#I was thinking of maybe finishing Chapter 8 before I posted chapter 7

[hispg]

Between royalty and vows

Pairings: Prince! Leon x Fem! Reader

Summary: A forced marriage, a fate set in stone, nothing could change that.

In the world of royalty, there were no choices, only obligations to fulfill. What you didn't expect was to become engaged to a renowned prince, ready to succeed the lineage.

Until that moment, you still had some hope that everything would work out, maybe it wasn't so bad. But it would be a shame if your future husband had a mistress.

Wouldn't it?

Wc: 4.5k

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt/ comfort, cheating, arranged marriage, eventual smut, one-sided love, affairs, manipulative behavior from Leon, male chauvinism, misogyny (I'll put more once things start to progress).

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 |

An: Sorry for any grammar mistakes, it's late and i wanted to post.😭

Chapter 6: In your grasp

The day had already started off rather eclectic at the castle, with the servants working around the clock to finish the preparations for the ball that was to take place later.

Despite this, the day wasn't too busy for you, as the attention wasn't focused on you because of the ball. So you could say that everything was fine so far.

Since there was also an exquisite visitor at the castle, a close friend of the king. And someone who also had unshakeable power, worthy of a special reception.

Majesty Graham, also known as the imposing king of the United States, currently a nation with an enviable progression.

The visit had actually come as a surprise, as no one in the castle had expected the sudden appearance. The excuse was that important matters had to be sorted out with King Leonardo, matters that no one knew for sure what they were about, but they did seem to be important.

Despite the discretion that was maintained so that both Kings could talk, the walls had ears, literally. It wasn't hard to find some of the maidens sneaking into the corridors so that they could overhear the conversation.

After all, nothing about royalty could be kept secret for long, as old-fashioned as that may sound. That's the price you pay for being in the royal spotlight all the time.

And since the day was already too quiet for you, what could be better than listening to some of the maids' gossip? Surely you could understand why Majesty Graham was here in the first place.

So you did, taking slow, silent steps through the corridors, listening to the buzz coming from a more secluded corner, and then you saw the maids whispering among themselves, some smiling, others a little nervous, and some others seemed to be daydreaming. What could it be?

"God! Imagine what will happen to that man!" One of the servant girls exclaimed, looking at the others.

One of the others nodded before whispering, "Oh, what a silly idea! How can a man think of getting involved with a princess!"

So that's what it was about. You felt your heart shudder, so Ashley's father had found out about the hidden affair she was having. He just didn't know, who the man was, who subjected his daughter to this shamelessness. Oh, if he only knew.

"I heard! I heard Majesty Graham saying that he would even declare war if he found the culprit! He would be able to declare war on any kingdom!" One of the girls spoke up, putting her hand to her lips to show her exasperation at the situation.

All the others gasped, shaking their heads in denial. The ladies were just as exasperated as you were, and you couldn't help the look of confusion that appeared on your face.

How could this have happened? Leon wouldn't be so careless as to leave something out in the open like that, it wasn't something he would do. After all, it had been going on for years, so how could it have reached the majesty's ears?

You knew that King Leonardo would do his best to hide any clues that led to his son, he had the money and influence to do so. But how long would this situation remain under wraps? Perhaps this was the push to end the situation once and for all, and you were going to do everything possible to make it happen.

It might have been petty, but you couldn't let anything stand in the way of your marriage. That's what good brides did, they looked after their families and their husbands, so you were only doing the right thing.

If Ashley's father was still at the castle talking to King Leonard, then you could make a small appearance at this gathering. You even had the perfect idea of how to sneak into the room where the two men were talking, and it would also be the perfect cue to get Leon to put an end to this once and for all, or at least to get some respect from him.

But there was still something on your mind, would it be worth it? Would that be enough for Leon to see you as a woman? Or rather, as his wife?

You didn't know if it was right or wrong, but given the prince's latest attitudes lately, you couldn't let him keep doing whatever he wanted to you.

That kiss? It was able to send your emotions soaring, even though you wanted to deny it with all your soul, you couldn't even say that it had no effect on you.

Several times you found yourself wondering what it would be like if it were real, if it would feel like to have his lips on yours, even once, but you wanted it to be genuine. That it was something from inside his soul, that he felt something.

But you were already getting used to the idea that it was a silly dream, or maybe you'd have to sacrifice even more for this man, who knows, maybe with some little way out you could turn this situation in your favor?

And when several ideas started popping into your head, you had the brilliant idea of making this extramarital affair you had with Leon open, and you already knew perfectly well what the king's reaction would be.

The first thing that came to mind was the letter that Ashley had given Leon with the flowers, and you still had possession of that little letter. So why not give it to the king? Surely you could have imagined King Leon's furious reaction to knowing that his son was so indiscreet about this affair.

As you walked to your room, you saw a vase of flowers that had been placed in the hallway, they looked fresh, just so you could make your little scene even more intriguing. But of course you would only be the poor damsel in distress, the poor wife who was being betrayed.

Once you'd entered your chambers, you then went in search of the letter you'd kept so carefully. The same letter that made your blood boil just remembering the whole occasion. And you weren't just referring to the flowers you'd received, but to the situation as a whole.

And since Leon was basically inhibiting Chris's presence around you, it was only right to give him a taste of his own poison. You hid the letter in your hands, carrying the small, delicate vase of flowers in your hand, straight to the king's chambers. When you arrived at the entrance door, you straightened your posture and straightened your dress, making yourself perfectly presentable to the king.

It was then that you knocked twice on the door, only to be greeted with a 'come in' a few minutes later.

You did just that, with calm, elegant steps you made your way into the king's chamber. And there stood Majesty Graham, together with King Leonardo. You bowed politely to them both, looking at King Leonard as you held the flowers.

"Forgive the intrusion and indelicacy, Your Majesty. However, these flowers have arrived for the prince." You say, and your sentence was all it took for both men to raise their ears to hear what you had to say.

And of course you wouldn't come to talk to the most important man in the kingdom if you didn't have a reason to, and he was willing to listen to what you needed to say.

"There must have been some mistake." Leonardo said, getting up from his chair and walking over to you to inspect the flowers.

"No, Your Majesty. It even came with this little letter." You say as you hand over the piece of paper, and this makes Graham look at you both.

There was something in his gaze, and it wasn't from God. The man was already mounting his suspicions.

Leonardo then read the much-talked-about letter, his eyes widening and narrowing with every sentence, his face so red that you didn't know if he would be all right after finishing the letter. At the same moment, he looked at you, at Graham, who was already suspicious.

"I didn't understand the urgency, but the maids were in a hurry to give it to the prince." You said, in a tone that gave the perfect impression that you didn't know what it was really about.

And then you decided to add, "Oh, and there was also a certain discreetness."

That was the last straw for King Leonard to let out an audible sigh to control his nerves, and you felt the heavy gaze of Majesty Graham behind you. It was almost a silent conversation.

"Thank you, I'll give it to Leon as soon as he arrives." Leonardo says, not leaving you much room to say anything else.

You then understand that it's your time to leave, and you do so. The same bow you used to enter, you used to leave. Letting the heavy atmosphere remain between the two royals. As soon as you closed the door and left the room, you bumped into Ausdret, Leon's butler.

"Your Highness..." He says in a half bow, looking at you with a frown, as if he suspects something.

You reply with a polite smile, looking at him innocently.

"I was looking for you, princess, the prince asked me to announce his arrival." Ausdret said, and you immediately remembered that Leon had gone out for a horse ride, along with Chris. Another excuse not to leave you alone with the Duke.

"Right, where is he?" You asked, trying to hear what was going on in the King's chamber, but you could hear nothing but incomprehensible whispers.

"In his chambers, he made it clear that he wanted to see you." The butler added, making it clear that it wasn't a debate, if you didn't go to see the prince, he would come to you himself.

You just nodded and left for Leon's quarters. Since the kiss he gave you, something in the relationship had changed. Not that you could say he had any affection for you, but at least he seemed to be warmer.

Perhaps it was because the wedding was tomorrow and he wanted to make a good impression on the people attending, especially his father. At least you could use this as a small gap to try to patch up this doomed relationship, even though you have no idea what to expect, what the outcome will be.

Just as you were about to touch the handle to open the door, you heard footsteps behind you, they sounded like two people, and indeed they were. As soon as you turned around, you saw Ausdret and Leonardo, walking side by side.

Ausdret seemed to be trying to convince the king of something, and he was failing miserably, as for the king, well, his expression was as gloomy as the night. And it seemed that King Leonardo was not only walking to Leon's room, he was marching.

Each step seemed more furious than the last.

The man didn't even give you time to ask him anything, because he stormed into Leon's room himself, slamming the door shut while he talked to Leon about God knows what.

When you heard the door close, you felt so anxious that you couldn't contain yourself, and in the blink of an eye you were behind the door, listening to the conversation on the other side.

For a few minutes you only heard a few murmurs, until you could hear things clearly:

"For God's sake! Are you out of your mind?" You'd be polite to say that it wasn't a scream, as it was obviously one of the clearest shouts you'd heard in a while.

"How the hell did that get into your hands?" This time it was Leon's voice, which sounded indignant and surprised at the same time.

"No. Don't try to change the subject!" Leonardo's older voice echoed in the room once again.

Footsteps and footsteps, an uncomfortable silence, only for a loud voice to echo through the room once again.

"That's enough! This little antics of yours have gone far enough." The king's voice was serious, with no room for argument.

"Don't start. Don't ask me to-" Before he could finish, Leon's sentence was interrupted, just like that.

"It's not a request, it's an order." The king growled, his voice capable of sending shivers down your spine.

You could hear Leon trying to justify himself, but you couldn't hear anything properly, because Leornado was running over him every time, not letting the prince say anything other than a few mumbles.

"That's it! I don't want to hear any more about your recklessness! Put an end to this mess you've made of yourself!" Leonardo's sharp voice was unmistakable.

" Now then, father. I'm not a kid anymore-" And once again Leon was interrupted.

"Then act like a man! Honor what's between your legs. I won't let you destroy your future on a mere whim."

The next thing you heard was something heavy hitting the wall, it sounded like something similar to a punch.

"You're being irreverent, father." Leon says, you could sense the hatred in his voice just by his tone.

"Two days, and that's all you have to end any ties with that woman." The sentence took you aback, how far had it come? To the point where two monarchs had to argue about it.

Not only that, but Leonardo's abrupt intervention seemed to be firm, not something for the moment. He seemed destined to maintain the integrity of his kingdom.

"If you ever speak to that woman again, I will send you into exile!" You were stunned, not believing your own ears.

A father exiling his own son? It was an outrage! Was that your cue? Your chance? Or just a distraction? Something you were expecting too much.

"You wouldn't dare." It was Leon who dared to retort, despite everything, he still couldn't accept the whole situation.

Not least because he had always done everything he wanted, and now they were taking away one of the most important things he had in life.

"Don't try your luck, I hold your future in my hands." After that you heard footsteps heading for the door, and you were quick to move away and hide in a nearby corridor.

You managed to sneak into your room after all the mess, and spent the rest of the day there, thinking about the situation. What had you just done?

Afterwards, your temper rose considerably, as you honestly felt that you were being fair by playing the same game as Leon, in a fair and equal way to him.

At that moment you found yourself humming around the room, looking at yourself in the mirror as you wore that beautiful red dress, made by one of the most renowned seamstresses in the kingdom, and the dress was just as beautiful as you imagined. The fabric was soft and sophisticated, the top clinging to your upper body like a bodice. While the bottom was a large skirt, which, with all the underwire you were wearing, made it impossible not to notice how stunningly beautiful the dress was.

You didn't skimp on the jewelry either, you wore the most expensive ones you had, you were destined to be the center of attention tonight.

If not for Leon, then for Chris. Such a good person in the middle of such a mess, you couldn't let the Duke out of your sight that quickly.

When you were ready, you started towards the main hall, where Leon would be waiting for you. With light, graceful steps you made your way to the main hall, and at the same moment all eyes were on you.

The stunning princess, an almost angelic image.

And well, if your intention was to get Leon to gawk at you, well, you succeeded. He looked at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on.

And at the same moment, he moved towards the bottom of the stairs, wanting to get close to you quickly.

And you were drawn to him like a moth is drawn to light, you knew it would go wrong at some point that night, but you honestly couldn't care less.

Everything around you seemed to stop when you felt Leon's hand on yours, not before he pressed a kiss to the back of your hand, letting his lips linger there for a short while.

It was a magnetism you couldn't explain, sometimes it even sounded stupid, but something about Leon made you severely attracted to him somehow, even if he acted in an uncordial way, something about him was mesmerizing.

"You look stunning, princess." Leon said in a whisper, giving you that gallant smile that made you weak in the knees.

You didn't know if it was a lie, if he really meant it and thought it was so, but his affectionate way made you forget all the bad things that had already happened.

This time you let it go, not wanting to think too much about whether he was being sincere or not, maybe for one night it was worth forgetting. After all, it wasn't hard to deny that you were radiant, it wasn't hard to see that something had brightened your day.

But of course you also noticed that Leon was strangely calm, which was odd given what had happened before. It wasn't hard to guess that Leon was the type to never give up so easily, so something seemed uncommon about this situation.

Perhaps he had something in mind, or perhaps he had taken his father's threat as a bluff. But in any case, he was calm, peaceful, so at peace that it was a bit of a surprise.

But if it's going to be like this, there's nothing better than enjoying the small tenderness of such a moment.

As the two of you walked around the ball to talk to the nobles, you could see Leon's incessant gaze on you, he literally watched your every gesture and movement. You didn't know what it was, but he always kept his attention on you. Something about the way he looked at you made you feel butterflies blooming in your stomach. Looking into his eyes like that reminded you of the ocean, so beautiful but also so treacherous.

In the meantime you also caught a glimpse of Chris, who was in a corner talking to a lady. Probably those dames who were desperate to find a husband, you could tell by the way the girl giggled and touched his arm every now and then.

Seeing that you were looking at Chris, even smiling at him, Leon couldn't let that happen. As a man he had to uphold his honor, so without thinking too much he pulled you in to dance with him, not asking if you wanted to or not. He just did.

You looked at him in surprise, catching yourself frowning at his sudden attitude, as well as the intimate gesture of putting his hand on your waist, in one swift movement gluing his body against yours.

"I'm lucky to have you for a wife." Leon says, his voice echoing in your ears, his warm breath caressing your skin.

Was that a fallacy or an illusion? He didn't think you'd believe it that easily. But maybe... Just maybe.

"I can say the same for you, Your Highness." You say back, keeping your tone clipped, trying to hide the effect he was beginning to have on you.

But you couldn't hide your goosebumps, your flushed cheeks and that cursed accelerated respiration.

"You're not wearing the jewelry I gave you." He notes, taking the opportunity to twirl you around the room.

You didn't wear it by coincidence, you didn't think it matched the dress you chose for tonight. But apparently he saw it differently. An insult.

"I didn't think it suited the occasion, Your Highness." You say, and you saw his lips twitch when you called him Your Highness. So much formality, for your husband?

"You should, I told you I'd like you to wear it." Of course, his demands. How could you expect anything different?

"I don't remember, forgive me." Even though you tried, there was an undertone of stubbornness in your voice. And it didn't go unnoticed by him.

He put himself even closer to you, spinning you around and over at the dance, always keeping you in his grasp, in his arms. And even with all the anguish he caused you, he was so handsome, so easy to believe in, so tempting.

You got so lost in his expressions that you didn't even notice when he took you out of the main hall, away from the curious eyes that were there. In the blink of an eye you were in one of the corridors, his gaze looking deep into your soul.

"If there's one thing I appreciate, it's a woman's loyalty. Especially yours, dear wife." Leon says, his tone laced with a certain malice, something else that you couldn't quite put your finger on.

You didn't understand where the phrase came from, but you saw him glance briefly at Chris, who was on the other side of the dance. And of course you had already heard some buzz about your 'little escapade' with Chris, about the indecent things you two might have done. If only they'd known who the unfaithful one was.

"We can't ask something of someone if we can't be mutual." The words came out of your mouth in the blink of an eye, even you didn't fully expect it.

Leon's response was mockery, his face contorting into what looked like an expression of anger. But he was able to mask it afterwards.

How reckless of you to answer to your own husband, where was your manners? You should behave like a woman, not a tyrant.

"I didn't understand the insinuation, dear." He murmured, his tone so dark that it made something in you shiver.

"Forgive me. I didn't mean to insult you." You said in the calmest, most innocent voice you could muster, feigning ignorance.

At that same moment, you felt Leon pushing you against the wall, both his hands gripped around your waist. You couldn't move even if you wanted to.

"Don't worry, I believe it was naïve of you." He says calmly, that look that was once cold becoming something more.

The haughty façade was giving way to his controlling and manipulative side. It wasn't in Leon's nature to accept things just like that, not now and not ever.

He gave a cynical little smile, pushing you a little further against the wall, his fingers tightening around your waist. The way he looked at you gave you such shivers.

It felt like you were looking at the ocean, that captivating shade of blue in his eyes, as if you were admiring the depths of the waters.

"There's something you should have learned by now, princess." He whispered, his voice bringing out something in you, a warmth rising in your body, a foreign feeling.

You found yourself blushing, biting your lip as you stared at him. And that feeling of warmth only increased when he moved closer, letting his lips linger on your ear.

"I always gamble to win," he said, making your goosebumps rise as he breathed on your ear, "and I always win."

It was the last thing he said, taking the opportunity to kiss your earlobe, you could see him smiling in the corner as he watched your reaction.

He had you in the palm of his hand at that moment, he knew that very well.

"There's always a first time for everything..." You manage to say back, trying somehow to be as bold as him.

But despite the harsh words, your expression gave you away completely. How could he take you seriously with you blushing so much? Your cheeks as red as strawberries. Or the way you, without the slightest intention, looked at him with sly eyes. As if you wanted to earn something.

All the reaction you got from him was a low chuckle, you felt his lips come down to your jaw, so close to your neck that he couldn't help himself, and he let your sweet smell into his nostrils.

"No, darling. I don't think you understand." He says more firmly, this time letting his free hand grip your chin, forcing your gaze to focus on him.

"I never lose. No matter what it costs me." This line of his could imply so many things, you felt your thinking was all out of place.

Was he doing it out of a sense of competition? Because he didn't want to lose to Chris? Or maybe because he wanted to have ownership over something that wasn't his. You.

He didn't like losing, and probably wanted to keep you in his clutches whatever the cost. If he had you in the palm of his hand, he'd have access to a more than healthy kingdom, just as if he had an obedient wife, he'd have no problems.

A wife who would give him heirs, stay with him in good and bad, in sickness and in health, waiting for him while he cared for the crowd. So perfect.

But oh, he was so wrong if he thought you would fulfill that role. So damn wrong.

As you looked at each other like that, you smiled a little, letting your hand rest on his forearm.

"We have something in common, Your Highness." You say calmly, looking at him tensely.

Once he opened his mouth to speak, you indelicately spoke over him, "I'm not in the habit of losing either."

That was that, the disagreement was more than exposed.

Cheeky, disdainful, petulant and impolite. That's how you were acting, far from any decency you had been taught.

You watched as Leon stuck his tongue in his teeth, glaring at you in a defiant manner.

"You need better manners, dear. Maybe you should remember how a woman should act." God knows how that sentence made your blood rise, but it did.

But the look in his eyes said so many things, it was so convincing, not least because he knew that you would be his tomorrow, whether you wanted to be or not.

Not least because he was your future husband, wasn't he?

The dance would continue, and so would the evening. The roles of husband and wife duly filled, painful words veiled in the sweetness of love.

You might have hated him, but there was no escape. So much so that you thought nothing of it, and once again he led you to dance in that ballroom.

The journey was far from over, as was all your frustration. Because he wouldn't let you leave his side.

No, you'd be with him all night. Romantic? Maybe to the blind eye of the real situation, but oh, that's what you're here for, isn't it?

Continue the theater, people are watching.

Taglist: @gollumsmygel, @quemmysworld, @loveoverdosing, @delulusimps, @d3jecteddoll, @kennedyleyy, @acriixys, @deredvv, @luminehallowss

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #leon x y/n #leon x you #leon resident evil #leon scott kennedy x reader #resident evil leon #leon scott kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #leon smut

[wood-white-writer]

“Didn’t mean to make your heart Blue” || [9/…]

— OPLA!Buggy x F!Reader

“And I know no one will save me, I just need someone to kiss.

Give me one good honest kiss and I’ll be alright.”

— Mitski, “Nobody”

Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live Action) x F!Reader

Parts: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Summary: You were an apprentice of Gol D. Roger’s crew in your youth, long before his eventual demise. Along with the Red-Haired Shanks and Buggy, you were a formidable trio; the embodiment of a new generation of pirates yet to come. But times changed, and so did you and your friends.  In which there is lost affections, mentions of the past, and re-bonding over a bath. Unshared thoughts and feelings of regret return from years of negligence, and whereas some aspects remain buried, others have a chance to resurface from the depths.

Warnings: fem!reader, LA!Verse, slight canon divergence, morally grey reader, mentions of violence and blood, dual-pov (though primarily Buggy's), Buggy being a simp, implications of Buggy being a horny simp

A/N: AND HERE WE ARE! FINALLY, AFTER SO MANY WEEKS, THE NEW CHAPTER IS UP! Seriously, I want to thank you all for your immense patience and support. As I mentioned in a previous post, work has been hectic as hell and I know I wrote that this chapter would hopefully be finished last week, but life took its toll. Hopefully, you'll enjoy this chapter, though I myself have mixed feelings about it.

