster.”

The nightmare did not realize it at the time, but it was already lost. Lost to the hope in terrified eyes and the smile that invited it into the daylight for tea parties. Lost to slow conversations through knocks and a hand-drawn copy of a Ouija board the girl “saw on tv.”

It explained it was a nightmare, and she explained her name meant “dream,” too. When it said it didn’t have a name in the way she did, she gasped, told it that was terrible, and offered him one.

Jeff.

He became Jeff, and without meaning to, he found a new kind of quest. Even if his lord should never return, Jeff would guard his lady. The little dreamer marked for death with terrible power because she’d first been marked for love.

Protector. Guard. Confidante. Friend, even. He’d never been such things, but he took up the role gladly as the child told him about her parents, who knew something had happened to their child, but couldn’t believe her story about the fairy under the bridge. Jeff believed her, and Jeff remembered.

She explained why her favorite foods were the best, why it was important to have a favorite color, and why swings were her favorite part of the playground.

One day she came in with a little bottle, giggling, and called him out. He stretched into the yellow sun, the tips of his fingers brushing the hem of her lavender dress.

“Mommy made my nails pretty, so now I’m gonna paint yours and make you pretty, too, kay?”

She painted his broken, half-peeled fingernails with glittery purple polish, and they made her so happy he kept them that way a whole week. Jeff would do many things to keep her smiling, because sometimes the terror carved into her young mind swelled until she became sick with it. The fear stole the breath from her lungs and the thoughts from her mind. It came most often in the dark, when she felt most alone, and Jeff held her little foot to assure himself she hadn’t shaken apart into broken pieces, and to let her know he was there.

And then came the night he failed her, the night the child lost her family and stared into the eyeless maw of her soulmate’s favorite creation. Jeff tried. He warned her not to go out, and when she didn’t listen, he pulled her under the bed.

But too late. Not enough.

The Corinthian pulled her out of the shadows and sent her running into the woods. Truly alone, where Jeff couldn’t so easily follow.

The child fled, pursued by hungry things in the night, the Not Deer among them.

The Corinthian returned to the room and smiled down at Jeff, wiping the parents’ blood off his knife.

“Nice girl you had there. Real peach.” The greater nightmare crouched low, taking off his sunglasses. “Not ripe yet, of course. It’s better this way, don’t you think? If she can’t survive a few of us, how could she survive our maker?”

He called, and summoned, and reached for every dream and nightmare he knew walked the waking world without malice. Some of them came. Jeff rallied Polyphemus, the shepherd who once carried the smallest dreamers away from the deeper shoals of Nightmare, into gentler dreams.

Enough came. Enough heard. They did what Jeff could not and snatched the plucked the girl out of reach of her pursuers. Polyphemus, and the nightmare Gault, and Fiddler’s Green – who wore a strange shape and a new name.

When that awful, terrible night had ended, when the child – Aisling – was safe enough in the hands of human authorities, Jeff began leaving for longer and longer periods, hunting ardently for his lord. The girl was not safe. She would never be safe until Dream of the Endless returned.

The fear became worse, paralyzing attacks that interrupted her waking hours.

She struggled in even the most welcoming foster homes, trying to navigate a pitying world that saw her as half-mad at best. And when Jeff reached out to comfort her, the other children screamed and ran to tell adults about the monster under the bed.

Other nightmares came to visit, and Aisling made her roommate cry after she asked to leave the closet door open “so the boogeyman can breathe.”

She did not smile so much.

She did not paint his nails, and she stopped drawing Ouija boards after one foster family subjected her to an exorcism.

Jeff listened to many would-be families plead with her to be good or demand to know why tormented the other children. They wanted her, if only she could behave. If only she’d stop lying. If only she’d stop playing sick pranks on the little ones. If, if, if. They only wanted her if. Jeff had seen her face horrors that could break the human mind and still smile after. He did not know how to help, so he held her ankle as she slept, and her hand when she was grounded.

He went with her to therapy sessions, learning beside her as she developed coping mechanisms to manage the fear. Panic attacks, the therapist called them. But the therapist also pushed her to tell a more palatable truth, to accept a human killed her parents, not a nightmare with mouths for eyes. The therapist wanted Aisling to stop talking to shadows and to make a best friend who wasn’t a monster under the bed.

The child, who was a little less a child every day, refused.

In the silvery glow of a full moon, she looked across the bedroom she – for once – had to herself, and told Jeff, “I won’t let any of them tell me what to be.”

The new families did not accept her, and she did not accept them. She wasn’t cruel, but she wasn’t right or normal, so it never mattered if she was kind (though Jeff knew she was). Rather than waiting for age to liberate her, she demanded the mortal courts recognize her as an adult two years too early. She finished her schooling, found a job near the house her parents left for her, and won her independence.

Then she began collecting folk of the Dreaming. The house where the Corinthian killed her parents was remote, far from the city where she’d been hurt. It was a good place for things too delicate, too big, or too strange for the waking world. Polyphemus came and herded them all, keeping the refugees of the Dreaming safe from the greed of the waking, and keeping the folk of the waking safe from the power of the dreamfolk.

The child who was now a woman had adventures. She traveled and developed her intuition into proper magical skill. The dreams and nightmares were her life, and Jeff continued shifting between the child and his eternal search for his master, determined to fail neither one a second time.

He could not have guessed that the child would complete his first quest without his help.

#fic: hello mr. monster #morpheus x reader #morpheus x oc #sandman x reader #dream of the endless x reader #jeff the nightmare

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