INCLUDES SOME SELF-MADE SKETCHES AT THE BOTTOM, so you’re warned

The sun warms your face as you breathe in the fresh scent of the sea. You’re lounging on deck, hands folded behind your head and feet hanging over the railings in a rather peculiar position, but you’re perfectly content.

Luffy benched you for the rest of the voyage to Arlong Park, a decision you initially found insulting to no short degree. Well, maybe benched is not the right term to use, but more like “I don’t want you to die, and I think you need to relax this once”.

You had argued that no, you’re fine and the love bites Arlong left you are nothing compared to the marks Mihawk left on Zoro, and he’s still up and about as usual.

But Luffy is firm about his decision, and what the Captain says goes.

So, here you are, enjoying some quiet all while letting your wounds heal, and it seems that nothing can hope to put an end to this ambiance that is—

“HEY! THERE ‘YA ARE!”

…. You spoke too soon. Way too soon.

A shadow falls over your face like a curtain and blocks the view of the sun. A shadow belonging to - you make a lucky guess - a severed head that’s been talking for way longer than a severed head typically should, in your experience.

You open one lazy eye to pinpoint the exact perpetrator and see a bright red dot staring down at you from Usopp’s grip.

Buggy winks at you, making those mildly irritating clink-clink noises.

“I can’t stand it anymore,” Usopp grumbles. “You take him! He’s annoying and keeps telling me my nose is too long!”

“Because it is, you shidiot!”

“It’s average!”

“That’s what your mom said!”

“You keep my mom’s name out of your mouth, you psychotic, fucking—!”

“Be quiet.”

Both the clown and the slingshot simultaneously shut their mouths before things have a chance to escalate on a non-verbal scale, and you take this as a sign that your break is officially over and buried ten feet under.

Stretching your arms out loud enough to pop a few vertebrae, you shift to lean your back against the railing and give both boys an unimpressed look-over, like a disappointed mother having caught both of her children in the act of something. “It’s too early for you to be making a ruckus.”

“It’s 11 am,” Usopp points out.

“Still too early.” Deciding that you’d rather not deal with this with more effort than you’re willing to spend, you return to your previous position. “Leave the head, or don’t. Just let me rest.”

“Fine by me.”

With a thud and an “OW FUCK!”, Usopp unceremoniously drops the clown and forgoes his Buggy-sitting duties to do whatever he wants to do, leaving you to pick up the slack.

A string of curses flow from Buggy’s mouth, which you only vaguely pay attention to. There was something along the lines of “Long-nosed asshat,” and “Right on the nose”, but you abandon all interest in favor of feeling the sun on your cheek.

“So…” you hear him jump a little closer. “Alone at last.”

You don’t answer.

“What? Don’t give me that! I thought we were good!”

You remain selectively mute.

“Hey! Don’t ignore me! I don’t like it!”

“You survived it for twenty years. I’m sure you can stand it for a few more minutes.”

“…. Seriously?”

“Mhmm.”

You don’t know what possesses him, but he keeps quiet for most of the next thirty minutes, and you take the time to continue basking in the sun. 

It’s a luxury you can rarely afford, and you’ll be damned if it gets ruined now or all time, least of all by him. You’re not going to even open the can of worms that is last night’s events, so you lock it in a chest to be dug up for another day. 

Not now. It won't be that long until you reach Arlong Park, and shit will go down. This might be the only chance you get to replenish your strength and gods do you need it now more than ever.

"… Hey?” Buggy starts.

You let him decide whether to perceive your silence as an opening or a locked door.

“I’m bored.”

“Tough.”

“Can’t we do something else?”

“We could fish. Your head might serve as a good bait.” Despite yourself, your lip tugs a little in what is supposed to be a halfway smirk. The image of Buggy dangling above the shark-infested waters from a hook to his bandana would be an entertaining sight to behold.

He swallows audibly. “Was that a joke?”

“Keep bothering me and we’ll find out soon enough.”

“C’mon! Don’t be like that! Seriously, I’m bored! Ain’t much you can do when you’re just a head… except to give one, but that’s beside the point.”

Too much detailing, you think. He wants entertainment of any kind; you want peace and quiet. What to do and how to kill two birds with one stone? You open one eye and let it drift over to Buggy, who in turn is staring intently at you. 

In the sun, you make out every detail of his rugged face. His make-up’s almost wiped completely off the skin, with only remnants of the red lipstick and blue diamonds vaguely in place. His stubbles have grown slightly, given the lack of access to a barber, and if you get close enough, he probably stinks of—

A lightbulb goes off in your head. A devious one, blinking to every corner of your brain. 

Despite what anyone thinks, you’re not above being petty.

With a push, you sit up and glance over at him. “Anything?” 

Buggy raises his eyebrows and nods desperately. “Yeah! Anything! As long as I ain’t got to sit here doing naught-shit, I’m game!”

You turn to him, put each of your hands to the edges of his jaw, and lift him a little closer to you. Whether from the sun or just him alone, he’s warm and soft under your digits.

“Alright,” is all you say.

Buggy beams much like the bulb in your head, and a loud bark of laughter erupts from his mouth. You almost pity him, pity him for being oblivious to what’s to come.

But it needs to be done.

There’s no other way around it and he’s had it coming. He deserves this, you tell yourself. He deserves every inch of ruthlessness you can offer, and you’ll deliver.

————

Buggy blanches, lips wobbling in horror as he slowly glances up at you. Betrayal fills his bright-blue eyes and, for the first time since Orange Town, he sees you as the beast you both know you are. 

He’s afraid.

He’s afraid of you.

He knows you can be vindictive; he knows you can be brutal, but in all the time he’s known you, he’s never perceived you as cruel.

Maybe it’s time for him to reassess that thought.

“No,” he whispers softly. “No, please.”

Your face is blank, and cold, and he doesn’t know if it’s a trick of the light or not, but there’s a shadow across your face that darkens everything but your eyes. Those bright eyes he used to hold in such high regard.

“You want my forgiveness,” you state calmly as you gradually lower him to his demise. “You have to earn it.

“Please, anything but this. I’ll do anything other than this!”

But his pleas earn no mercy from you. He wiggles in your grasp like a fish out of water, and as much as he tries to beg and move and free himself, your hold is iron incarnate.

Buggy lets out an ear-curdling scream the moment he feels the water under his neck.

“NOOOOO!”

————

Honestly, how childish, you think as you begin to soak him in the basin you procured from the kitchens. He hisses like a cat as you pour the water over his head, rinsing his hair. Try as he might, he cannot escape your grasp. 

It’s not even deep enough to reach his chin, and still, he acts like it’s acid he’s been thrown into.

But you’re determined, this has to be done.

“Oh, quit whining” you chastise, getting drops of water your way with all his scuttling. “You need this.”

“You’re gonna drown me!” he accuses.

“It’s soap and water, and it’s not even that deep.”

“You say that now, sure! But the moment you let go, plop! Oh, there goes Buggy the Clown! Taken from this world too early!”

You roll your eyes. “I’m holding you up, you’re not going to drown. Now, stop acting like a child.”

Buggy is restless and continues to thrash around for a good ten seconds more before finally relenting, a look of sour disapproval on his face. It’s so caricatured and animated that it threatens to make a suppressed chuckle leave your throat.

He still looks the same when he’s mad.

Now that he’s finally calm, you lower him so that the edge of his neck finally stands on the bottom of the basin. Then, you soak a rag and raise it towards his face.

Buggy flinches. “Can you …. Eh… leave the face?”

“There’s hardly anything there anymore, and it’ll irritate your skin if you leave it on for too long.”

“I think I can tell you what irritates me or not, like this bird bath for instance, thank you very much.” He scowls and edges further away from the wet rag. “Seriously, just leave it.”

“I’ll reapply the make-up.”

“… What?”

When you first boarded the Merry, you happened to find some leftover make-up hidden away in one of the shelves. It was strange, considering how the boat was freshly built, and imagined that one of the builders had taken some personal liberty in the large space before the project was finished.

For whatever reason, you didn’t throw it out, though you didn’t use it yourself.

If it can get him to accept the fact that he needs a wash, you’re willing to do it.

“I’ll put on your make-up if I can wash off what you currently have,” you clarify. “Deal?”

Buggy goes quiet, and his eyes widen slightly, but not out of horror or dread. It’s more like … when you catch the sight of something unexpected; a delayed reaction that stirs feelings you have yet to decipher. 

Finally, after some internal debates with himself, Buggy nods. “Fuckin’ fine then,” he utters, and despite the crudeness of his words, they’re lenient.

Content, you gently place your free hand to his left to keep him stable and use the other one to carefully drag the rag across his stained cheek. 

Buggy watches you intently through the process, never taking his eyes off you unless you’re wiping off the painted diamonds on his eyes. Your hands, for once, are soft to the touch. They’re soft for him, as though a single misplaced touch might shatter him like glass.

He used to be acquainted with the soft touches long before the cold and brutal ones. Soft fingers that pinched his cheeks as you helped apply the paint over his face. 

Soft touches against his arm when he was feeling particular for some reason, whether it was good or bad.

Your fingers intertwined with his’ as you came to terms with your captain’s death, sitting by the edge of the docks as the rain poured from above. It was cold, he was freezing, and too close to the waters for his comfort, but he wanted nothing more than to sit in the rain with you and share the heat from your fingers.

Even after everything, you’re still capable of reserving those touches for him.

After wiping the makeup completely off him, you raise the cup and fill it with water. “Close your eyes.”

He doesn’t want to, but he does and feels the water rushing down like the rain on those docks.

When he’s finally finished, you fish him up from the basin and put him down atop a soft towel on the table. Like a cat, he instinctively shakes off the residue of water, only to find you already raising a new towel towards him.

He stops moving, and you takes this as your cue to continue. You’re attentive, he notices. You wipe his face first, then his ears, then his hair. You dry it and scratch his scalp at the same time through the fabric, and he instinctively leans against your touch.

This is … nice.

“When did you cut your hair?” You ask out of the blue as you continue to dry him, making sure to leave no spot too humid.

He almost failed to catch onto your words with how at ease he is. “Hmmm?”

“You used to have long hair before,” you elaborate. “Why did you cut it?”

“…. Too much of a hassle to maintain,” he answers after some thought. “It’s hard to find the time to take care of it.”

“… I see.”

The truth is, he cut it right after he left. Not particularly clean either. You know that feeling you get when you feel like you’re losing control, and ridding yourself of any additional weight seems to relieve it? 

Well, that’s what Buggy did.

He cut it with a pair of rusty scissors, severing chunks at a time — some bigger than others — until all he was left with was pieces sticking out to each side like a madman.

It didn’t help though. It didn’t make him feel any lighter from the weight on his chest. From that gnawing feeling.

Still, he maintained the habit and got better with practice. It became more of a practical thing with time; he was a busy man, and he could do well with fewer things to get in his eyes, but it never eased the pain.

But feeling the tips of your fingers lightly graze his hair, however, he feels more relieved than he’s done in the last twenty years.

After a few minutes, you remove the towel and give him a neutral one-over. It’s the first time you’ve seen him as an adult without any of that makeup, and you’re reminded of just how much he’s changed, but also how he’s not.

Even after all this time, it’s still Buggy.

Buggy sees you watching him, and he can’t help but feel slightly self-conscious now that your eyes are on him without his usual armor.

But you don’t comment on it, nor show any surprise in any sense of the word. There are times when he hates your face, not because of anything superficial, but because you make it so damn challenging for him to figure out what goes in that brain of yours. He’s reminded of how you were when you were younger, how lifeless you used to be, and it feels like you’ve regressed to that state.

Another thing to add to the shitlist of things he’s regretful about.

He licks his lips and opens his mouth to say something when the door suddenly bursts open. Buggy jumps whereas you merely look over your shoulder to spot Zoro standing there, his eyes narrowed between you and the clown.

Buggy frowns.

“Zoro,” you speak plainly, as if you failed to notice his annoyance towards the spectacle presented before him. “Is there anything?”

“The hell is this?” His eyes flicker between you and Buggy like it’s the worst show on earth. “What’s going on?”

“He reeked,” you explain. “I have merely been rectifying it for the sake of our noses.”

Buggy wants to argue with the statement that No, he fucking doesn’t, but he suppresses it for the sake of figuring out where this conversation’s headed.

“Since when do we make it a habit of bathing prisoners?” Zoro asks, his hand resting on the handle of his sword.

“Since when have we had prisoners?” You counter.

The swordsman scoffs. “The clown’s needed upstairs in ten.”

“Sure.”

“I’m right here, you know?”

Zoro gives him a nasty look and nothing more before heading back out the door, shutting it with a forceful thud.

“Why do you even stick around with these nobodies?!” Buggy questions. “They can’t navigate for shit, they have no sense of preservation, and they suck at fighting!”

You shift back to raise a knowing eyebrow at him. “They defeated you, didn’t they?”

“That’s—! … I was outnumbered, it wasn’t a fair fight!”

“No fights are fair in the life of piracy,” you point out. 

He bites the inside of his cheek. “All I’m saying is, you’re too powerful to be with these losers. You could join my crew! Think about it! We’d be unstoppable!”

“You mean, join the same people who locked me up and whose asses I subsequently kicked?” 

“Exactly! Don’t worry, they’ll get over it! Once they see how awesome you are, they’ll accept you with open ar—!”

“I decline.”

Buggy pauses, his enthusiasm promptly vanishing and getting replaced with bitter disappointment. “You’re not even going to consider it?”

“Why would I?” You wipe away a descending drop from his right eye. “I have no interest in joining another crew.”

“You say that, and yet here you are with these losers.”

“I was never going to stay permanently.” 

He pauses. “You weren’t?”

“I’m here for Luffy, and once I’ve decided that he can hold his own weight above the waters, I’ll leave.”

“… Where will you go? After, then?”

It takes you a moment to answer, like you don’t know the answer yourself quite yet. Your hand stills for a moment before resuming with the task at hand.

“Who knows?” You shrug. “The sea is my home. I’ve missed it, so I will remain where the waves pull me.”

That won’t do on its own. Stay with me. Buggy wants to ask, and if he had knees, he’d ask on them. Come with me. Be with me. You won’t have to be an official member of his crew; you don’t have to bend to him. You just have to stay. 

Stay with him.

That’s all he’ll ask.

Stay with him until he has the opportunity to figure out a way to make it up to you. 

Stay with him so he can compensate for the twenty years you suffered in each other’s absences.

Just stay.

“Hey.” He’s surprised by his own initiative. “Why’d you even leave your crew and stick your feet on land if you love the sea so much?”

You raise an eyebrow in question.

“I mean, you were Captain of the Cross-Haired Pirates, for crying out loud! You used to be legendary!” He proclaims, almost saddened by your apparent dismissal of your previous title. “You had fame, berries, a reputation that preceded everyone! Everyone feared you! Why’d you ditch all of that? Because of that rubbery prick? Because of Shanks?”

“Is that really what you want to ask me?”

“Yeah!”

You sigh through your nose and put the towel down to recline in your chair. “I didn’t become a Captain because that’s what I wanted. I became a Captain because it provided an outlet.”

“An outlet? For fucking what?”

It takes you a few seconds to finally reach a suitable response. 

“Anger,” you admit calmly, your arms crossing over your chest as the words stir on your tongue. They must taste bitter. “I was angry, and it festered every day, churning into a poisonous substance in my body. Being a captain with a crew, I could take it out on whoever I wanted. Pirate, marine, unruly crew member, it didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered.”

It makes sense now, he thinks, the reputation you’ve garnered over the years. Beware the Beast in the East, people would chant in passing towns and harbors, like you were a ghost story. Her eyes were like swords, and her hands were twice as sharp.

There wasn’t a single place where blood didn’t paint your steps.

He never met you while you were a captain; he didn’t want to, couldn’t find it in himself to pop by even once. Still, he kept your poster hidden in the dark depths of the chest in his quarters, if only for acrimonious reminiscence. He would spend some drunken nights doing nothing but staring at it, and it was like he could feel your rage seep through the ink on the page and scorch his fingers. A reminder of what he did.

Now, looking at you and comparing you to the poster, he fails to see the resemblance. He doubts he could’ve spotted it had you reunited earlier on. Captain Cross-Hairs was sharp around the edges, with pecks of blood on her cheeks and fresh scars on her face.

He licks his lips in deliberation. “You were pissed… because of what?”

Because of me?

“I don’t know.” He watches your chest expand with your breath, mesmerized simply by watching you commit to living. There used to be a time when you didn’t. “I didn’t care about money or power. I didn’t care for much of anything, except to purge that rage from my body. I fought, and I killed. It helped, for a time; I felt satisfied, but after a while, you grow bored of eating the same meal.”

When he looked at you when you were younger, he imagined he saw the scorching sun. Burning and bright and enlightening. 

You were … everything, but he never imagined that the same fire that used to mesmerize him would burn a thousand ships in his absence. 

But he was a boy back then. He’s older now, more experienced in the ways of life, he knows better.

He knows enough.

"But the boy," you say with a certain gentleness in your voice that does not evade his notice. "He's good."

"He's weak," Buggy scoffs, feeling his belly fill with sour smoke. He recognizes the feeling. It's the feeling he got when he watched Shanks talk to you that night by the fire. The same feeling he got when he watched you stay with Shanks that day. 

"He's defeated every opponent he's come across."

"Didn't beat Arlong, though." Buggy points out with a smidgen of childish pride and smirks. "Got his ass handed to him real good if I remember correctly."

You look back at him in that narrow way you usually reserve for him when he's crossed a line, and he can already tell he fucked up.

"I watched him grow, Buggy.” You say firmly. “I was there for all of it. I watched him learn, I watched him fight, I watched him leave land. He’s not like us — he doesn’t waste time on regret. He’ll become better than we ever were.”

Buggy glowers but doesn’t say anything else, insisting on letting your words simmer in his brain until he can find the will to let them go.

You procure something from the drawers and it’s only when he looks down that he realizes it’s the make-up. With gentle hands, you lift him and place him in your lap, the brush already blue and ready.

“I’m not here to talk about what used to be,” you say. “Now hold still.”

The diamonds across his eyes come first, the brushing makes his face tickle and it’s only by sheer willpower alone that he manages to refrain from staring at you. 

“Takes us back,” he whispers and closes his eyes so that you can finish. “Doesn’t it?”

He hears something akin to a chortle that doesn’t quite reach your throat, but he considers it a small win.

“You looked a mess,” you answer. “A child could’ve done a better job than I did.”

“Wasn’t bad for your first try, though.”

Except that it was. It was pretty bad. Your hands were shaking, and you held your breath like you were afraid of making a mistake. By the time you were finished, he looked like a canvas painted by a child, but he didn’t have the heart to tell you that.

He used to think that it was strange. You were skilled at nearly everything you committed yourself to, without even trying. 

When he thinks back on it, maybe it wasn’t skill; maybe it was just an ingrained fear of failure that drove you to become the best at what you did.

Then again, your worst could never be the worst in his eyes.

You finish his eyes, and when he looks up at you, he sees the same determination and focus in your eyes as he did that day. It’s the same look you have when you’re targeting something, be it an enemy or a point of interest. It’s always the same.

And he can’t look away.

You move onto the crossbones next, and he’s happy he won’t have to close his eyes for this one. He’s not certain you can pull off his iconic look, but he’ll give you the benefit of the doubt for now.

After all, you strive for perfection. He doubts this will be an exception.

Get it? Perfection and except— You know what? Nevermind.

He can feel your attention in every stroke of the brush, feel the white paint glisten on his skin before it dries. Your warmth lingers like burning embers, he feels like getting too close will burn him, yet he wants nothing more than blisters upon his skin.

He looks at you, looks into your focused eyes, and he feels … something tightening, back where his body is. It could be his stomach, his head… other places, but he can’t tell. Arlong’s been busy abusing his body long enough that he can’t differentiate between a kick or a punch anymore.

But this isn’t Arlong.

It’s you.

He can handle a tight body if it’s because of you.

When he was young, and his body began to work in the way of a man, he would sometimes wake up and feel sweaty and … stiff. He knew enough to know what it was, to know what caused it, but he didn’t know how to approach the situation.

He knew the source of his frustrations. He knew how to alleviate them, but he didn’t. He respected you far too much to ever dare cross the threshold. He figured that simply talking to you, simply holding your hand, and being at your side would be enough. He would be content with just that.

But he watched you … develop. It didn’t seem like such a big deal at the time, but he couldn’t help but marvel at the sight. He imagined feeling your flesh under his digits. The softness across your chest and hips. The warm skin. 

He looks at you now, sees the scars peeking from under your shirt, on your face, and he wants to feel the rough edges. 

Buggy gulps and he’s rather happy now that the rest of his body is not attached to him. He’s lost enough dignity as it is.

“And now, the mouth.”

Yes, he wants to touch that t—

You take the lipstick, and in a straight line, smear it across his mouth in a way that snaps him out of his thoughts. He can feel the warmth emitting from your thumb as you finish his face, and it takes him half a mind not to—

“Done.”

Disappointment lingers in the clown’s visage, and even when you present him a mirror and see the identical likeness to his wanted posters, it does not alleviate the feeling. For what it's worth, he's impressed with how far your make-up-applying skills have reached since last time. 

It's perfect.

But it means you’re done, and the nobodies require his flashy expertise to get Miss Ginger back. 

You dump the discolored water out and put the rest of the equipment away, and he feels his head weigh another ten pounds at so. He somewhat hopes it would; maybe it would be heavy enough that you wouldn’t bother carrying him up the deck?

… Oh, who is he kidding? It’s you. You won’t have any trouble in that department even if he were to weigh as much as a boulder. Ten boulders, even.

To his surprise, instead of reaching for him, you lounge back into your seat and nonchalantly cross your arms and ankles. He’s confused. Weren’t you going to go up with him already?

“If Zoro needs you, he can get you himself.”

That’s what you’ll leave it be like. He, freshly washed, dried, and painted. You, just casually sitting like you have no urgency to get back to the world.

“He’ll be pissed at you,” Buggy warns. “And probably threaten to throw you into the sea.”

You shrug, your eyes already closed, giving him no indication whatsoever that you’re particularly concerned with the veryscary swordsman. He grins with all his teeth on show.

Unfortunately, the green-haired asshole turns up not even five minutes later. All but ripping the clown by the roots of his hair and taking him away like a sack of flour. Buggy spews curses and threats, but they all fall on deaf ears.

It’s only when he’s positioned on deck that he’s finally free of his torment, if only for an hour or two. He begrudgingly instructs the long-nosed slingshot where to sail, adding a few creative insults along the way. Hey, it’s not Buggy’s fault they’re too easy to rile up.

“Is that long nose compensating for something?”

To which he earned a slap to the back of his head. From whom, he doesn’t know, but he’ll take his victories in whatever light weight they come in.

After a while, he shifts his head to eject another insult to the slingshot when he sees that you’re standing a few feet away, your arms crossed while leaning against the railing; eyes closed but face focused and attentive.

He cuts his verbal daggers down a notch.

It gets late, the sky darkens, and one after another, the crew members resign to their chambers save for the slingshot, who still insists on going for a while longer. Him, and you, surprisingly enough. 

You stay, for all of it; neither complaining nor muttering a sound. 

You're stoically positioned on the sidelines, hardly moving at all. He would've died if he'd been standing in the same position for more than one hour, but you endured a total of six without a shiver or a strain. Like a soldier in the rain. A monk in a temple of thorns. 

A beast in an empty forest, lonesome in its hunger, yet content with what content remains buried in its stomach for the time being.

Long-nosed slingshot finally calls it a night and withdraws from the steering wheel with his hands outreached for the head. Before his dirty fingers can hope to graze the magnificent head that is Buggy's, you stretch your arm out like a shield between them.

"I'll take him."

Slingshot snorts. "Really? You want to?"

"Do you want to?"

With his hands raised in mock surrender, Slingshot relents. "... Fine, be my guest."

With a nod, you take the head and retire back to your chamber on the ship. Buggy yawns in your arms, tired, but satisfied with the warmth embracing him. Your steps feel like waves with each one you take, nudging him further and further toward the edge of sleep. Only unadulterated stubbornness keeps him awake.

It darkens for a moment. When he rouses back, he feels softness underneath him. A pillow of sorts, not comforting enough to offer him sleep, but enough to keep him relaxed.

He nudges around, like a fish in a small bowl, only to find that he's not on the table, nor in a barrel, nor a bag. The surface beneath him is made of fabric, and swings with his movements. 

He's in a hammock.

More precisely, your hammock.

“Sleep.” He hears your command. 

He finally locates you, seated by the window of your cabin with your palm under your chin, staring out into the darkened ocean.

He turns, voice diluted with drowsiness. “You too…”

“Soon.”

“Now," he almost whines.

The look you give him is not any different from the kind you usually provide, but it lacks the usual undertone of annoyance. He can tell you're tired, even if you're refusing to show it. The shadows under your eyes stand out more prominently, even in the dimmed candlelight. 

With an inaudible sigh, you stand and while he expects you to move towards the hammock, he's disappointed to see you aiming towards the door instead.

"H-Hey, where are you going?"

"The kitchens," you respond. "You can sleep here for the night; I'll take the couch."

"That's not necessary!" He wiggles so that he can look at you from over the edge of the hammock, careful as not to fall from the height. A thought dawns over him, one that makes his cheeks feel warm. "We- We can share! I don't take a lot of space!"

"You still take up too much of it."

"Are you calling me fat?!"

He's almost insulted when you don't answer to contradict his assumption, yet despite the innate urge to defend his honor and spew shit at you, he decides to let it slide.

"C'mon! I promise I'll behave," he tries again. "You'll hardly notice me. Those couches suck balls anyway, so why not?"

He watches you give it some thought for probably a good two minutes. He expects you'll decline his proposition, finding that your own pride weighs more than the need for decent sleep. 

Then, you lower your shoulders in defeat and make your way over to the hammock. "Scoot over."

He obliges rather excitedly, and when he wiggles back a bit too much to make space, he can feel gravity threaten to drop him on the other side of the hammock. Before it gets to that point, you grab him by the side of his face and hold him until you can lift yourself and lay down. 

Only then do you lay him down, on the right side of your abdomen. He's mindful of the wounds that have yet to heal there, so he tries not to invade too much. Still, he can't deny, he's quite comfortable. Very comfortable. 

He's the most comfortable he's been in a long time - twenty years.

He surpasses the urge to push closer to you, share your warmth, and elects to look up at the ceiling instead.

"Hope you don't snore," he jokes, only to have a yawn follow promptly behind.

"I don't snore," you answer, deadpan. "Now go to sleep."

He's not convinced, but he doesn't comment on it. This peace hangs by a thread, and he'll be damned if it's cut short now of all times. He shuts his eyes, and in his dreams, he's presented with the sun on the blue skies above.

He feels warm all over.

----

Taglist: @kurinhimenezu, @carpinchootaku, @ay0nha, @teh-vampire-bunny, @lokiscure, @internationalsuper-spy, @detectivesparrow , @yuriwk , @notyuralycat, @angeli-fucking-cat, @machinema7k , @shuujin, @avatar-lover, @gingernut1314, @autumn-slaves. @marvelouskatie, @floristoflillys, @dizzyenby, @redpool, @deliri-yum22, @aemondsb1tch, @ackroxia, @gayandfairycore, @knightsfavoriteprincess, @asterizee, @aamethyst23, @lizzie1107, @cyberwears, @heylookliisten, @f41k47, @beep-beep1, @crimsonflameproxy, @unpopular-sober-thoughts, @rayleeya, @timeladyrikaofgallifrey, @fanshavegottensotoxic, @fluffybunnyu, @sirenmelody23

(If you want to be tagged for this story, just send me a message or leave a comment :))

(Additionally, some sketches of how I imagine Cross-Hairs to look like while I’m writing.)

#buggy the clown #buggy x reader #one piece live action #buggy the clown x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #buggy one piece #buggy x you #buggy the clown fanfiction #buggy x female reader #DMTMYHB #didn’t mean to make your heart blue

[lokisprettygirl]

Under his influence (Post Avengers! Loki x female reader)

Read chapter 7 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 8

Summary : Loki is taken away from you and you fear that he'll forget you just like everyone else.

Warning: mention of psychological torture, bit of angst

So this was happening. Like really happening. You were standing in the middle of your apartment with two gods giving deathly glares to each other, if looks could kill they would both be dead right now.

"So i–" before you could finish your sentence Thor interrupted you. That was Thor, the god of thunder, the Asgardian god everyone lusted after, the man you never thought would be standing in your room someday.

"Are you tired of playing these childish games now brother?" He asked Loki and Loki could only smile in response.

"Games? I haven't even done anything"

"He's right" you mumbled as quietly as you could.

"You fled with the tesseract" Thor raised his voice and you were hoping Mrs Geller had remembered to take her pills today. Otherwise the field day she'd have with this tomorrow will be insane.

"I barely picked it up because it fell right by my feet, I was teleported here, did you want me to surrender myself knowing too well that you'd take me back to Asgard so I am trapped in that forsaken cell for the rest of my life?" Loki glared at him, his voice laced with mixture of anger and sadness so you grabbed his hand and gave him a comforting squeeze. His eyes softened immediately at the touch.

"You commenced a war on earth Loki, what did you think would happen to you? I'm here to take you back to the tower. Let us go now"

He stormed towards Loki so you got in front of him, you were trying to protect a powerful god from an equally powerful god. How smart did you have to be to do that?

"Look he's your brother alright, if you'd just sit down and talk to him about what he did and why he HAD to do it, you'd understand him better –"

"Lady y/n i would advise you not to speak on this matter –" He interrupted you again. For a prince he sure lacked manners.

"She will speak her mind, you daft ill-mannered rhinoceros. Have you forgotten that it's rude to interrupt a lady while she's speaking? Oh!! pardon me you never had such manners to begin with"

"Okay I am–" you were going to say something but then you turned around and grabbed Loki's hands to take him to the kitchen, you could feel Thor's eyes on you both and it made you uncomfortable.

"What is going to happen Loki I'm scared" your eyes teared up, all of this was nerve wracking for you, not knowing what they planned to do to him was terrifying. He cupped your cheeks and kissed your forehead, he could also feel Thor's eyes on him so that was making him act a little differently with you, he had never been one to indulge in such a display of affection before.

"They can not harm me darling, I am the youngest prince of Asgard, worst comes to worst I will be prisoned–"

"Lokiii" your eyes welled up more so he hugged you as tightly as he could, he knew he had to see this someday, he just didn't know it would come so soon. Before he fell asleep he thought about things he wanted to do with you tomorrow but he knew he won't be seeing your pretty face first thing in the morning any longer"Do you perhaps want to accompany me?" He asked you so you pulled away to look at him.

"Lo i.."

"I know it is not appropriate of me to be asking you for this but I just –"

"Stark said she can not come–" Thor chimed in to give his two cents.

"Are you his slave now? Are you willing to accept your truer purpose in life?" Loki answered him, even the way they conversed with each other gave you snappy siblings energy.

"I can't lo.. I have a job here and my family.. I have never been to NYC and ..it's just too much" you placed your hand on your face to control your sobs but it was futile, you really wanted to follow him but you felt afraid, you had never been someone to do something so impulsive in life. Maybe that's why you were left behind while everyone else moved forward and succeeded.

"I understand, just know that I will get back to you as soon as I can" he said to you. He wished you'd have agreed to come with him but he knew he was asking for too much too soon.

"You promise? Promise me that you'll be okay and that I'll see you again"

"I will be back to you i am giving you my word darling" you were going to kiss him but your eyes met with Thor again.

"Can you turn around creep?" You screamed at Thor, his eyes widened for a moment before he turned his back to you both, as soon as he did you got on your tip toes and kissed Loki as passionately as you could. Of Course this was happening to you now, you couldn't have kept him forever anyways, you just feared that he will forget all about you as soon as you're out of his sight, earth was filled with gorgeous women, of course he'd find someone else once he's not trapped in this bubble with you.

"Will you give me a call?" You asked him so he nodded. You sobbed as you felt your heart breaking.

"Why now? You said you knew about this, why didn't you come get him before? Why can't you just let him be? He had suffered enough" You stormed towards Thor so he took a step back.

"It is not my fault that my arrival in your city made national news, they assumed that I knew something, i couldn't lie anymore, maybe I should hone the art of lying. Loki can help"

Loki rolled his eyes at the comment. He was so used to such remarks that it didn't even affect him.

"You're not going to poke a hole in my ceiling right?" You asked Thor so he looked up.

"We shall get back to the roof then"

You grabbed Loki's hand as you all went upstairs, you couldn't stop staring at him, the thought of him not being there in your apartment made you feel horrible, it felt like a breakup, the nastiest breakup you have ever had. Knowing you won't get to cuddle him or kiss him, probably ever again, just made you not want to exist anymore. When did your feelings get this intense for him?

"Princess?"

"Mmmm" you mumbled because you knew you'd cry if you'd even try to talk to him right now .

"Promise me that you will not cry in my absence" Well he wanted you to cry it seems.

"Do you want me to lie?" You looked at him and his heart clenched. He didn't want you to cry because he knew he wouldn't be here to hold you and comfort you. As you all reached the roof Thor waved his hammer and you heard the thundering,

"Wait a moment–" Loki spoke, he wanted to look like an Asgardian before he leaves, one fluck of his fingers and he looked the same as he did the first day you had met him, his hair had gotten longer though.

"Am I ever going to see you again or I'll just be a forgotten memory–" you looked down because the words made you feel choked up.

"You will see me princess, you will see all of me I promise, what you have done for me can never be compared, what I feel for you is irreplaceable" he cupped your cheeks and kissed you softly. His eyes were teary too, all he wanted to do was take you back to that small apartment of yours and snuggle you but it was a luxury he could no longer afford. "Farewell for now, my beloved" he took your hand in his and pressed a small kiss before he stepped away from you.

"If you hurt him, I don't care if it's just a scratch, I swear to god I'll tell everyone about that thing" you said to Thor and he snickered in response.

"What thing?" Thor questioned

"The thing" Loki smirked

"You told her?" Thor glared at him

You smiled at Loki and he returned it. And then they were both gone. Your lo was gone, you couldn't see him and you felt empty without him, you felt hollow, your feet felt stuck on the ground beneath you, you didn't even want to go back to that apartment without him. Why didn't you go with him when he asked you to?

"Ohh goddd" you sat down on the floor because your knees felt too weak to keep you standiy. And then you cried for what seemed like hours, you missed him already, you missed him being close to you. When you entered your apartment it almost made you pass out, you could see him everywhere still, the number of times you wished for him to just appear out of nowhere was intense. The bed smelled like him and though it gave you a moment of relief when you laid down on it, the longer you stayed there the harder it got for you to breathe, your arms craved to hold him and knowing that you won't be able to do any of those things only made you cry yourself to sleep.

In the morning you woke up suddenly and turned the news on to see if there was anything about him. A part of you feared you would be sent to jail but you knew you hadn't done anything wrong. Right?

Everytime you looked around you just saw him, you saw him on that bed sleeping like a baby, you saw him reading his book on that sofa, you saw him watching the tv with that adorable look on his face everytime you came back home.

You waited for three days to see something about him on tv but you saw nothing, he had made no attempt to communicate with you and that kind of made you angry but then the worries kicked in. What had they done to him?

You hardly ate, your body felt sick all the time and you just hoped that they were not hurting him.

"Why won't he call..please call" you mumbled in frustration and then it hit you, he didn't have your number, he never needed it. "Ohh God" you were starting to freak out but then you remembered that they could easily get your information if they actually wanted to, they haven't even tried to contact you to ask anything about him and that bothered you, he lived with you for more than two months. Weren't they just a tad bit curious?

"Stop glaring at me reindeer games, this is for your own good"

Loki glared at Stark again for what felt like the umpteenth time in just a matter of an hour. It has been three days since he had been locked up here in this tower. He desperately wanted to communicate with you but they weren't allowing him, apparently there was a legal case against him by the state of New York and he wasn't allowed to do anything, they did give him a lawyer though.

He was grilled by the Avengers for hours when they got him there and they tried to pipe the information out of him so he just told them everything he knew, right from the the moment he fell off the bifrost, he told them how he was rescued by the men of the mad Titan Thanos and how they tortured him for a year before they sent him to do his bidding. The shock on their faces was worth sharing the embarrassing ordeal he had suffered through.

A press conference was to be held three days later where Nick Fury would introduce him as the newest Avenger, all of this felt like a joke to him but one of the conditions he had imposed was that he'd be able to communicate with you and they had promised him that after the press conference he would be free to make one phone call, he felt like a prisoner still but he was happy that they weren't taking him back to Asgard. He didn't want to be anywhere he couldn't get in touch with you.

He just hoped you weren't feeling hurt or betrayed by him, he didn't want to abandon you or make you feel how other people had done before. He missed you every second of his life, at night he couldn't sleep because the nightmares kept him up, he would always wake up with teary eyes and it was only the thought of your comforting embrace that would lull him back to sleep. He missed your warm body next to his cold one. He yearned for you with all his heart and he hoped you were missing him as much as he did.

"Thanks a ton for telling me about that Minnesota gal, my publicist is very impressed by the story" Tony said to Thor and that perplexed him, why was this publicist person impressed?

"Why?"

"A tortured escaped fugitive running from the world ends up in a random girl's apartment and she agrees to hide him? That's a movie, a blockbuster movie" Tony explained.

"And what it is that you're planning to do with the story, are you going to call her here?" Thor was a bit taken by your intimidating personality but he knew Loki adored you and that was enough of a reason for him to care about you, even if just a little.

"You'll see at the press conference" Tony winked at him before walking away.

You were in the gym when you saw the news. They were talking about Loki and Thanos and everything he had told you, also the things he hadn't told you yet. He was tortured for a year, that's why he had those nightmares, your heart clenched for him and all you wanted to do was comfort him and give him plenty of forehead kisses but he wasn't there with you anymore.

"Oh my god is that for real? I think they're making it up to make us feel bad about him" Lyla commented so you rolled your eyes.

"He's superrr hot though" Stacy spoke

Well, that you agreed with.

Apparently there will be a public press conference that will be broadcasted live tomorrow. You felt a surge of relief because at least they weren't trying to hurt him but then you felt angry, why hadn't he called you then? Did he not miss you?

You went home and cried again, of course you got so attached so quickly to a man who wasn't attainable. It wasn't the first time you had done that but at least you weren't in love with those guys.

"He's going to fall in love with someone else" you mumbled as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

Of Course, that's exactly was going to happen, the first guy you liked was happily married now, the next one found his girlfriend while he was with you, the last ex of yours also found a girlfriend right after he broke up with you even though he claimed that he couldn't get lucky with girls and you were the ultimate dream come true for him and there would never be another you. You were like a blessing for these guys because you entered their lives and bam they were meeting the love of their lives left, right and center.

Maybe you were the problem here. Maybe you didn't deserve to keep men in your life. If those midgardian men were able to find someone so quickly then you didn't expect a god like him to wait around for you. He was probably getting himself sandwiched between the models that Tony Stark hung around with, that Ironman was a problematic guy, you didn't have to dig too deep to figure that out.

Thankfully you didn't have to work the next day so you made a cup of tea and sat down on the sofa to watch the press conference. You just wanted to see him even though you knew it would only hurt you further. You just wanted to see if he was ok.

"Brother, do not say anything you're not supposed to say" Thor told him so Loki rolled his eyes. He saw Anthony walking towards him with a tall blonde female by his side and it confused him.

"Loki ..meet Melisaa, you can call her Mel for short, is that correct?" Tony looked at Melissa and she smiled as she kissed his cheek then she turned her attention towards Loki.

"Well I think we need to have one conversation at least before the conference" She grabbed his hand and he was so confused, so was Thor, she took him away with her and Thor glared at Tony

"What is this? Is this some sort of bribe?" He questioned Tony.

"No it's for his public image, you see people don't trust him. Obviously. They need to trust him and whats the better way to reel them in than a human girl dating him"

"Dating? Are you out of your mind? He fancies lady y/n..from Minesotta"

"Yeah, my publicist looked her up. You see, she ain't it" Tony gave him a look of disgust as if you were beneath these people, he didn't think of you like that, he just found you annoying "He needs someone attractive, someone more presentable. Trust me a taste of Melissa and he won't even remember this lady of yours" Before Thor can speak further into this matter Tony walked away from him.

Loki didn't know why Melisaa was talking to him about you, she kept asking him questions about the things that happened the day he had invaded your apartment, however he was more than happy to talk about you with someone, he missed you alot, especially in this moment, he had to face all these people and all these strangers scared him a little. All he wanted to do was hold your hand, if you were here he'd just press his head on your chest and just have you comfort him the way you used to do.

He remembered that day he met you for the first time, you both were complete strangers but he had never felt so taken by a stranger before. You made him feel at home, something he didn't have anymore.

"Loki let's go" His lawyer told him so he nodded and Melissa hooked her arms with him to take him with her, the gesture confused him even more. Why was she there with him?

The conference went okay, he was able to apologize and speak his truth, he knew people of midgard won't forgive him so easily, there were also things he needed to discuss with these Avengers. Two Tony Starks and two Captains, why nobody was concerned about that? Why weren't they concerned about Thanos?"

You watched him on the tv and it made you cry furiously on that ugly sofa, he was so pretty and so soft in that dark blue suit he had worn, you couldn't even believe that you were blessed enough to have that godly man in your arms every night like that. You noticed the modelesque looking woman beside him and it made you worry. Did he find someone already or was it just for appearance purposes?

"Loki, hi this is Patricia from times now, you had disappeared for two months with something as valuable as the tesseract, where were you hiding all this time?" He was going to answer but a woman who introduced herself as Dalia came forward instead, whatever you heard next only made you want to rip your hair out. You flipped the channel but it was everywhere, the news had spread like a wildfire. You stopped pressing the button of the remote on some Entertainment channel and the more you heard about the situation, the angrier it made you feel.

"They say love can find you in the strangest of places and the new Avenger aka Loki the Asgardian god can probably relate. From last two months we were wondering where the certain god had disappeared to, shockingly enough, the tesseract, the powerful bundle of energy teleported him to an apartment in New York City which belonged to a local model named Malissa McKay, we got in touch with Malissa herself to get her reaction and it's adorable how their relationship developed in the time period"

You saw the model Malissa and she revealed how she threw a knife at him as she was in the kitchen looking for her salad when he came out of nowhere and how he told her that she didn't need that stuff because she was perfect the way she was. Your eyes teared up more and more as she continued to talk about him.

How dare he do that to you? How dare he agreed to replace you as if you meant nothing to him?

How dare he broke your heart like that when he knew what he meant to you?

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

Ooppps

Tag list (if you want to be tagged or removed let me know.. also I’m not able to tag some of you, please check your settings)

@annoyingsweetsstranger @mcufan72

@nixymarvelkins @stupidthoughtsinwriting @fictive-sl0th @huntress-artemiss @eleniblue @violethaze @anukulee @ladymischief11 @12-pm-510 @wolfsmom1 @whylokiissocute @hyperlokilover @vickie5446 @pics-and-fanfics @daddylokisqueen @tallseaweed @olivertwistrabbit @blog-the-lilly @prettylittlepluviophile @flashhxn-lights @vanilla-daydreaming @somewiseguy @yaaamadaa-blog @dragonmurray @nyxxharmonia @elthreetimes @gruftiela @thenotoriouserg @optimisticyouthdefender @mcuhplover @greep215 @yallgotkik

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#loki x female reader #loki #loki x reader fluff #loki x reader angst #loki x reader #loki x reader insert #loki x reader fic #loki x you #post avengers loki #canon divergent au

[forjongseong]

dive // jay (ENHYPEN)

pairing: secretary!jay x CEO!fem!reader (minisode part 11 of the series)

genre: office!au, smut (minors dni) // warning: older reader; Jay calls reader “Boss”; oral sex (f. receiving, obviously) // wc: ~2.5k oops

previous chapters:

part 1 - carmesí part 2 - mi reina part 3 - millones part 3.5 - hasta los dientes part 4 - vente conmigo part 5 - tusa part 5.5 - apaga y vámonos part 6 - versos de placer minisode part 1 - cuando nadie ve part 6.5 - yo te quiero más minisode part 2 - la niña de mis ojos part 7 - aeropuerto minisode part 3 - falling autumn minisode part 4 - night night part 8 - ambulancia minisode part 5 - subtítulos part 9 - al caer la noche minisode part 6 - after last night part 9.5 - the way you look tonight part 10 - mon soleil minisode part 7 - daylight minisode part 8 - subside minisode part 9 - your princess, my queen part 11 - qué bonito part 11.5 - enchule minisode part 10 - meet cute

next chapters:

click here for the masterlist

summary: you've been sleeping with your dearest secretary for a while and you're dying to know how it feels when he goes down on you.

author’s notes: here's the second treat of the week--minisode part 11!!!

I know, I know. I just released minisode part 10 yesterday but that's the best thing about owning a blog and writing your own series--you can post whatever you want, whenever you want!

to be honest, I had a different minisode prepared that was sfw and takes place way before yn and Jay started their thing, but I was chilling and putting Spotify on autoplay and it played this song:

go google the lyrics... maybe then you'll understand why I felt compelled to write this minisode.

taglist: @thots4hee @jayked @end-hyphen @nyanggk @yoursjaeyun @maggstar @bucketofhiros @dimplejaehyuncutie @excusememissiloveyou @shinkenprincess-oh @mochimchimo @jongseonglogy

(send an ask if you want to be added or removed)

Staying at a luxurious hotel over the weekend was one of the very few indulgences that you would let yourself have. Normally, you would never splurge on a suite for just two nights, especially when the hotel is not out of town. Fortunately, this time your suite was a complementary gesture from the event that hired you as one of the keynote speakers.

Unfortunately, though, since the event was downtown and you did not have to travel, you handled everything alone. You could not ask your staff to accompany you to do something that was not part of their job, and not when the task did not concern your company either. You even sent Mr. Lee home early the day before, claiming that you could just take the bus or ride the subway to the hotel.

The first day of the event ended right on time, and you were invited to the gala dinner in the main ballroom. You attended, ate just enough to keep your stomach satisfied, and then you excused yourself to go back to your suite. You wanted to take advantage of the huge bathtub and treat yourself to a nice hot bath, thinking that you deserved it after all the talking and walking around in heels.

Maybe because it was in your nature to do things fast, your pampering session ended quickly. Your hair was half dry, and you were already lounging on the loveseat, playing a series you already finished on Netflix. You just needed the background noise, you thought, as you scrolled through your phone. It was a Saturday night, so most of the people you followed on Instagram were posting stories of their night out.

You wondered what Jay was doing at the moment.

Your thumb stopped scrolling and you eyed the clock in the corner of your screen. It was almost eight, yet you feel bored, but it was too late to get ready to go out. Where were you going to go anyway? Taehyung’s jazz club would be way too crowded, and it’s not like any of your close friends were within reach—your two best friends lived in other countries, and it wasn’t the scheduled night for your monthly video calls.

You mindlessly opened your phone’s gallery and found pictures of documents and a couple of videos from the meetings that were held the past week. You clicked on one that showed Jay giving a short presentation, it was on the day that you were not feeling your best, so he stepped up and filled in for you. You focused on the way he was gesturing with his hands—and the way his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His hair was slicked back, and his jaw clenched whenever he was emphasizing a word. You then looked at the way he repeatedly licked his lips, and you noticed yourself breathing a little heavier.

Great, you thought. A little pathetic, actually, that you were sitting alone in a hotel, thirsting over your secretary whom you started sleeping with since, what, a couple of weeks ago? None of you were keeping count. This behavior of yours was a little uncalled for, and you got suspicious of yourself that you opened the app that tracked your period.

And of course, you found out that you were ovulating.

Usually, you would always take the more practical path. In this case, you could easily watch videos, or look at pictures of Jay and imagine him touching you as you touch yourself.

But why would you do that when he was literally just one call away?

“Hello?” You heard his voice as he picked up your call. “Is this an emergency? I didn’t get a text from you.”

You heard him entering a room and closing the door behind him.

“Boss?” He called for you after not hearing a reply. “Everything good?”

“I need you to come over,” you replied.

There was a brief pause before Jay answered.

“Alright,” he said as he took a deep breath. “On my way.”

“Not to my place,” you hurriedly added. “The hotel. You know my schedule.”

“In that case,” Jay said, seemingly shoving something into his pants and opening the door again, “I’ll be there in ten.”

You frowned but Jay ended the call before you could even say something back. You decided to retreat to the bedroom and check your reflection in the mirror. Your black silk camisole was tucked into your beige cotton shorts, and you still had your hair down after the bath you had. You then remembered that you had not put on any fragrance yet, so you rummaged through your makeup pouch and spritzed on the first fragrance you could get your hands on.

The bell rang and your heart almost dropped to your feet. You did not think ten minutes would go by so fast. You grabbed the satin robe from the bathroom and quickly wrapped it around your body as you made your way to the front door. When you opened it, Jay stood in front of you with a confused look on his face.

He was wearing rimless glasses, which you doubt were a fashion statement, and underneath his denim jacket, he was wearing a graphic tee of some sort of logo you had never seen before. It seemed like he was going for a comfortable look, judging from the chinos he had on in place of jeans. The Converse shoes also made him look like a regular college student going for a fun night out in town.

“I was in the area,” Jay explained without waiting for you to ask him. “Which is why I could come fast but also unprepared. Did you need your iPad?”

“Just come inside,” you said softly, holding the door wide open for him. He hesitated before taking a few steps in. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Jay frowned, but at the same time, he started looking around and admiring the suite. “This is a nice view,” he stated, gazing outside the window. “So, what do you need me for?”

“You’re really going to make me say it?” You asked back, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

Jay took off his denim jacket and set it on a lounge chair. If he had to be honest, he actually sprinted here, determined to reach you as fast as possible even though he wasn’t quite confident if the reason he thought you called him was the actual reason you had.

At the sight of his arms, you breathed out dramatically, and it just made Jay even more confused.

“I just didn’t want to be alone,” you confessed, taking your robe off and throwing it to the same spot where Jay had placed his jacket.

You boldly took the couple of steps that you needed to reach him, and when you did, you carefully took his glasses off before circling an arm around his neck, making him instinctively pull you in by your waist.

“I wanted company,” you continued, placing his glasses carefully on the table nearby. “Your company.”

Hearing your confession, you could clearly see the way Jay’s lips curled up into a smirk.

“I canceled plans with my friends to be here,” Jay spoke in a whisper, gradually leaning in towards you.

Your eyes fell to his lips. “Why would you do that?” You asked back, also in a whisper.

“Because,” Jay said, hanging his sentence so he could graze his lips against yours.

“Don’t say because I’m your boss,” you spoke, purposefully against his lips.

Jay chuckled softly, and all you wanted to do for the rest of the night was to breathe the air that he exhaled.

“Because I think I’ll like it better here,” he said before sealing your lips with a deep kiss. You had to fight back a moan to not give him the satisfaction, but you still reciprocated his kiss.

“You think?” You said as you pulled back. “You’re not sure?”

Jay squeezed your waist, turning your legs to jelly. The moan you tried hard to stifle eventually found its way out of your lips when you felt his mouth latch on to your neck. You began caressing the back of his neck, squirming as he was determined to leave marks on your skin.

“Jay,” you breathed. “Fuck.”

“Hmm,” he hummed before pulling back to look at you. “Do you want me to continue?”

You cupped his face before smashing your lips onto his, making him take a step back to keep his balance. After that, you took his hand and dragged him to the bedroom. You sat on the edge of the bed and pulled him in by his neck, and after a short fight, he finally threw his body on yours, kissing you fervently as his hands tugged your shorts down in a rush.

When you felt his fingers trace your thighs, you felt the heat rush up to your cheeks. Your lips were still pressed on his, and his tongue was still tangled with yours, yet you were desperate to feel both elsewhere. Jay’s hand managed to slip in between your legs and your body jerked the moment he palmed your clothed core.

“Jay,” you called as both your hands grabbed his shoulders.

He answered you with a look in his eyes, demanding you continue what you wanted to say.

“I want to see what your head game is like.”

You weren’t expecting Jay to laugh, resting his head in the crook of your neck as his shoulders moved up and down.

“Ask and you shall receive,” Jay said after containing himself. “You really called me over so I could go down on you?”

“Okay, can you stop being so patronizing?” You moved your hand over to his chest, pushing him away.

“Whoa, whoa.”

Jay propped himself up with his elbow as he took your hand and brought it up to his lips.

“I’m sorry if it came off that way,” Jay spoke with his lips against the back of your hand. “I will gladly show you my head game.”

The way he emphasized the last phrase made you roll your eyes. Jay chuckled lightly, kissing your cheek as you looked away from him.

You relaxed once he started peppering kisses down your jaw and to your neck. At the same time, his fingers were skillfully pulling the straps of your top down, revealing your breasts, and perfectly matching the timing of his lips. He kissed your nipple softly before circling his tongue around it and sucking it gently, only to release it with a pop.

“Close your eyes,” Jay said. You were in no position to disobey him.

He continued kissing you while pulling your camisole down, bunching it up around your waist. He planted a harder kiss to the right of your waist before pulling your panties along with the top down to your feet. You kicked it away way too enthusiastically, and Jay merely smirked at the way you were behaving.

Your eyes were still closed, but you could sense that he was tugging his shirt off, and it was proven right when you felt him settle between your legs, placing both of your thighs on top of his now bare shoulders. He kissed the inside of your thigh and you flinched, and you could feel the way your arousal dripped out of you.

“God,” Jay muttered, more to himself. “You’re gorgeous.”

He bumped the tip of his nose and you whimpered at the delicious contact. Once he placed his mouth on your cunt you moaned, feeling an overwhelming mixture of pleasure and contentment. At first, he was just kissing your folds, making loud sloppy sounds on purpose, and when you began to moan louder, he decided it would be nice to let you feel the warmth of his tongue.

“Fuck,” you sighed, jerking your hips. You could hear and feel Jay chuckle against your core, lapping up your arousal and strengthening the grip he had around your thighs.

His tongue made steady strokes against your folds and your legs were already shaking from the pleasure. You couldn’t stop thrusting your hips and grasping the sheets under you, and Jay literally had to push you back down.

“Relax,” he said as he detached his lips. He looked up at you and you looked back at him through your lashes. “Stay down.”

“Fuck you,” you replied weakly. Jay laughed and placed his lips between your legs again, making you feel the vibration of his voice against your cunt.

You began jerking your hips up again and Jay figured that he needed a new way to keep you steady. He noticed how hard you were grabbing the sheets, so very slowly, he pulled your fingers apart before placing them on his head.

“Just grab here,” Jay spoke against your folds. “I don’t mind.”

You sighed once you feel his tongue graze your clit. After placing one hand behind his head, you realized it wasn’t enough, so after a while you rested both your hands on his luscious hair, pulling only when it became unbearable.

Soon after, your grasp on his hair tightened and you became silent. Jay’s eyes flickered to your face, and he tried his best to keep his pace.

“Are you close?” He asked. You replied by nodding frantically.

Jay continued to eat you out, keeping the same pressure and pace no matter how hard you squirmed or how harshly you were pulling on his hair. He let you grind your hips into his face, careful not to let his teeth graze you, and when you finally reached your high, he groaned against your cunt, almost matching the moans that you let out.

Jay waited for you to catch your breath, gradually lowering your hips down and gently stroking your thigh to comfort you. You were breathing with your mouth open, and only when you came back down from your high you realized how dry your throat had become. You licked your lips and coughed a little, and Jay winced at the sound that you made.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his hand giving you a gentle squeeze on your hips.

You nodded slowly as you opened your eyes. When your gaze met his, his lips formed into a smile. Not a smirk, a genuine smile.

“So, what do we think of my head game?”

“Oh my God.”

At the sound of your groan, Jay laughed softly, crawling up to level with your eyes. You hesitated when he leaned in to kiss you, but he did so in such a gentle way that you couldn’t help but whimper into his mouth.

“Do I taste okay?” You asked, your eyes glowing in pure curiosity.

“You,” Jay replied, kissing your cheek. “Taste,” he kissed your jaw. “Divine,” he whispered, kissing your neck.

You closed your eyes and pulled him into an embrace, sighing in relief as you felt his skin come in contact with yours.

“There’s gonna be a round two, right?” Jay murmured against your neck.

You smiled, almost snorting from the bold question. “Only if you stay with me throughout the weekend.”

“Deal,” Jay replied, not missing a beat.

-END-

© forjongseong 2023, all rights reserved

read the next part: tus gafitas

#writtenbynana #fic: dive #enhypen #jay #enhypen jay #jay enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen jay smut #jay enhypen smut #jay smut #enhypen hard hours #jay hard hours #jongseong hard hours #jongseong #park jongseong #jongseong park #jongseong smut #enhypen x reader #jay x reader #nana secretary!jay agenda #Spotify

[baronessblixen]

Twenty questions for fanfic writers

Tagged by the amazing @frogsmulder. Thank you!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

417 🤯

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

774,561 - I wanna get to a million now, wow

3. What fandoms do you write for?

The X-Files, Frasier. At least on AO3. I have way more fandoms on ff.net (where I used to post).

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Prompts & Drabbles

Fictober 2020

Fowl Play

Love is Not Blind

Some Things You Just Can't Fake

5. Do you respond to comments?

For a while I did and then I forgot again and I'm always afraid I will reply to someone but oversee someone else. In theory I want to respond to all of them! I just got two amazing ones in the last two days. So thoughtful and so plain kind. I definitely need to reply to these people.

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

I wrote one where Mulder dies (of old age, though) but I'm not even sure it's on AO3.

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

All of them have a happy ending! I don't think I have a story without a happy ending.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I have. Mostly in the distant past, but I think some more recent hate too. If I remember correctly, it wasn't directed at a fic in particular but rather at me as a writer in general.

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

I have written a few smut stories. I know it's a popular genre, but I gotta be honest and admit that it's just not my favorite. Neither writing nor reading it. I know that's a very unpopular opinion.

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

Again, not on tumblr, but I think I wrote a Frasier/Hot in Cleveland crossover once.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Hmmm. I think maybe one?

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

I have! I co-wrote Eden with a bunch of others! I mean we each wrote chapters but that still counts, right? It was a lot of fun and I'd love to do it again.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Mulder and Scully

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

My Five Minutes Series. I think about it so often but I like the chapters I have written a lot and I'm afraid to screw it up by writing more.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I'm decent at writing dialogue.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Everything. I struggle with describing an environment or surroundings. I gotta admit I sometimes even skip reading those parts when other people write them. I don't see those things in my head.

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

Technically I always write dialogue in another language since English isn't my native language. I've written a few German fanfics and that was a lot of fun. Might do it again.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

It was either Friends or X-Files. Or if we count stories I only wrote for myself then it's Scarecrow and Mrs. King.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Can't choose between my babies!

Tagging @xxsksxxx @randomfoggytiger @agent-troi @numinousmysteries @oohnotvery @atths--twice (feel free to ignore if you don't wanna do it!)

#my fic #oof this took a moment #i miss writing!

[deception-united]

The WIP Questionnaire

Thanks to @modernwritercraft for tagging me! Filling this out for my current WIP, cowriting with @leisureflame.

1. What was the first part of your WIP that you created?

The plot and worldbuilding drastically evolved in leaps and bounds quite a few times. The first part of the first version of this WIP that we wrote was an excerpt from somewhere near the end—but for the current version, we started with the initial meeting of the MC and the future love interest.

2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

Runaway by AURORA—the lyrics about escape and freedom fit well with the theme.

3. Who are your favourite characters you've made? Why?

Blad. He's a bald black chicken and the MC's brother's adopted son. He is majestic. You wish you were him.

Another favourite is Finneas, the MC's love interest. He's tall and blond and a loser, and we love him.

4. What other pieces of media do you think would share a fan base for your story?

Fans of novels similar to Red Queen, or really any other dystopian novel, would likely (hopefully) enjoy it.

5. What has been your biggest struggle with your WIP?

The chapter outline. We've been stuck on it for the longest time—we know a number of plot points, but really fleshing it out and figuring out every little detail has been challenging.

6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

Yes. Blad.

7. How do your characters get around? (e.g., trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.)

We haven't put too much thought into this just yet, but seeing as the novel is dystopian and set in the future, the methods of transport are likely futuristic as well. I'll update once we figure that out.

8. What part of your WIP are you working on rn?

Like I said, the chapter outline. We're struggling.

Aside from that, there are a couple characters we have to finish developing, and a few others whose exact role we've yet to ascertain.

9. What aspects (tropes, maybe?) of your WIP do you think will draw people in?

Betrayal, opposites attract, slow burn romance, reluctant acquaintances to friends to ALMOST LOVERS to enemies, grumpy x sunshine, lovers in denial, love/hate.

10. What are your hopes for your WIP?

Getting it published. And assembling a fandom. Every writer's dream, isn't it?

Tagging @paranoia-art, @replayjay, @writingwithfolklore, and @celestialwrites. (Accidentally posted this once before I finished editing; ignore previous mention)

#writeblr #writing #wip questionnaire #wip ask game #writer games #tag game #creative writing

[rosieblogstuff]

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

44 😲 in my main AO3 account. 2 others in my older account = 46!

I didn't realize I had that many things!

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

270,883

3. What fandoms do you write for?

All 44 of those works in my main AO3 are MacGyver 2016. One is a crossover with The Rookie. The other two at Star Trek TOS and Star Wars fics.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Table + Flashlight + IEDs

Mac + (Wilderness + Training + Survival) + Jack

Lost Causes

Lake + Stick + Fever

4 Times the LAPD Didn’t Pull Jack Over + 1 Time They Did 

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

I try to! I often respond to a chapter's comments when I post the next chapter of a longfic. And sometimes I just space on it and respond a year later when I notice I failed to respond.

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

Oh definitely my X-ray + Penny flashfic, Bad Penny. Most of the comments are variations on HOW DARE YOU!!!

There are a couple other flashfics with pretty ambiguous endings, too.

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

That's a hard one. Most of my fics have a happy or at least comforty ending. Maybe... uhh.... Electricity + Combustion ? which I literally labeled "whump with a fluffy ending". I also have two Jack Lives fics so that's always a happy situation at the end...

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I haven't. A few weird comments but I mostly scratch my head and ignore them. Anybody who hates on my fics will be getting a very long and nasty reply, followed by their comment being deleted.

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

Nope, no smutty fanfics here. I did have a romance I posted for another fandom awhile back (and never finished), and I've written fade-to-black stuff in my orig fic novels.

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

Just one! My Macgyver 2016+The Rookie cops-vs-spies crossover, in which some LAPD officers keep coming across a black GTO involved in shenangains around LA: 4 Times the LAPD Didn’t Pull Jack Over + 1 Time They Did

It's probably the funniest thing I've ever written, and the ending is one of my very favorites. Also possibly the only gen fic ever posted in The Rookie fandom, although I don't look over there much.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yes. Somebody stole all my completed fics from FF.net last year. There was a big Tumblr post about some site full of stolen fics, and sure enough, there mine were. I asked to have them remove, got not reply. I haven't posted anything to FF.net since then.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I'm aware of.

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

Yes, but not for a long time. I used to frequently co-write fics in my first fandom.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

I'm going to go with Washington State Ferry M/V Wenatchee. Who doesn't love a good ferry boat? It's an irconic style, fun if you're walking on, handy if you need to drive on, saves you hours of driving around Puget Sound by land. Also just a very nice-looking ship.

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

Ugh, wow. I have a couple dozen things I kinda like but might never finish. My favorite, and least likely because I've made the least progress on it, is a MacGyver fic about Patti having plotted out her revenge better, and tring to fuck over the team by having listed Jack as her replacement... which of course gives him access to high-level secrets like Oversight's identity. Much drama ensues.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Ramping a story up. Characters. Make a story fully story-shaped.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Endings. 😫

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

Hmmm I don't think I've ever needed to. Like most things in writing, I'm not against it in theory, but it can be done well or badly.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Anne McCaffrey's Pern, back in the paper fanzine days. Prior to joining AO3 in like 2019, I had 0 fanfics posted on the internet but a few in zines listed on Ebay. 😂

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

This is IMPOSSIBLE to answer. I could answer it differently every day for the next couple weeks. Anything I already mentions plus a couple more!

#ask games #asks answered #fanfiction #macgyver 2016

[amidnight--dreary]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks so much for the tag @zsparz !!!💖

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

166!

2. What’s your total ao3 word count?

2.013.111. I write when I‘m stressed, can you tell?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly the MCU. Frostiron my beloved 💕 I recently posted a Huskerdust fic, though, and a couple years ago I posted some Good Omens stuff! I have another Good Omens wip brewing, but I haven‘t worked on it in a while.

4. Top five fics by kudos

First one up would be Your Call, a multi-chaptered ABO Frostiron thing that‘s sadly unfinished because I‘m not happy with where it was going somehow. Then Corners of Reality, my baby, Yes or No, Dereliktion and last but not least Vita Nova!

5. Do you respond to comments?

God I try. I’m so bad at it though. On long fics I always answer comments on the last chapter when I post the new one, but I keep forgetting to reply to comments on older chapters or oneshots😭 They all mean the world to me though.

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

Ohh I wrote a few angsty oneshots but it‘s been a while. Maybe Here, that‘s the most recent one. Of the older ones I remember all my light most clearly. Tony is dead or dying in both of these lol, poor Loki.

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I like to think the happiest endings in stories are ones you had to fight for a little bit, so maybe Dereliktion. That was a long ride filled with angst and messed up relationships lol. I think Haywire (my first and so far only Sentinel/Guide fic, I love that trope a lot akfj) also has a pretty fluffy ending, and I have some oneshots that are pretty much all fluff!!

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Occasionally? Just the other day I got another anon ask on here complaining about my recent stories. Makes me extra thankful for everyone who takes the time to tell me they enjoy my stuff!!💖

9. Do you write smut?

I do! Pretty much all the time lol. I love writing Dom/sub relationships!

10. Craziest crossover?

I don‘t think I‘ve ever written one before?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yesss. I‘m not sure if they just didn’t know any better though, they deleted the copied parts as soon as I told them.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes!! I‘m always so happy when that happens!!

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

Also yes. One year I did a whole Frostiron Advent calendar with @rabentochter (do you remember this????? How did we have the time??????? Insane) and we wrote a few more collabs beyond that.

14. All time favorite ship?

Frostiron!!!!!!!!!!!! I love my sassy messed up geniuses lol

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

Uhhh I‘ve got a few. I‘d like to finish/rewrite Your Call. Once I also had the cracky fever dream of Loki doing random standup comedy shows in New York because he‘d KILL that. Can you imagine the sarcasm. The gallow‘s humor. Anyway I started that and then realized I Cannot Write Standup Routines at all. So there‘s that.

16. What are your writing strengths?

What I like to write the most is character and relationship development, so hopefully I‘m decent at that? Also dialogue, I hope, but that kinda comes and goes depending on the conversation.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I kinda suck thinking of longish plot that goes beyond “will they kiss?? Will they FUCK???” so I’ve been trying to practice that. Also scenes with lots of action😭

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I like it. I’ve been wanting to write a fic where Tony can properly show off his language skills but I don’t know enough languages to pull that off lol

19. First fandom you wrote in?

The VERY first was Dracula, back when I was 13 or so. I had a big thing for van Helsing back then. My first fandom on ao3 was Once Upon a Time!!

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Ooohhh. That would be Corners of Reality, because I worked on it for years before I even started posting it and I love how it turned out. It’s a slow burn time travel enemies to friends to almost lovers to enemies to friends to lovers to enemies to allies to lovers fic. I had SO much fun writing it I still think about it all the time😭😭

I’m just gonna tag some writers I know are on here: @endlessstairway @xottan @izhunny @arabesqueangel @bouncydragon no pressure though!! And if you see this and you’re a writer please consider yourself tagged!!💖

#ask game #frostiron #fic rec

[bourbon-ontherocks]

20 questions for writers

I was tagged by @pia-writes-things (ty!!! ❤️)

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

46!

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

703,271. Which is, um, a lot.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Good Girls (formerly), HPI (formerly), and l'Art du Crime. There's also a random bit for les Combattantes, and one GG fic has a shared universe with Graceland. I'm very mono-fandom lol.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Take A Dip

It's All Coming Back To Me

It Hurts When I See You Struggle

Love And War

We're Living In A Powder Keg And Giving Off Sparks

Unsurprisingly, these are all GG fics, although I don't think my kudos ranking is accurate because most of these were impacted by the great kudos-bombing gate from 2020 so it's hard to tell what's actually my most kudo-ed fic.

5. Do you respond to comments?

Absolutely. My secret goal is to keep the conversation going back and forth for the longest possible time because I love the opportunity for a good ramble about my writing 😈

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

I wanna say Ad vitam æternam (L'art du crime)? I mean, it's literally an MCD fic, so, not that merry... Also if I remember correctly, Always lost in the sea (HPI) doesn't end on a very hopeful note either.

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

I don't know? All of them? None? I generally tend to go for happy open endings with that extra bit of bittersweet so I really couldn't tell. But hey, maybe the ending to that thing I'm currently writing actually is the happiest of it all, because oh boy, things do get cheesy at some point 🥺

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No at all! Unless you count that one person who commented on several chapters of whichever long GG fic I wrote just to point blank hate on Beth character lol

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

Of course I do (in English only), I like my porn toxic and desperate and angsty with just the right amount of power play and mutual hatred. Basically, I write hatefuck 😂

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

Not really, no... I've tried a couple of times, but I think I'm better at/more interested in mimicking existing interactions than inventing a dynamic between characters who never met canonically (and also, boy the kind of SETUP you need to justify some characters crossing paths... it's just too much work). I'm more of a cameo/easter egg kind of writer, so once in a while I'll allow a character from another fandom to pop up in a fic and say hi, but it's really a blink-and-you'll-miss-it kind of encounter.

I guess my craziest attempt would be that Crazy Ex-Girlfriend / Good Girls crossover that I never finished though, cause like, super different moods?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of but I don't really attempt to know

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! By myself lol. I once posted a fic in two languages before acknowledging it was a hell of an additional work 😭

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

Kinda? We never finished nor even posted it but at some point we shared a quite unhinged co-writing story with @whiskeyjack and @00gangfriend00 and it was a lot of fun 🥰

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

You... you guys have that? You don't just live by your Ship of the Moment just to instantly forget about it and hop on the Next Ship when it shows up? I'm sorry but I don't think I have one of those.

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

What a trap question!!! 😂

It's All Coming Back To Me, obviously. Look, I really really want to finish it, not even for me at this point, but for the 120-something people who subscribed to it, for the faithful readers who still leave me comments every now and then hoping for closure. I know how it ends. I have it partially written. I just don't seem to know how to write for Good Girls anymore, and getting my head back into it feels like such an insurmountable load of work, I just- I'm trying, ok?

But like, if someone's interested in helping, or even writing that ending based on my notes (and getting full and proper credits for it obvi), just let me know! I'm really open to it 🥲

16. What are your writing strengths?

Probably dialogues? I've been told many times that my dialogues feel very close to the original, and the thing is, I write about TV shows and I have a very good ear so I think I catch quite easily the actors' voices and tones and mannerisms in my head, so every time I write down a line, I play it several times in my mind with the character's voice to determine whether they would say it like that or not. Looks like it's not working so bad.

Also I *think* I'm not too bad at stream-of-consciousness inner monologues. At least it's one of my favourite things to write so there's that.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Action scenes (that includes sex lol). Filling the gaps between the important parts. Descriptions. Setting up the scene.

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

Like, featuring two different languages inside the same fic, or writing in different languages? I'm not sure I've ever really written the first one? I guess I find it a bit clunky, occasionally I've written scenes that included a character whose native language wasn't the one of the fic, and I'd give them a line or two if that's relevant to the plot (for instance, if characters are lost somewhere in another country, I can add a line/dialogue in another language for comedic effect. Or it can be a way for a character to whisper something for themselves), but the logistics are quite nightmarish, you gotta either assume your audience knows the second language, or translate the lines in the author's note, or have another character translate it in a way that doesn't sound too articifial, that's really really tedious haha

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Good Girls.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

You think I know that? Out of FOURTY-SIX??? Lol. Get out.

Tagging: @sdktrs12 @joeyjoeylee if you're around @riosnecktattoo @humanbra @hemerae-ramblings @sothischickshe @asteraceae-blue

#tagging games #writing #my fic #fanfic

[forabeatofadrum]

EL WOOWOOOOO! Thanks @nausikaaa for the tag.

My friends, I have some news! After deliberating on it for a while, I've decided to start posting Just Some Guy, aka Matty Chris D.'s story. I had actually considered it before, as a way to motivate me to work more on the story, but now that the first 4 chapters are actually finished, and I am actually making progress on chapter 5 and 6 (ssssh, don't talk about 7 and 8), I thought: "Why not?"

I've been obsessed with MCD ever since I came up with this idea and quite frankly, I want y'all to get to know him! I hope to post weekly on Wednesday, so that I also have a bit more time to hopefully finish the other chapters. And if not... well, what's another WIP, eh?

So if you're reading this, then that means chapter 1 is up. Have a (more serious) sneak peek of chapter 2:

We watch the Chosen One walk away and he does look awful and beat up. John is right. He’s my age. I can’t imagine having the weight of the world on my shoulders and being a twelve year old at the same time. The Chosen One. Simon Snow. Maybe I should stop referring to him by his title and start thinking of him by his name. We will never be friends. We pass each other in the corridor of our rooms and we know each other from classes, but that’s it. Because of that, he’s always been this elusive entity in my life. The Chosen One, the Saviour of the Magickal World, the Mage’s Heir and all that jazz. But when I see him like this, cheeks wet from the tears, shoulders hunched, I am reminded that he’s just Simon Snow.

And now, the weather: @quizasvivamos @coffeegleek @caramelcoffeeaddict @raenestee @tectonicduck @nightimedreamersworld @urban-sith @thnxforknowingme @captain-aralias @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @cerriddwenluna @bookish-bogwitch @confused-bi-queer @that-disabled-princess @special-bc-ur-part-of-it @larkral @cutestkilla ​ @wellbelesbian ​ @artsyunderstudy ​ @martsonmars ​ @facewithoutheart ​ @shrekgogurt @rockitmans @bitbybitwrites @whatevertheweather @theotherhufflepuff @shame-is-a-wasted-emotion @esilher @kurtsascot @blackberrysummerblog @nightimedreamersghost

#wip wednesday #tagged in

[breadtheft1796]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

thank you for the tag @palettesofrenaissance <3

1. How many works do you have on ao3? 91 (with 8 of those posted anonymously and 26 current hidden).

2. What's your total ao3 word count? 316,689

3. What fandoms do you write for? i currently write for marvel and good omens. previously i have written for doctor who, hannibal, harry potter, hetalia, interview with the vampire, les misérables, and the walking dead (occasionally i dip back into writing those). and some other one-off fics for other fandoms.

4. Top five fics by kudos: quips and endearments (t, 1.6k) aragorn and legolas flirt to keep morale up acts of service (t, 4k) aziraphale falls nothing but theatre (e, ongoing) bucky/zemo fake dating and time travel au behind the make-up (t, 1k) the grandmaster exposes loki's mouth scars hannibal, it's tinsel (g, <1k) hannibal/will fluffy hissy fits over xmas decs

5. Do you respond to comments? i like to and try to but i've got behind on it lately. i need to catch up.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? angst is my thing so most of my fics end angstily. maybe either: uncovered secrets (e, 5k) bucky recognises heinrich in one of zemo's family photos lithium (e, 3k) zemo's first look at the latvian apartment since his family's death

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? definitely this, it's very hopeful for the future: falling leaves and apple pulp (g, <1k) bucky and sarah go apple picking

8. Do you get hate on fics? i used to but not so much anymore. i've had a couple of hate anons on here related to fics though.

9. Do you write smut? yes, occasionally but i'm not very good at it.

10. Craziest crossover: i haven't really done many crossovers but i mix adaptions a lot.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? i had a couple stolen off deviantart and ff.net back in the day but nothing off ao3 that i'm aware of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? no but i had one of my anonymously posted fics podfic'd, so that was nice.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? i'd say so, yes, because even though it wasn't a back and forth thing some of the babes from the winterbaron discord have plotted and contributed so heavily to fics that i refuse to take full credit. also me and @palettesofrenaissance are going to be co-writing something soon so that's exciting!

14. All time favorite ship? usually i would usually say peggy/steve from mcu because i've loved them fiercely since 2011. but i'm going to say england/spain from hetalia because i'm feeling nostalgic at the moment and i always fall back into writing fic for them when i'm feeling particularly stressed or down.

15. What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? i don't often write multi-chapter fics so only have one wip currently up. it would be good to get that finished, since i'm only 1 chapter away from an epilogue.

16. What are your writing strengths? angst. character studies and introspection. oneshots. i've been told i'm good at setting the tone and atmosphere, and i keep getting comments saying i'm good at conveying emotion, which makes me insanely happy.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? worldbuilding in general. multi-chapter fics. spelling and grammar. knowing how to end fics. smut. i'm also very quick to get discouraged and abandon fics all together.

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language? i love it. other languages are often so beautiful and i like looking up commonly used phrases and contexts for how they are used. i've used other languages in most of my mcu fics.

19. First fandom you wrote in? i have hazy memories of this but i think it was twilight, where instead of going to italy to save edward, she and alice got together instead. i stand by 15 year old me's taste in ship. the first fic i posted online was for hetalia though, the twilight one stayed in a notepad.

20. Favorite fic you've written? i couldn't just pick one so: the last of fine days (m, 15k) zemo's old family home plays tricks on their minds -> my first attempt at gothic domestic/horror and i'm proud of it. migraine aura (m, 5k) aziraphale and crowley are exes stuck together at a party -> i wanted to write the most claustrophobic, overstimulating environment i could and i think i succeeded.

no pressure tagging, in case any of you felt like it: @zsparz, @milarca, @zemos-bathrobe, @fuddlewuddle, @yolkinthejump, @captainjimothycarter

#brioche notes

[monstersinthecosmos]

20 Qs for fic writers

Tagged by @jacqulinetan

1. How many works do you have on A03? 46 public, 3 private, 2 anon.

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 692, 623!

3. What fandoms do you write for? VC and Sheith with a few YOI fics thrown in. 😊

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? Star Eater, THE FRONT, Tonight the Stars Revolt!, Wayfinder, and Zero Hour!

5. Do you respond to comments? YES! I only share fics because I want comments lmfao. I want to talk to you!!! Sometimes I do like a quarterly roundup so I let them pile up and then answer them all every 3 months lol but I do try to reply to everybody!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I think for Sheith it’s C O A G V L A and for VC it’s The Lotus Eater or Gallows Bird? (The Lotus Eater and Gallows Bird have the Armand & Marius versions of the same ending bc Gallows Bird was a TLE remix LOL) Sfaíra Ti̱s Fo̱tiás also has a really bleak ending but it’s a PWP so it doesn’t hurt me as bad LOL.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? For Sheith it’s THE FRONT I think? For VC idk maybe Right Where it Belongs or In the Trials of the Heart?

8. Do you get hate on fics? I’ve gotten a lot of hate in fandom at large but never really got flagrant hate in an AO3 comment. I do occasionally get a rude unsolicited critique and I like to use that as an opportunity to write meta about why my decision was correct LOL

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I only write smut, thanks! WHAT KIND? idk I lean into BDSM but there's a few that aren't BDSM. I also write canon-compliant VC smut so it's either a vampire servicing a human or me trying to make blood drinking sound as horny as possible.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? I used to when I was a teenager on my old accounts but it doesn’t really interest me anymore outside of like maybe a cute lil homage Easter Egg or something.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? I don’t think so!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? No!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? I haven’t co-written in a long time but I used to! One of my fav fics from high school was written with my best friend where we alternated chapters and it was so much fun!  

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? Sheith and Marius/Armand and Armand/Daniel and Marius/Pandora !!!!!!!!!!!!!! Those are my fav ships to WRITE, I don’t really read a lot of VC though. I have lots of other fav ships to read.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I don’t start stuff that I won’t finish adsgjl when I was in high school my FFnet page was a DISASTER just like 60 fics, none of them finished, and so when I returned to fic writing using AO3 I promise myself not to post stuff that I wasn’t confident I’d finish. Ideally I don’t even begin sharing something until it’s finished but TTSR was an exception bc it started as a PWP and got out of hand.

16. What are your writing strengths? I get complimented the most on tension and pacing! Also on emotional meta like characters' behavior around trauma.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I really wish I was better at writing long fics. It’s been a goal of mine forever and I’ve gotten a little better but I’m not where I want to be.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Gjkaldsg I don’t think it’s necessary and often comes off as cheesy unless it serves a real purpose. I've seen it done really well before! (Clap When You Land by Elizabeth Acevedo came to mind!) And I think we’ve all seen this done badly enough in fanfic to kind of learn what not to do. I think there are times when the beauty and cadence of another language can add texture or say something that you simply can’t say in the default language, I also think it can be used to create a distance between the characters, even between the reader and the character. I used a lot of Latin in So Falls the World for example, because Marius and Pandora are reciting an ancient poem to each other, and it was important to me to leave it in Latin because I wanted to communicate their age, that they’re clinging to something archaic because it’s familiar to them, when it’s incongruous to the world around them and also the text around them. Same with the misinterpretation of silence and its disastrous consequences, where Louis is reciting a French poem. I mean do we assume that Louis and Lestat speak French to each other at home anyway? But putting the poem in the original language AT LEAST FOR ME created a sense that Louis is playing a role, that it’s something outside of himself. Basically I think media does this all the time and we are smart enough to know that the language we’re consuming might not be the language the characters are actually speaking, we all know that! So the question is, when people sprinkle random words into their stories or dialogue, I ask: What purpose did this serve? Is this how bilingual people actually talk? Is it written for bilingual readers as a shared experience or is it meant to confuse monolingual readers for effect? Is it used sparingly to add texture, is it just a fun word that you want to use? Do whatever you want but I think we need to ask ourselves these questions before writing something that’s a sloppy mess at best, and a racist caricature at worst!

19. First fandom you wrote for? Pro wrestling =P

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? Tonight the Stars Revolt! is my fav Sheith fic, it’s like my magnus opus that I do all my meta work for, everything I’ve thought deeply about was ultimately for this fic, I HAVENT UPDATED IT IN ALMOST 2 YEARS IM REALLY SORRY LIFE KINDA GOT AWAY FROM ME IT’S BEEN HECTIC but I think about it constantly, more than you know, I have 3 playlists for it that I listen to all the time, it’s just always on my mind. For VC it used to be So Falls the World but now that I wrote Gallows Bird I think it’s that, too. I can’t tell if it’s because Gallows Bird is just newer and less sloppy LOL but jkdlhakjgsd I THINK I AVOIDED WRITING MARIUS FIC FOR A LONG TIME BC I WAS INTIMIDATED BUT THE TIMES I DO WRITE HIM I HAVE SUCH A BLAST and I just love him so much!

TAGGING: @hekateinhell @apoptoses @mothmage @nothing-but-paisley @covenofthearticulate @lovevamp @bubblegum-blackwood & EVERYONE ELSE

#stuff i wrote

[love-and-monsters]

The Warlord and his Lady pt. 8

M dragonkin X F human, 13,095

This chapter was also longer than I expected, but it’s also the finale, so I guess it should be sort of long. Thank you all for following this story! The grand total ended up being just shy of 92,000 words, if you can believe it. I’m enormously grateful that so many people were willing to stick with me through this massive journey. Hopefully this ending satisfies you- I’m considering doing a final short story with these characters, but it might be a prequel instead of an epilogue- we’ll see. There might be a little pause in posting here, but I do want to get something up for Mermay, even if it’s shorter.

Content warnings: Mentions of poisoning, serious injury, and torture. 

(Ch. 1) (Ch. 2) (Ch. 3) (Ch. 4) (Ch. 5) (Ch. 6) (Ch. 7)

The room is silent. Ethan fidgets with the bottle, which is still slightly tilted, like he’s going to tip it into Rastek’s slightly-open mouth. A slow, cold wave of terror rolls through my stomach. My fingers lock around the bottle in my hand. One thought blazes through my mind, at the forefront of everything: protect the antidote.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, keeping my voice calm. I want to give him a chance to explain himself. Even though something deep inside me has already accepted what’s happening.

He swallows. His throat bobs with the movement. “It’s medicine,” he says, his voice low, like he’s trying to calm me down. “One of the healers asked me to give it to him.” His eyes dart to the bottle in my hand. He tenses subtly. “You made the antidote?”

“It’s-” Don’t tell him, my mind snarls immediately. “No. It’ll… it’s like pain medicine. It’ll help him rest. So he can pull through this.”

“Hm.” I can’t tell if he believes me. We’re at a bit of a standstill. I don’t want to approach him to administer the antidote and I can tell he’s not eager to finish poisoning Rastek while I’m standing right there. Because that’s what he’s doing. A simple servant would never be allowed to administer medicine to their warlord. So he’s snuck in. And there’s only one reason someone would sneak in.

“You should go,” I say, chancing my luck. Ethan’s jaw tightens. If he leaves, he’s never getting another chance. He knows I’m going to station guards around Rastek, with myself at the lead. If he leaves now, he can maybe get away- just run into the night and escape. But he’ll lose his chance to kill Rastek, and he knows it.

He hesitates. His gaze flicks over me. I regret not bringing anyone else with me. The calculation runs through his eyes- I’m sick and not very strong. Definitely not as strong as someone who does manual labor for a living. He can stop me and he knows it.

Scream, you idiot! My brain screams at me. I open my mouth, but Ethan lunges before I can move. There’s a pop in the air, almost like electricity, and, despite my lungs working, I can’t hear the scream anymore. I have just enough time to recognize that Ethan has used some kind of magic before his foot slams into my side.

The pain is startling. Even without the silence spell, I couldn’t make a sound- the air is completely knocked out of me. I have just enough wherewithal to curl my body around the antidote before I hit the ground. It presses against my chest, shielded and safe.

I expect Ethan to come after me while I’m stunned, but he only looks at me for a moment to make sure I’m down before turning back to Rastek. Well, I can’t fault his focus. He’s going after his target. But it does give me an opportunity. Fueled by rage and desperation, I scramble across the floor, clutch at his calf, and do the first thing I can think of to stop him: Sink my teeth into the skin of his leg.

The surprise seems to help. Ethan jerks in silent pain and twists, trying to get me off of him. He swings his other leg, trying to kick me in the head, but I’m too close to him for him to get a good angle. Blood pours into my mouth and I gag against it, but I don’t let go. Even when Ethan starts frantically stomping to try and dislodge me, the motion jolting my jaw painfully.

Finally, he reaches down and snatches my hair, hauling me away from his leg. My teeth finally slip and I dislodge, leaving rivulets of blood trailing down his calf and my chin. He hauls me up far enough that I can see his face, twisted in rage and pain. He makes no sound, but I can see his lips twitch into the words ‘fucking bitch.’ I spit blood into his face.

The anger on his face goes insensate. He wrestles me to the ground with his still-bleeding calf planted on my lower back. His hand remains tangled in my hair, yanking me back. The ground looms under me, hard and unforgiving. I can already tell what he’s going to do. He’s going to slam my face against the ground until I’m unconscious. Or worse. I struggle, but he’s solid as stone. He yanks my head back until my back is bending with the force. I scramble to plant my hands on the ground, to push back against it, but I’m too stunned to manage. The only thing I can do is brace myself for the impact.

And then Ethan jerks, his fingers loosening on my hair. Then his hand jerks free. I manage to catch myself before falling on the floor and whip around to look at him.

Ethan is scrambling at his throat. His fingertips scrabble against the smooth, green scales at his neck. The mass of scales is tightening, Ethan’s face turning a nasty shade of purplish-red as it chokes off the blood and air to his brain. It looks like a snake it strangling him. Or like a tail.

I look over. Rastek is rolled over on his side. His teeth are gritted in pain, his breath coming in heaving, pained gasps, but he’s putting all of his strength into strangling Ethan.

Just as Ethan’s heaving starts to become more labored, he pulls something out of his shirt. I get a flash of metal in the light before the tiny knife plunges into Rastek’s tail. A chunk of flesh gets carved away and Rastek gives a silent howl of pain. His tail twists free, involuntarily moving away from the knife.

Ethan doubles over, gasping. He leans against the cot as he struggles to get air in his lungs. Next to him, the bottle of dark liquid rolls a couple of inches along the floor. He’s too distracted to notice.

I seize the bottle, keeping my own antidote tucked close to my body. Ethan barely looks up in time to see me swing the bottle into his face.

The blow is only enough to stun him. The bottle isn’t heavy enough for anything stronger than that. But it’s the opportunity I need. I snag a shard of broken glass and carve a deep gash into one of his arms. The poison is soaked into his shirt and dripping down his hair and I gather as much of it as I can, pressing it into the wound. When he opens his mouth to groan in pain, I snatch a piece of cloth saturated in the poison and jam it in. I want to get as much of it into him as possible.

It’s a massive dose, more than Rastek got by a mile. The effect isn’t immediate, but I can tell he feels it. He gurgles and chokes, eyes rolling. It’s only at this point that I realize that it would have been faster to just slit his throat. But no. There’s a sort of vicious satisfaction I get from watching him succumb to the poison he was going to give my husband. It feels right.

There’s a sensation like my ears popping and the sounds of the busy tent filter back in. Ethan gurgles like a dying slug. Rastek slumps over, clearly exhausted. “Hey!” I yell, my voice slightly wavering and weak. “Hey!”

The curtain whisks open and I hear noises of horror. I don’t move. I don’t take my eyes off of Ethan until a guard is summoned and he’s hauled away. The I turn and present my antidote to the nearest healer.

“Make Rastek drink it. At least half. Then monitor his progress. If there’s no improvement in three hours, give him the rest.” I manage to get all those words out, barely even slurring them with my exhaustion. I can feel the looming wave of tiredness crashing over me. As soon as the healer nods his assent, I sink to the ground.

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. The pain, delayed by adrenaline and determination, is reasserting itself now that the danger is over. My entire body feels like someone literally put me through a wringer, or maybe like I was hit by a train. My head aches like it’s being split open. Even breathing is an effort. My body is heavy and inhaling is like shifting a heavy bag of sand. Dimly, I feel healers prodding at me, trying to get me to respond. I try to, but it’s far too much effort. They give up after a few tries and just start pouring concoctions into my mouth. I swallow most of them, mostly just out of reflex, so I don’t choke.

My conscious fades like the slow dimming of light- I can sense it getting weaker and weaker before it’s suddenly just not there anymore. I don’t even dream. My brain just shuts down.

When I wake back up, there’s the heavy sense that I’ve been asleep for a long time. My body is stiff as a rail- even bending my fingers hurts. Forget sitting upright. My neck screams in protest when I so much as turn my head. My mouth feels desert-dry, and my tongue feels swollen, and my attempts to speak, or even just yell for someone, come out as nothing more than raspy little squeaks.

I drift for a while, barely conscious, until a healer steps through the cloth barrier surrounding my cot. She grabs my wrist, fingers positioned to take my pulse, and nearly jumps out of her skin when I twitch.

“My lady?” she asks, eyes training on mine. “Can you hear me?”

It’s hard to nod, but I manage it, as well as making a squeaky-raspy noise in my throat. Her shock remains for a second longer before she slips into healer mode again. “Let’s see if we can get you sitting up.”

Even with a few more pillows shoved under me, we don’t make it to ‘sitting up’ and settle for ‘lying down at an angle.’ The healer seems unperturbed. She takes my vitals, shines a light in my eyes, pulls and massages at my joints until my eyes are watering with pain, and finally pokes some slivers of ice between my lips. The feeling of cold wetness against my tongue hurts, but it’s a good kind of hurt. The ice melts and I swallow the few droplets of water left in my mouth. It’s delicious.

“You’ve been unconscious for a while,” the healer says as she pokes more ice between my lips. I shift it in my mouth to cover all the dry spots. “Several days. Your body’s been through quite a strain.”

I still can’t speak, so I just nod. My gaze travels around the room. It’s not much to look at; just a room enclosed by plain, off-white curtains. Beyond the curtains, I can hear the sounds of the medical tent. Rastek’s not here. My stomach roils with anxiety. I didn’t give him the antidote before I collapsed. Where is he? Is he okay?

With the water, my mouth is cooperating more than before. I can’t speak full sentences of anything, but I manage to squeak out, “Rrr… Rastek?”

The healer smiles and the relief is dizzying. “He’s been up and about for a couple of days. There have been some things that he’s had to take care of himself, though I assure you that we make sure he’s resting enough. Someone has already gone to tell him you’re awake. I’m sure he’ll be here any minute.”

That’s reassuring. I sag back into the pillows and low myself to be fed more ice. I’m not exactly hungry, but I can feel the dizzy, unfocused feeling that comes with not having eaten in a long time. Moving even slightly is an effort. The only thing I can do is lie still and occasionally eat ice chips.

Just as I’m about to fall asleep, there’s the hurried thumping of footsteps and the curtains swing open. Rastek, wearing his armor and his cape, steps into the little room. The instant his eyes fall on me, he drops to a kneeling position next the top of the bed.

“You’re awake,” he says. His voice is soft to the point of reverence. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I really did want to be here, but there’s been so much going on.”

I reach up to press my hand to his cheek. His entire body sags into a sigh, eyes fluttering shut. “You’re okay,” he murmurs like he’s trying to convince both of us, or maybe like he’s trying to will it into being. “You’re okay. We’re all right.”

His face is slightly rough under my fingertips. I’ve never felt him with stubble before. Maybe draconid hair grows slower or something. That would mean that he hasn’t shaved in a while, then. But that would fit with the rest of his appearance. The longer I look at him, the more haggard he appears. His hair is drawn back, but what I can see of it is less silky and shiny than usual. His eyes are somewhat sunken, his skin is sallow, and his expression is worn. Still, there’s strength in his grip as he clutches my hand to his cheek.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, moving to fluff the pillows, straighten my blankets, any small busywork to make things more comfortable for me. “You’ve been out for quite some time. The healers said your body was just healing itself, but it’s been so long, I…” He trails off and takes a deep, uneven breath. His eyes glitter in the dim light. “I’m glad you’re awake,” he finishes, plastering a wobbly smile on his face.

“Nnn,” I moan. My inability to talk is frustrating. Even holding my hand up to his face is exhausting. He lets my arm drop back to the bed and I refocus my energy on getting my mouth and throat to work. “Mmnn… You… okay?”

It’s an incredible effort to speak and Rastek responds to my earnest question by bursting into laughter. He actually rocks a little back and forth, like the effort of his laughter is shaking him. I put my remaining energy toward glaring at him, which he doesn’t notice for several seconds. Even when he does, he only presses his lips together in an amused manner, which barely suppresses the giggles still slipping out of him.

“You’re really asking me that?” he asks. “You spend nearly a week unconscious, barely awake enough for the healers to shove medicine and food into you, kept alive mostly by magic, and the first thing you do is ask me if I’m okay? Darling. Do you have any sense in your head?”

I narrow my eyes ay him. “Poisoned,” I insist.

“Well, yes,” Rastek says, looking at least a little contrite. “But I’m better now.” He gives me a curious look. “I heard… that is, the healers said that you were the one who made the antidote.” His voice is light, and his eyes flick to the healer who is still with us, but I can hear the subtle question in his tone: How the hell did you do that?

It would take way too much energy to explain in my current state, so I just nod. Rastek looks awed. I can almost see the questions forming in his mind. But he doesn’t say anything else. He just smiles and strokes my forehead. “I knew you would,” he murmurs.

He couldn’t possibly have known I would save him. He must have known how unlikely that was. But the way he says it is so utterly confident. Like he never has a single doubt in his mind. My eyes sting, and I realize they’re trying to tear. I can’t summon up enough moisture to actually get tears out, but everything goes fuzzy at the edges for a bit.

Despite not having been awake for that long, I’m already starting to feel tired. My eyelids keep drifting shut and staying that way for longer and longer. A heavy numbness is crawling up my body from my legs.

“She’s falling asleep,” I hear Rastek say. It sounds like it’s coming down a long tunnel.

“That’s okay. She’ll be in and out for a little while. Perfectly normal,” the healer says. “Her body’s already using a lot of energy trying to heal itself.”

“Ah,” Rastek says. His voice comes closer, soft and gentle. “Then sleep well, darling. I’ll see you when you wake up.”

There’s a long period of dreamless blackness. I’m only pulled out of it on occasion by poking and prodding by healers. Even then, I don’t really come out of sleep. I just grumble until they let me lie back down and go back to sleep.

My consciousness eventually comes back to me naturally. It’s quite dim in the tent, with my curtained section only being illuminated by a small lantern. The sound is hushed too, aside from the occasional moan of pain or someone hurrying around. It must be night, or at least late in the evening.

This is the first time I register how gross I feel. Not just in a physically unwell sense, but also in a hygiene sense. I feel grimy. Sweat is plastered to my clothes, my hair feels tangled and greasy, and my mouth tastes terrible. Maybe it’s not that surprising- I don’t know how easy it is to bathe someone while they’re unconscious. But it’s not pleasant on top of the present soreness.

Something shifts at the edge of my vision and I turn my head. Rastek is curled in a wooden chair, reading some small book. He looks uncomfortably hunched, his tail curled up close to his legs. His head droops every now and then, chin tilting toward his chest. Just as his body starts to go limp, he slips sideways on the chair and startles back awake.

Just as I’m watching him go through that pattern for the third time, he turns his head a little and catches sight of my face. He straightens up, utter relief flooding his features. “Hi there.”

I shift, tentatively stretching my limbs. It hurts, but it also feels kind of good and relieving, like a massage. “Hi.”

Rastek puts the book down and scoots the chair closer to me. He still looks wan and a bit sickly, but healthier than he looked before. He strokes the back of his hand against my cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“Mostly stiff. Tired. Sore,” I say. Rastek nods.

“Not too much pain?” he asks.

“It’s not fun, but I can manage.”

Rastek sighs. “They’ve been giving you medicine for the pain every few hours. That’s probably why it’s not so bad.” His face screws up. “They said your muscles tore when you scuffled with Ethan. Add that on top of your tiredness from working so hard to make the antidote and you’re taking a long time to recover.”

“Have I been sleeping a long time?”

“Since you last woke up? About… sixteen hours, give or take. Not too terribly long.” Rastek’s thumb traces over my cheekbone. I take a deep breath and ask what’s been nudging at the back of my mind.

“Ethan. What… what happened to him?”

Darkness falls over Rastek’s face immediately. Tension tightens his jaw- I can see a muscle twitching. “We detained him. He’s alive.” The way he says ‘alive’ sounds like a curse. It sounds like, if Rastek had his way, Ethan would not currently be living.

“He’s detained?” I ask, poking for more information. Rastek doesn’t say anything for a few moments. His jaw twitches again.

“Kept under heavy guard in the camp. The thaumatist has been able to keep him unconscious, except for when we’re interrogating him. He’s been a little helpful, though not as much as I would like. He’s good at being tight-lipped, unfortunately.”

“What has he said?” I ask.

Rastek shrugs. “Nothing we couldn’t have guessed on our own, though I suppose the confirmation is useful. He’s a spy for the opposing forces, he joined as a servant to get close to me, deliberately came with us when we left the manor to go into hiding, and he then hid in plain sight and filtered information back to the enemy.” Rastek lowers his voice to a near-whisper. I have to strain to hear it. “It seems fortuitous that we didn’t tell people you lost your memory. Apparently he was under the impression that the magic had fully failed, instead of partially, which was why they didn’t attack again- they were trying to figure out what went wrong and fix it. By the time they were ready for a second go, we were on the move again.”

“But we don’t know anything else?” I ask.

“No. He’s fine with telling us specifics about himself and what he was doing on the mission. But he’s stingier with the other details. We don’t know specifically who was employing him, or why they went after you in particular.” He rubs a hand over his face. “We don’t even know what happened with the person we chased down and the poisoning. I assume they were there as backup, but we don’t know the specifics…” Rastek trails off. One of his hands curls against his side, right where the poisoned knife struck him.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” I ask in a small voice. Rastek follows my gaze to his hand and his expression shifts to a soothing smile.

“Yes. It’s tender, but it’s not too bad. You don’t need to worry about me.” He pats my head with a heavy hand. “But regardless of the information we get out of him, we are both safe. I’m pleased with that, if nothing else.”

I rest my hand on his, quiet for a few moments. Then I ask, “Rastek. Can I see him?”

I feel the surprise that rolls through his body. He straightens up, eyes wide. His hand doesn’t pull out of my grip, but it does tug. “You want to?”

“Maybe I’ll be able to get something out that you won’t,” I say. Rastek presses his lips together. I can already see the suspicion on his face, the hesitation. “What’s he going to do to me, anyway? You’ve got him secured, right?”

“Well, yes,” Rastek says. “But I don’t like tempting fate. And we don’t know how long we’re going to keep him here- eventually we’re going to have to move him either for holding in a proper prison or for execution.”

“Execution,” I repeat musingly. “That’s still on the table.”

“It’s a possibility,” Rastek says. “You seem surprised by that.”

“Only because I figured if he was going to be executed, you’d be doing it. And he wouldn’t need to go anywhere for it.” I can’t imagine Rastek being okay with sending Ethan away for a hanging or something. I’m kind of surprised he hasn’t already ripped Ethan apart.

Rastek looks both amused and pleased. “Hm. Not for lack of desire, I assure you. But spies are generally best left alive to extract as much information as possible, so he’ll probably be sent elsewhere for holding and a secondary interrogation before people actually get around to deciding if he deserves life imprisonment or, well. Life imprisonment for a much shorter period.”

“I’d still like to talk to him before he goes,” I say. “I at least want to see his face.”

Rastek’s mouth lifts in a particularly cruel smile. “Actually, I think that’s a good idea. You should see your own handiwork, I think.” He brushes his fingers affectionately over my cheek. “But only after you recover some more, all right?”

“I think that’s a fine condition,” I say right before my jaw gapes around an irrepressible yawn. “God, I’m so tired.” The dull ache all over my body is starting to get worse, and all my mind wants to do is retreat into the comforting numbness of sleep.

“You’ve been through a lot. And the medicine in you is probably making you more sleepy,” Rastek says. His thumb traces little circles on my cheekbone. I reach up and fumblingly thread my fingers through his. He practically purrs with affection, gaze going soft. “Get some more rest. We can talk again when you wake up.”

I mumble something, though it’s barely articulate. It takes another couple of moments to summon up the energy to speak, but I do it anyway. Even when it drags me further out of the gentle cocoon of sleep, I think it’s work it.

“Stay with me?” I murmur. Rastek’s expression brightens and he shuffles even closer to me. His tail comes up around the end of the bed, like he’s trying to curl his entire body around me.

“Of course. Of course. Always,” he says. I murmur in agreement and promptly fall asleep.

I wake and fall back asleep several times over the next three days. Not much of interest happens- I eat, take various medicines, talk with Rastek. One of the healers forces me out of bed while Rastek hovers nervously nearby.

“She’ll need to walk sooner or later,” the healer says. She looks like she’s trying not to laugh as Rastek wrings his hands. Not literally, but I’m expecting it any minute.

“I’m okay,” I say through gritted teeth. Walking hurts, like I’m tottering around after running a marathon rather than spending a few days in bed. The healer reaches down to touch my legs and I startle uncomfortably  when she examines my thigh. Rastek glares.

“Your legs are stiff,” she tells me, ignoring Rastek. Her ability to do so is admirable, considering his glare looks like he could melt through glass. “We’re going to do a lap around the bed, then I’m going to suggest some stretches and massages that will help loosen the muscles.”

She guides me around the bed, though she doesn’t offer much support. I’m allowed to lean on her, but she’s not going out of her way to hold me up. Rastek’s tail whips back and forth like an irritated cat’s, occasionally striking a chair with a dull thunk.

We actually manage a lap and a half before I have to collapse back into bed. “Good work,” the healer says. “Now for the stretches.”

She demonstrates a few for me. They’re all things I can do while sitting in bed, and while they’re uncomfortable, they’re not unpleasant. “As for you, Rastek, I’d like you to watch closely so you can mimic these motions. I’ll demonstrate them, then you can repeat them with me watching.”

As she says that, she starts to hike up the skirt of my hospital gown-esque dress. I freeze, uncomfortable. “It’s all right,” the healer says. “I’m just going to demonstrate for your husband, then I’ll allow him to do it. Hold on for just a few moments.”

Rastek makes eye contact with me over the healer’s head. I can see the question in his eyes- is this okay? I lower my chin in a tiny little nod.

The healer demonstrates some motions, drawing her thumbs along the sides of my thighs and around my joints. It’s uncomfortable when she gets close to my hips, but Rastek squeezes my hand, which helps me relax. Finally, the healer stands up and gestures for Rastek to take her place.

He settles where she once sat on the bed, hands hovering. “Just mimic what I did,” the healer reminds him. “As long as you’re fairly gentle, you won’t hurt her.”

Given his expression, he seems more worried about making me uncomfortable than accidentally hurting me. But he obligingly puts his hands on my legs and starts exerting some soft pressure.

His hands certainly feel different than the healer’s. They’re warmer, for one. Doctors, regardless of the universe, must be legally required to have cold hands. Rastek’s hands are slightly warm. They’re larger than the healer’s too. He probes gently at first, like he’s afraid of hurting me, but when I don’t respond, he digs in a little deeper. I groan in response and he freezes. “No, no,” I murmur, closing my eyes. “Keep going. It’s nice.”

He obliges, changing position or pressure when asked by the healer. He’s quite a bit more delicate than her, though. I’m not sure if it’s because he’s so much more aware of his strength or if he’s just worried about touching me so closely. Every time I show even the smallest amount of discomfort, Rastek pulls his hands away.

“You do actually need to get in there,” the healer says, looking faintly amused. “She won’t break.”

Rastek grimaces, but he pushes his thumbs in a little harder. The healer watches him for a few more moments, then nods her head and stands up. “All right. It seems you have the hang of it. I’ll leave you alone for now.” And she swishes out of the little room.

Rastek stares after her for a moment, then swings his gaze back toward me. His hands lift, hesitant and uncertain. “Are you comfortable with this?”

“It’s fine,” I say. “It feels kind of nice.” Rastek presses his thumb down on a knot and I let out an involuntary groan. My face feels immediately hot. “Uh. I. Did not mean to make that sound.”

“Don’t worry about it. As long as you’re comfortable.” Rastek pauses. “We used to do this on occasion, when your muscles got very stiff. Though I was always a bit anxious about accidentally hurting you.” He moves his fingers in small circles. I take a moment to steady my breathing. It keeps catching in my chest for some reason.

I close my eyes, but that makes the sensation of his hands on my legs even more intense. Tingles keep running up the length of my spine. I shiver, unable to repress it, and Rastek pauses.

“Are you cold?” he asks. I shake my head.

“It’s not really that. It’s just…” I trail off, making a noncommittal gesture with my hand. Rastek apparently catches on and his hands slide away from me.

“I think we’ve done enough, for now,” he says gently.

“I didn’t mean you had to stop,” I say, carefully pushing myself up on my elbows. Rastek waves his hand at me until I flop back into a lying-down position.

“We don’t want to overdo it,” he says. His tail twists behind him, waving and curling in slow undulations. “And it is a bit… touchy.”

“Which I said I didn’t mind,” I point out. Rastek stares at the bedsheets. “I can tell you if I’m uncomfortable, you know. I don’t need you to walk on eggshells around me.”

Rastek huffs out a heavy breath. “I don’t want to push you.”

“You’re not pushing me. I’m telling you you’re not pushing me. If anything, I’m pushing you.” I pause. “Which I probably be shouldn’t doing either. Sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable.”

Rastek laughs. “No, no. You’re not.” He gives me a fond look. “There is very little you could do to me that I would not enjoy.”

My entire body flushes at that, and Rastek looks highly amused. “Good to know,” I say. “Can you come over here?” He obligingly moves closer, kneeling down when I gesture for him to do so.

He gives me an odd look when I bring my hand up to touch his face. Even so, he still leans into the touch. His eyes go half-lidded and sleepy with affection. I keep my fingertips resting on his cheek, waiting until he relaxes completely and I can move his head around with no resistance. Then, slowly and deliberately, I draw his face in and press a kiss to his lips.

A startled exhale puffs against my face, but he doesn’t move other than that. My eyes are still half-open, enough to see that his own eyes have shot open in shock. And then, slowly, they drift closed. He leans into the kiss, pushing further when I tilt my head in a way he likes. His mouth opens against mine, just slightly, enough for me to feel that his teeth are slightly sharper than I was expecting.

The kiss doesn’t stop so much as it trails off, slowing until our mouths are just barely touching. I wish it could last longer, but the position I have to lean into is hurting my back. Rastek helps me back into the bed as I stop the kiss. He strokes a hand along my hairline with incredible delicateness.

“I don’t remember everything,” I say. “But I remember a lot. I don’t know if I’ll ever remember anything completely, and a lot of it is just sort of vague feelings, senses of things. But I think, even if I didn’t remember anything, I would still love you. I love you. So much.”

Rastek doesn’t say anything for a moment. His hand keeps moving along my hairline, a soft, tickling sensation. My eyes drift partially closed. “I love you too,” he murmurs. “I would still love you, even if you didn’t remember anything.” My eyes fall fully shut and I only just catch the last couple of words he speaks. “But I’m glad you do.”

After that, Rastek barely ever seems to leave my side. I know he’s stepping away at some points, because his clothes change and he looks reasonably clean. But he’s nearly always there. Even the few times where he has to step away to take care of other business, he always returns quickly. Several times, I catch him giving me fond looks, a sort of misty look in his eyes.

Rastek sweeps in one morning, cloak trailing behind him and a serious look on his face. I’m immediately alert. It’s unusual for him to be absent when I wake up, but he’s been gone for the whole morning.

“Everything all right?” I ask, taking in his stern expression. He sits down next to me, huffing out a sigh.

“You said you wanted to talk with Ethan,” he says, not looking into my face. I nod. “He’s being transported out tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” I repeat. “Wh- what happened? I thought you would tell me sooner if he was going to be moved.”

“I was trying to get it stalled for longer,” Rastek says. “But I can’t delay it anymore. He’s going to be moved out tomorrow.” He licks his lips, his gaze shifting to a point on the ground. “Do you still want to see him?”

“Yes,” I say instantly. “Is there still time?”

“There is,” Rastek says, slowly lifting his head. “If you’re feeling up to it.”

“I am,” I say. “Hold on, I just need to-” I scramble to get out of bed. Rastek catches my shoulder as I tip a little to one side.

“Take it easy. Don’t rush. You’re sure you’re feeling well enough to do this?” He scans my face intently, looking for any sign of weakness or fatigue. I draw myself up, setting my jaw.

“I’m okay. I want to speak to him.” Rastek brings his hand up to cradle the side of my head for a moment. He gazes into my face, eyes warm and searching. He dips his chin in a small nod.

“All right. Then we’ll go.” He holds my hand as I get up. My legs are still unsteady, but with Rastek’s help, I can walk with little issue. His tail keeps curling close to me, which can sometimes make me a little unsteady, but I don’t point it out. His anxiety is a palpable presence in the air, and if he feels better by having his tail close to me, then I’m not going to push against that.

It’s the first time I’ve actually been out of the med tent in a while, and the sun on my skin is astoundingly pleasant. I pause for a moment to take it in. Rastek stops as well, tilting his head back so the sun falls on his face. He lets out a low sigh.

“It’s nice out,” I say. Rastek nods.

“It is.” He squeezes my hand. “We’re keeping Ethan over this way.”

Rastek guides me across the land, weaving through other soldiers and workers bustling around the camp. Sometimes the dip their heads respectfully in our direction, but most just stare at us like they’re trying not to get noticed. I wonder exactly how much they know about what happened. Most of them seem to be looking at us with some sort of naked curiosity, so I assume they don’t know much. Rastek swings his gaze around in a brutal glower and most of the starers scatter.

The tent they’re keeping Ethan in is not terribly close to the edge or the center of camp, and it’s demarcated by enormous orange flags flapping above it and the guards stationed outside it. The entire tent seems to flicker, like there’s a heat shimmer around it, and the air tingles my skin and head. I recognize the sensation. The tent must be enchanted, somehow.

One of the guards steps forward as we approach. “Sir,” she says. “Are you here to interrogate the prisoner?”

“Not exactly,” Rastek says. “My wife wants to speak to him.” For the first time, I feel a warm glow in my chest from being referred to as his wife. Even his voice seems to curl around the word with fondness.

The guard looks at me for a moment. I can’t make out most of her face, but her eyes look doubtful. But she doesn’t protest, instead bending forward in a half bow. “Yes, sir.” The other guards step away, leaving us a clear path through the tent flap.

As I step through the entranceway of the tent, my ears buzz like they’ve been filled with static, then pop. I wince and shift my jaw, feeling that discomfort that you get when you’ve ascended in an airplane. It takes me a moment to realize what else changed since I stepped inside- it’s almost dead silent. There are a few tiny sounds, like breathing and the clinking of chains, but the noise from outside the tent is silent.

That must be the magic I felt, or at least part of it. Makes sense. If they’ve been trying to get information out of him, they probably didn’t want anyone outside to be able to hear it. Or if Ethan screamed for help.

Speaking of Ethan, he is seated on the floor of the tent in front of us. Maybe ‘seated’ is the wrong word, though. He’s more kneeling on the ground, forced into the position by the chains on his wrists and feet. There’s barely any slack to the chains at all- I can’t imagine he can move more than a few inches. He’s wearing a thin, grimy robe, his hair is wildly unkempt, and his face is swollen. It looks like someone gave him a particularly bad black eye. I’m honestly surprised he doesn’t look worse. Then I realize that most of the brownish stains on his robe are dried blood and his nose is more off-center than it was the last time I saw him and a patch of his hair has completely fallen out, leaving a bald patch in its place.

He tried to kill you and your husband, I remind myself. If anything, he deserves it.

Ethan doesn’t say anything as I watch him. “Hello,” I try. He stares at me.

“He’s not said anything,” another voice says. I glance over. There’s a middle aged woman a few feet away. She’s wearing more armor, and even though I think she’s talking to us, she doesn’t turn her face away from Ethan. “I’m not sure if there’s anything else we can get out of him.” She turns her head a fraction to include me in her glare. The doubt is palpable.

“Regardless,” Rastek says. “I think she deserves an opportunity to talk to him.” The guard shrugs.

“I certainly won’t refuse her that. Just don’t expect to get any information out of it.” The guard gestures toward a table. “We’ve got all sorts of tools over there. Take your pick.”

I glance where she indicated. There are an awful lot of knives, and several other implements that look like they could be used for some very creative torture. The one that catches my eye most looks like a combination of a dentist’s drill and a trepanning tool I saw in a book about old medicine. My brain immediately starts trying to come up with ways that thing could be used on the human body and I have to deliberately get it back on track.

“That’s not quite what we’re here for,” Rastek says.

“Yes, I wasn’t planning on torture,” I agree. “I was just going to ask him a few questions.”

The woman shrugs. “You can ask, if you’d like. But he’s barely been answering with encouragement. I don’t know how much you’ll get out of him without it.”

I brush her off. “Regardless. I’d like to try.” Ethan lifts his gaze halfway toward mine before dropping it away again. It’s the most he’s moved since I’ve entered the tent. “And I’d like to do it alone.”

The woman glances at Rastek, looking for his confirmation. He gives a nod and she steps out of the tent. Rastek, on the other hand, doesn’t move.

“I meant alone,” I repeat, looking at him. He blinks and blanches.

“That,” he grinds out, “would not be a very good idea.” Ethan actually lifts his head this time, watching us with mild interest.

“I still want to do it. He’s chained up. What is he going to do?”

“We can’t hear you from outside the tent. You’re still recovering. If something happens- if anything, even something minor, happens- We might not be able to help you.”

“I know it’s a risk. But I want to talk to him on my own. He might be more open,” I say. “You agreed that I would be allowed to talk to him.”

“Yes, assuming that I or someone else would be allowed to stay with you! We’ve taken every precaution, but that doesn’t mean something can’t go wrong.” Rastek gives me an almost pleading look. “I will not allow anything to happen to you ever again.”

He looks nearly desperate. I worry my lower lip. In fairness, he’s right. I can’t fight Ethan off on my own, and even a momentary advantage for him could be a problem if no one can hear me scream. “Okay,” I say after a moment. “Then a compromise. Stand just outside the tent, outside of the sound, but keep the entrance to the tent open so you can watch. If anything happens, you’ll be able to see and stop him.”

Rastek processes that for a moment. I can see him rolling over the ways it could go wrong in his head. “Why is it so important to speak to him alone?” he finally asks. “It would be safer if I stayed.”

“I know,” I say. “But it feels like something I have to do. I want the closure. And for that, I need to talk to him alone. Maybe he’ll give me some answers he wouldn’t give others.”

Rastek presses his lips together. “He may not,” he continues stubbornly.

“But it’s better to try,” I plead. “I beat him already once in way worse circumstances. I can do it again.”

Rastek huffs out a breath. He lifts his hand to brush a thumb along my cheek. “I don’t mean to doubt you. I’m just worried.” He leans in to press a quick kiss to my forehead. “Okay. I’ll be waiting just outside. And…” He glances around me at Ethan and narrows his eyes. “Be careful. Don’t get too close to him.”

“I won’t,” I say. Rastek looks at me for a moment longer, then heads toward the tent entrance. He doesn’t walk backward, but he doesn’t turn around fully either, turning his head so he can keep an eye on us. He pauses at the entrance of the tent, not walking across the barrier for a moment longer. His chest heaves up in a massive, worried sigh. Then he crosses the threshold and he’s beyond the sound bubble of the tent.

It’s not that much quieter with him gone- just one less person breathing. But the atmosphere in the tent is different. I steel myself, steady my heartbeat, and turn to look fully at Ethan.

He’s still slumped on the floor, but his head is lifted so his gaze is on me. There’s not a lot I can read in his expression. Mostly, he looks exhausted. I take a couple hesitant steps closer to him, stopping so I’m out of his reach- or at least what his reach would be if his arms weren’t chained. They look pretty secure, but I’m not going to take any chances.

“Hello,” I say. He doesn’t reply. He just lowers his head so his chin is touching his chest again. “I wanted to talk to you.”

No response. I suppose I shouldn’t have assumed he’d be raring to speak right away. I deliberately gentle my voice. “Look, I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to know what you were doing.”

Ethan refuses to move. He keeps staring down, his chest slowly rising and falling. I can’t get a good look at his expression, but I think there’s a muscle ticking in his jaw. “Why were you trying to poison Rastek?” I ask. “Why were you even pretending to be a servant anyway?”

“I wasn’t pretending,” Ethan snaps and looks immediately regretful. He presses his lips together and tucks his chin more firmly against his chest.

“You weren’t pretending,” I repeat thoughtfully. “Then you were a servant before you were recruited to kill Rastek?” He doesn’t say anything. “How long ago did you get recruited?” He keeps his head down and his mouth closed. “Was it before the attack on me?”

That makes him twitch a little. “Is that a yes?” I ask. No answer. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence you were around both when someone tried to kill me and when someone tried to kill Rastek. You’re involved.”

“I’m not going to tell you anything,” Ethan says. His voice is raspy and brittle. “What’s the point?”

“They might let you off with less punishment if you’re willing to share information,” I say. I have no idea if that’s true. I suppose I could try to put in a good word with Rastek, but I don’t know how much influence he has. Nor can I really say that Rastek would actually do anything to help, even if I asked him.

“I’m going to either stay in the dungeon for the rest of my life, or I’m going to be executed,” Ethan says. He tilts his head, glaring up at me from under his disheveled bangs. “Not a thing I’ll tell you will change that.” He tips his chin toward Rastek, who’s still standing in the tent entranceway, partially wreathed in shadow. “He’ll make sure of that.” Ethan parts his lips in a vicious smile. “If anything, he’ll make me stay in the dungeon for as long as I live. Cowering in the worst, most rat-infested parts of it, cold and miserable and not allowed to die until he’s convinced I’ve suffered enough.”

I breathe in slow and let it out slower. “If you don’t give them information, they’ll take you away and torture you until you give them something.”

“It’ll never work.”

“I know that. You know that. But it’s still gonna hurt. You’re still going to be trapped in that dungeon.” I lean a little closer, still keeping myself out of his arm’s reach. “If you give me something, they won’t have reason to keep you. At the very least, they’ll execute you quickly.”

Ethan doesn’t say anything. I think he’s considering it, but it’s hard to tell. “If nothing else,” I say, “I think I deserve to know why you did this to me. Why you did this to us. I want to know.”

He stays silent. It stretches on and on. Maybe it’s only for a few minutes, but it feels like a long time when you’re just waiting. I glance over my shoulder at Rastek. How much longer is he going to let me stay in here? Ethan could end up just waiting me out.

Abruptly, Ethan coughs out a laugh. He shifts awkwardly in place, grimacing and huffing like he’s in pain. “You deserve to know, huh?” he asks. “A murderer deserves to know why people are trying to kill her?”

Irritation flashes through me. “I didn’t murder anyone.”

“No? Well, maybe you didn’t hold the knife. But it was your poison, your inventions, that killed people.” Ethan tugs against his chains. “You and your husband wiped out half a squadron in one battle. Paralyzed the soldiers and slaughtered them. Everyone knows about the warlord and his delicate wife who dreams of poisons and death.” He makes a noise surprisingly similar to a snarl. “The poisoner and her devoted husband. The one who hides in the shadows and the one who slaughters in the daylight.”

I would assume those nicknames are supposed to be me and Rastek, though it’s hard to connect them. How am I supposed to connect the vicious image he’s drawing with the man who fusses over me when I don’t feel well and looks like a kicked puppy when he’s sad? And the way he’s talking about me… well. I can’t make it fit at all.

“It’s war,” I say finally. “People die. I don’t imagine your side’s any better.”

Ethan doesn’t say anything for a moment. “No. Probably not.” He stares at the ground. “But my mother was one of the people who died from your poison. So I wasn’t upset when I was offered a chance to avenge her.”

I lick my lips. “I’m- I am sorry.”

He snorts. “Don’t bother. I know you’re not.”

“Is that why you were trying to kill me? Because you blame me for her death?”

“That’s why I volunteered for it. But the higher-ups commissioned it because they wanted you gone. Well. They wanted him gone.” Ethan tilts his chin toward the front of the tent, indicating Rastek. “And they knew the devoted husband would flee back to his wife the second she was hurt.”

“You tried to kill me to get to him,” I say, nodding.

“No. We tried to hurt you. If we could get you to die slowly, then he would be off the battlefield longer. He would tend to you.” Ethan spits the words. “And we could make gains- maybe even get him to stop being a warlord overall. It didn’t work.”

“It didn’t,” I agree thoughtfully. “But you got what you wanted anyway, because Rastek did leave to take care of me, even if it didn’t actually work the way you wanted it to.” I click my fingers, more pieces clicking into place in my mind. “And that’s why you were there. To monitor if he was going to head back. That’s why you didn’t do anything to me- you wanted more time to see if your plan was going to work at all.”

Ethan doesn’t say anything else. I think he’s already kicking himself for giving too much away. It doesn’t matter. I’m already off on my own tangent. “But then Rastek came back anyway, so you needed to act again. The person we found earlier was a spy. They were trying to see where the weak points were so you could try again, maybe get another shot off on me. But you got Rastek instead and decided to swap targets, since he was weaker and you could make sure to finish him off, but you got caught at the last moment.”

I stop. It’s extremely unsettling to think about how close both of us came to death. Random chance saved our lives both times- the spell screwing up for me and me arriving at just the right moment for Rastek. I look back toward the entrance to the tent. Rastek’s still standing there, waiting. The relief that he’s alive hits me all over like a massive wave. Before I can think about it, I’m striding toward him.

He looks down at me as I approach. “Is everything-” He’s cut off with a little grunt as I throw myself at him, squeezing him as tight as I can manage. He rests a hand on my back, rubbing in little circles.

Behind me is silent- back outside the silence bubble, I can’t hear anything Ethan says, if he’s even speaking. I don’t look back to check. I bury my face in Rastek’s chest. I can hear his breathing and the slow thump of his heart. That’s all I want to hear. It reminds me that he’s alive. That we’re both alive.

“What’s the matter?” Rastek asks, drawing his hand along the back of my head.

“Nothing,” I say. “I just- I’m glad we’re both alive.”

Rastek smiles. I can hear it in his voice when he speaks. “I am, too.”

I lift my head so I can look at him. “I’m done here. Let’s just… let’s go home.”

Rastek smiles wider and his chest shifts in a heavy, but contented sigh. “In good time, my darling. We will.”

We end up back in our tent in the center of camp. I explain what I deduced to Rastek, who nods along, brows pinched in thought. “I suppose that makes sense. A plan to get both of us out of the way.” He shakes his head. “I would have imagined it would be easier to slit our throats, but I suppose some people like complicated plans…”

“The way I was looking at it, it was more about delaying things than actually killing us. It’s hard to kill you in battle because you’re usually well-protected, and with the poison, I guess they figured you were sort of invulnerable. But if they attacked me, they knew you would leave, and by making me sick instead of killing me, they made it so you would be more occupied with taking care of me then getting revenge. And then you were off the battlefield anyway, which would delay the army, make it harder to coordinate, and you were distracted which would make it hard to command effectively. It’s a functional plan. Though probably too complicated.”

Rastek grimaces. “We’re going to need to set up better magic defenses at home. Clearly the moderate defenses we have weren’t enough.”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” I yawn, leaning over so I’m resting against him. He automatically puts an arm around me. His chest is ridiculously comfortable. “But for right now, I’m going to nap.”

He gives a warm laugh that makes his chest shift under my head. I snuggle more insistently against him. “I think that’s a good idea. For both of us.” Rastek allows himself to lean back, arms securing me against him.

“Do you not have work to do?” I ask, though I’m already closing my eyes.

“Later,” Rastek says. “Right now… sleep.”

We only get to sleep for a little while before an irritated healer all but drags me back to the healing tent. Fortunately, Rastek has some pity on me and brings some books for me to read, or for him to read out loud to me. He’s got a nice voice for stories- deep and soothing.

Toward the evening, Rastek vanishes for a bit. When he returns, he’s smiling and wearing a lighter set of clothes, completely stripped of his armor.

“Everything okay?” I ask as he sits down next to me.

“Mm,” he says. He reaches out and takes my hand in his. “I spoke to the healers. They said you’ll be okay to go home within a couple of days.”

“Oh,” I say, a bit surprised. “We can go home?”

“Now that Ethan has been captured, we can refine the protections on the manor based on the info we got. It’s not perfect, but the immediate danger seems to have passed now.” Rastek makes a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. “And I, for one, and looking forward to sleeping in my own bed once more.”

“A good bed would be nice,” I agree. The cot’s not terrible, all things considered, but it’s definitely more ‘camping trip comfortable’ than ‘actually comfortable.’ “And good food.”

“I was thinking you would appreciate a more pleasant meal,” Rastek says.

Something in the way he says it makes my stomach knot up. “Wait. You’re coming with me too, aren’t you? You’re not staying, right?”

Rastek lifts a hand to his mouth and his shoulders shake. In my worry, it takes me a moment to realize that he’s laughing at me. “Hey!” I protest.

“I’m very flattered that you’re so worried I’m not going to be with you,” he says, not entirely hiding his smile behind his hand. “Are you really that upset that I might leave you?”

“I like spending time with you and I’m not going to hide it,” I say stubbornly. “Unless you’d like me to start pretending I don’t like you.”

“No, no! Please don’t.” Rastek takes my hand in his and cradles it to his cheek. “Please, my darling. Don’t.” His seriousness is undercut by the twitching of his mouth.

“Since you asked so nicely,” I say in the most aloof tone I can manage. Rastek shivers with laughter, pushing in so close that he’s practically climbing into the bed next to me. A rush of warm familiarity rolls through me. Faded, but recognizable memories pool in my mind. It’s a relief. I’m so caught up in the moment that I forget I asked him something.

“Are you coming home?” I ask. Rastek hums gently.

“Yes. Apparently nearly getting poisoned to death gets you some guaranteed time off.” He sighs. “Which I could not be more grateful for. I don’t want to leave your side right now.”

“I’m not that fragile,” I say.

“Maybe not. But we’ve been through so much recently that I get a little anxious when I take my eyes off you now.”

I don’t protest. Mostly because I feel more or less the same way. In lieu of saying anything else, I lean into his touch. He lets out a contented breath, his eyes drifting half-closed. We rest together, soaking in the peace of being in each other’s presence with no immediate danger or worry to disturb us.

No one disturbs us for the rest of the day. Rastek ends up practically crawling into my cot with me to sleep, and I drift peacefully through the night, comforted by his presence.

The next morning, I’m woken by Rastek carefully climbing out of bed. He makes a hushing noise when I stir and grab at his clothes. “It’s all right. Sleep. There are just a few things I need to take care of.”

I protest wordlessly, clinging onto his clothes even as he tries to gently pry my fingers off. “Give me a minute, I’ll come too.”

“You don’t need to,” Rastek says, but it’s barely a protest. He waits for me while I shake off sleep and get out of bed.

We leave the tent together and Rastek leads me back to our little tent. “There’s some breakfast here,” he says, gesturing to the table. I pick up a biscuit and start chewing on it. By most standards, it would be sort of tough and bland. After days of getting little other than broth, water, and medicine, it tastes delicious. I make a noise of delight as I shove it in my mouth.

“Oh dear,” Rastek says in a light tone as I grab for another one. “Don’t tell me you’re actually enjoying that?” When I nod, he puts on a mock-worried expression. “That is troubling. You must not be able to remember what proper food tastes like. We need to get you back to civilization immediately.”

I snicker as he grabs a handful of dried fruit pieces. “You’re eating it, too.”

“Ah, but I’m not enjoying it,” Rastek says. “That’s the difference.” He sits down heavily in a chair, and his expression tenses for a moment. His exhale is strained, almost like a groan, and his tail twists, curling close to his body with tension.

“What’s wrong?” I ask. Rastek gives a tight smile.

“Just a bit of pain,” he says. “The wound I got still twinges from time to time, though I’ve been assured it is healing nicely.”

“Can I see it?” I ask. Rastek tugs up the side of his shirt and I crouch next to him.

There’s a clean, white wrap of bandages around his torso, tied in place. I reach up, slowly enough to allow him to stop me if he wishes, and untie it. My fingers trace his chest and sides with a touch as light as a ghost as I unwrap the bandages. His breathing hitches slightly, even though I’m trying to be gentle.

Under the bandages is the red slash of his wound. It’s not as severe as I remember it- not as deep or inflamed. Still, the cut is bright red and, while mostly scabbed over, there’s still some raw-looking patches. I tough it as lightly as I can and Rastek huffs out a startled breath.

“Sorry, sorry,” I mutter. “I’ll try not to touch too much.”

“It doesn’t hurt so badly,” Rastek says. “I just wasn’t expecting you to touch.” I gingerly probe his side. This time, he doesn’t flinch, though he makes a small noise of discomfort in the back of his throat.

“There’s no signs of infection or anything?” I ask. The wound still looks awfully red, but I’m not sure how to determine if that’s a dangerous redness or just normal. Rastek doesn’t feel or look feverish, which is a good sign, but the wound is a little warm to the touch.

“The last time the physician looked at it, he said it was healing nicely.” Rastek grimaces. “But he also told me to clean it out regularly, and I have been… perhaps a little negligent in that aspect.”

I lift my gaze from his injury to glare at him. “What?”

He actually looks sheepish, though I’m certain my gaze can’t have that much heat. “I’ve been busy and it’s not a comfortable process to clean it out…” He catches my eye again and hurriedly looks away. “I’ve been keeping clean bandages on it, so it’s not as if it’s unclean!”

“How come you’re allowed to complain about how I take care about myself, but then I find out that you’re treating yourself like garbage and suddenly you’re all defensive?” I ask. Rastek sputters a little, pink splotches darkening on his cheeks. “We’re going to clean it out now, okay?”

He huffs, but there’s no real exasperation in it. “There should be a water basin somewhere around here. Wet a cloth and you can use that.”

Sure enough, after a few seconds of searching, I locate a bucket of water. I drag it over, huffing with exertion. Rastek attempts to get up and assist, but I all but shove him back down. He allows me to handle him with minimal protests.

“Is the water clean?” I ask, peering at it in suspicion. It looks clear, but I don’t know how long it’s been sitting here. Rastek grunts and leans over, putting his hand into the water. I’m about to protest that he’s just contaminating it more when there’s a faint glimmer of light around his fingers.

“It’s clean now,” he says. “Simple purification spell.”

“You can just clean water like that?” I ask. “How come you can’t just clean a wound like that?”

“It’s a water purification spell- if you tried it on a person, you would purify their blood back to water and that would be bad,” Rastek says. “Not that I’m strong enough to do that- a bucket of this size is already a bit of a strain on my abilities.”

I soak the cloth and wring out the excess. “This might hurt,” I say, hovering it over the wound. Rastek just makes a ‘get on with it’ motion with his other hand.

He hisses in sharply when I touch the cloth to him and all of his muscles flex taunt, but he doesn’t actually flinch. I do my best to be gentle, touching the raw areas as lightly as I possibly can. Rastek relaxes after a moment, gradually softening into my touch.

One of my hands comes to rest on his stomach, just as a place to rest it while the other hand is busy handling the cloth. I can feel him breathing under my touch- the slow rise and fall under my fingers. The slight twitches and shifts of his muscles. One of his hands comes to rest on the back of my head, fingertips scratching against my scalp. Sometimes, when I push a little too hard or move the cloth the wrong way, his fingertips twitch or his abs flex under my hand and I know to back off. We stay in silence for a while, communicating only with little motions and gestures that tell the other what we need.

When the wound looks satisfyingly clean, I fetch a roll of bandages and re-wrap it. Rastek moves pliantly wherever I guide him, leaning forward and lifting his arms when necessary. I secure the wrap at his shoulder and run my hands over it to ensure it sits flat and covers the wound completely.

“How’s that feel?” I ask.

“A little sore,” Rastek says. “But clean. Which is nice.” He looks up at me and I really register my position for the first time. I’m standing between his legs, bent down slightly to look into his face with one of my hands resting on his lower torso. Our faces are quite close. Rastek’s eyes gleam gold under his thick eyelashes, his tongue just barely tracing the bow of his upper lip.

Something hot flashes through me and I lean over and press my mouth to his.

He sighs into it, pushing back up into the kiss- I’m sure he could knock me over or take control if he really wanted to, but he tempers it so we’re meeting each other in the middle. I lean closer, sinking down until I’m resting on his lap. He hooks his arms around me, turning his head to get a better angle, and sighs into the kiss.

It’s so warm, being held by him. Not an oppressive heat, but the sort of gentle warmth that the sun gives on a spring day. Like the warmth of being wrapped up in bed when you have nowhere to go and time to just rest. It’s such a perfect and utterly familiar sensation, one that swells in my mind until-

Oh. I remember this. We kissed for the first time under a tree in Rastek’s garden. And I felt the same warmth then. And the next time we kissed, as well. And every time after that. When I’m with him, there’s always that same, comforting warmth.

Some of the memories are still vague, and there are blank spots, but what I remember, more than anything, is his warmth. No matter what happens, we can handle it together. That wound on his side is proof that I can save him, and he can save me. No matter what.

Rastek pulls back from the kiss and reaches a hand up toward my face. It’s only when he starts running his thumb under my eyes to swipe away wetness that I realize that I’ve started crying. “What’s wrong?” he asks, voice hushed and worried.

“Nothing’s wrong,” I whisper, blinking to clear the last of the tears from my eyes. Rastek wipes them away as soon as they touch my cheeks. “I was just thinking that I’m happy we lived and I’m happy I’m with you.”

He bumps his forehead against mine. “I’m happy too.” His voice is choked with emotion.

“Do you remember,” I start, “when you asked me to marry you?”

Rastek murmurs a small noise of assent. He doesn’t say more, waiting for me to keep going.

“We were walking in our garden,” I say. “Right on the edge of the bit you’d set aside for me to grow my herbs. It was just past sunset, so the stars were coming out. I was just talking about what I was growing, nothing special. We’d talked about marriage in the past, but I didn’t think- I wasn’t sure if you would.

“You led me over to this small side part of the garden and there was a little sitting area. Something with cushions and places to lie down, since I have trouble standing for a long time. We sat there together and you told me that you wanted me to have a place outside.” I laugh. “And then I pointed out that it was in full view of where you trained, so I would be able to sit outside and watch you if I wanted-”

“Which I happen to recall you were pleased about,” Rastek cuts in, chest shaking with laughter.

“I’m telling the story,” I say to hush him, though he’s still laughing to himself. “Yes, I was happy about it, okay? I liked being able to be around you, even when I wasn’t feeling well.” I clear my throat to continue. “And then you took my hand and told me that you loved me and you wanted to be with me forever, and you asked if I would marry you.”

Rastek hums happily. “The look on your face was wonderful.”

“I was surprised,” I protest. “I really didn’t expect you to ask me to marry you. I probably can’t have kids and I’m sick so often, I thought maybe you wouldn’t want to tie yourself to me forever. Not officially like that.”

“You always point that out,” Rastek says. “But I love you. Clever you, caring you, the you that is thoughtful and kind and practical. The you that loves me, just as I love you.”

“And I love you. Always.” I catch one of Rastek’s hands and lift it to my mouth, pressing a kiss to his wrist, right at his pulse point. His breath catches. “You said something similar to me, then. And then I kissed you like this…” I draw my lips back to his wrist, letting my teeth trace his skin. Rastek shivers. “And then… there was something that happened next, wasn’t there?”

“Yes,” Rastek says, his voice low and husky. “There was.” His free arm comes to my waist and he pulls me flush against him. “Perhaps it would help if you had a reminder.”

“Maybe it would,” I agree.” And then Rastek presses his mouth to mine, hard enough that I can feel the sharp edges of his fangs against my lips. His arms lock around me, holding me firm against him, then he stands. I let out a startled ‘eep!’ but Rastek only takes a few steps before sinking into the pile of pillows and cloth that make up the ‘bed’ section of the tent. He pins me under him, tail lashing furiously against the sheets. For my part, I’m trying to wrap my fingers through his hair to get a good grip. Every time I tug a little, he makes a muffled noise that I want him to keep making.

He breaks away from the kiss, wide-eyed and panting. “Are you sure?” he asks, panting a little. “You’re sure you’re-”

I use the fingers tangled in his hair to yank him back down on top of me. He does not ask again.

 Rastek has to rush to get things completed in time for us to leave after that, but he seems to be in quite a good mood regardless. I’m particularly tired and I end up napping for a while, before hastily throwing all my stuff together and hurrying to meet Rastek at the edge of camp.

We get into the carriage together. “Ready to go home?” Rastek asks. I nod.

“I’m ready to go home,” I say. Rastek reaches over to squeeze my hand. He looks the most peaceful and content I’ve seen him since I lost my memories. All I can feel is an overwhelming sense of joy. We’re together and alive. What else could I ask for?

The journey is quiet, and I couldn’t be more grateful for that. Rastek and I don’t speak much, at least not about anything important. Sometimes we comment on the weather or talk about magic or gardening or anything else that catches our attention. We joke around, laugh, and enjoy the peace of the moment. Sometimes, I catch Rastek staring at me with a soft, happy expression on his face. I’d tease him about it, but I’m sure he’s seen me doing the same on more than one occasion.

Once we’re back at the manor, I get to my bed and fall face-first into it. It is enormously soft and wonderful. Rastek clambers in next to me and lets out a long, heavy sigh.

“Welcome home,” he murmurs to me. I roll over so I’m facing him. My fingers trace the lines of his face and his eyes get sleepy and unfocused.

“We’re home,” I agree. And, looking at him, I do feel like I have finally managed to come home.

Two weeks later, I’m sitting in the garden, watching Rastek complete some training exercises. His wound has healed nicely, and though he still has occasional moments of exhaustion, and I have to remind him not to exert himself too much. It’s a little nice, to be the one forcing him to rest instead of the other way around. Though I have to say, there is a small part of me that misses being exceedingly pampered.

My memory is strangely spotty still- the thaumatist looked me over several times and eventually declared that it would likely never return fully, but I have enough to get by- I can at least intuitively remember the names and faces of most important people, and I can navigate the manor as long as I don’t think too hard about where I’m going and let muscle memory take some of the burden. I’m cautious with mixing medicines and poisons, but that seems to have come back more strongly than almost anything else.

Almost anything else, because my memories of Rastek are striking in their number. The thaumatist suggested that simply being near him and speaking to him so much may have triggered them to come back the strongest, but there is a cheesy part of me that wonders if it’s the power of true love. Probably not, but Rastek blushed like fire when I suggested it to him, so it’s the answer I find the most fun.

Rastek whacks a training dummy to the ground and finally sheathes his sword. He’s panting with exertion, sweat coating his brow. It’s not something that would usually exhaust him so much, and I can tell from the set of his shoulders down to the irritated, cat-like twitch of his tail that he’s not happy about it.

“Come sit down,” I call out to him. He whips his tail around once more before relenting and walking over to me. The bed-couch seat that I’m in groans as he flops his weight onto it. I give him a pat on the shoulder. “This new workout routine is tough, huh?”

He pulls a face. “It should be nothing, compared to what I’m used to.”

“You were poisoned and almost died. Cut yourself some slack,” I say. “Anyway. I kind of like being on vacation.”

“Recovery is not a vacation,” Rastek grumbles. “This is more akin to torture.”

“I’m enjoying it,” I say. “And you were enjoying it too, last ni-”

Rastek cuts me off by laying a finger against my lips. “Yes, yes, I suppose I was.” He lowers his hand. “But I was thinking of going on a real vacation.”

“A real vacation?” I repeat.

“Yes. You know. Traveling.” He shifts into a more comfortable position, tail curling around me. “We haven’t done much of it before, because I was always afraid of pushing you too hard, but perhaps now is a good time. I’m not going back into the field for a while, and if we’re places we’ve never bene before, the gaps in your memory won’t be as noticeable.”

“Not worried about pushing me anymore, huh?” I tease.

“I think you’ve shown you can handle yourself quite capably,” Rastek says.

“Or maybe you’re just coming to terms with the fact that you’re the delicate one in this relationship now.” Rastek bursts into incredulous laughter. “Look, there’s no need to be embarrassed! Your body just has a weaker constitution after the poison, so-”

“Weaker, huh?” Rastek tackles me and pins me beneath him, though he’s quite gentle while doing so. If I really wanted to, I’m sure I could have resisted him. “Would you like to say that again?” There’s a playful growl in his voice.

I roll my eyes. “And here I thought you liked being called weak sometimes. Or should we just not repeat that-”

“I didn’t say that,” Rastek snaps, cutting me off. He shifts off me a little, giving me just enough room to sit up. “But I should complete my training before dinner, lest I become as weak as you proclaim me to be.”            “Just don’t push yourself too hard,” I say as he stands up and readjusts his armor. “And I would love to go on vacation with you, by the way.”

He smiles. “Then we can talk details over dinner. Perhaps I can take you to one of the Ley centers- we only ever visited there briefly, and it’s something we’ve wanted to go to for a long while.”

“Yeah,” I say, my chest warming. “I remember that.” I smile at him. “I love you.”

He bends over and presses a chaste kiss to the corner of my mouth. “And I love you, my dearest.

#exophilia #dragon husband #monster romance #male monster #monster love #dragon lover #monster lover #male dragon #Rastek #the warlord and his lady

[thenanamisimp]

Danmei and MXTX novels

Would you look at that, another post that's not about anime? WILD. It is about MXTX novels though so the hyperfixations continue. I'm actually in the process of planning a very lengthy analysis of all three of her series but this is a warning, don't expect too much. I was never good at those in school plus it's been almost 7 years since I've last written something like that but I feel so passionate about her works that I really wanna try to share what I thought about the novels. Nevertheless, this isn't actually those analysis posts since those are gonna be separate and will probably be written after I re-read each series. However, since I'm actually finally fully done reading all her series - including the extra side chapters - I wanted to quickly share some of my opinions and how I feel after finishing all 18 of the books.

This goes without saying but just in case - SPOILER WARNING for Heaven Official's Blessing, The grandmaster of demonic cultivation and The scum villain's self saving system novels.

First off, if you haven't read any of MXTX's work before, prepare for trauma and tragedy. Most of her characters are either deeply traumatised already or in the process of. I will always encourage people to read content warnings before reading her books.

Starting off with my favourite - TGCF or Tian Guan Ci Fu (aka Heaven Official's Blessing). This story means a lot to me. I got introduced to TGCF through the donghua before I even knew it was queer fiction and even with censorship, the closet is made of fucking GLASS so I had to look for the source material. Honestly it took me a while to commit to reading the whole series as I've been struggling to pick up books for years now but TGCF actually got me back into reading (I think in total it took me about 8 days to read all 8 volumes). More than just the story telling being good, I got so incredibly attached to every single character (except Jun Wu, he can eat shit - tho the fact I'm even saying this speaks volumes about how well MXTX can write characters. It takes a lot for me to hate a character this much).

Taking place in a beautiful fantasy world, we follow Xie Lian and Hua Cheng through tragic traumatic past and present and we learn of the horrible truths about the lives of immortal beings. We also see two idiots in love take their sweet ass time to confess. I love me a good slow burn full of longing and pining. I eat that shit UP every time and MXTX gave it to me with every single one of her series.

TGCF for me was a journey full of kicking my feet at fluff, second hand embarrassment (because xl I stg, what do you MEAN you were taught how to resist the advances of women but not how to resist hot men you gay lil shit the closet is made of glass) and honestly, lots of crying. The hundred stabs incident, ruoye's creation and hcg's last death made me sob and scream (no exaggeration, I was stomping around my room, crying and yelling GIVE HIM BACK RIGHT NOW).

Also, in a not so unpopular opinion (I think?), Pei Ming is my fave because 1) he's the no.1 Hualian shipper - check the whole Mt Tunglu adventure for proof and also 2) he's just a lil slut with a big heart. I could seriously talk about him forever because I went from hating him after he tried to throw the blame for the Banyue Pass incident on Xie Lian, to loving him after I realised that everything he does, he does because he is truly just a kind man who loves a good fight. He's so silly! Just a lil guy! Go Pei Ming go!

Fuck you Jun Wu. Again. (I hate him just as much as I hate Mahito. Maybe a little less. I really hate Mahito).

Moving on to my second favourite (but honestly it's such a close one), MDZS or Mo Dao Zu Shi (The grandmaster of demonic cultivation). Take a wild guess about how I got introduced to it... Fandom of course, because very few people talk about TGCF online without mentioning MDZS so I just had to give it a chance.

The great grandmaster of demonic cultivation has been dead for a while but when he gets gifted a new body through a not so well known demonic ritual, he runs into an old acquaintance. We learn about Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji's past and current world of cultivation and hear stories about messy betrayals and conspiracies. Aaaand we find out about some more trauma and tragedy because is it really an MXTX novel without it?

And talk about a rollercoaster because (and please don't hate me for this) I found Wei Wuxian annoying initially.... But it's okay now because I kin him so go figure. Tho I actually kin only his adult self, I was a very introverted and rule abiding teenager, a lil more like Lan Wangji. In any case, wwx is the same stupid chaotic bisexual that I am and he is babygurl. Yeah and what if he murdered 3000 people? It was self defense. THEY ATTACKED FIRST. Your honour, he did nothing wrong and he does not deserve to be punished!

On a serious note, MDZS explores so many themes that are personally important to me, my favourite being the power dynamics of the world. It’s truly moving that even with all the pain Wei Wuxian went through, how far in his cultivation and how powerful he got, he still couldn't protect those he loved (until Lan Wangji of course because Wangxian is perfect together and they always protect and defend each other. Wangxian my beloved). While it might be a stretch for some, it really reminded me of how powerless we are in the world. People aim to educate themselves and go on to do whatever they can to better the world in their own way and yet, it really feels like nothing’s improving sometimes. I could talk about this for hours but maybe I’ll leave that for another time and another analysis post since this is supposed to be a shorter one (lmao)

Last but not least, RZFZX or Ren Zha Fanpai Zijiu Xitong (honestly this one I use the english name for because I can’t pronounce the chinese as much as I try - The scum villain's self saving system or Svsss). This one I actually kinda struggled with - first of all because WHY BUGS MXTX. Not much bothers me in fiction but BUGS? Too far. Heads with spider legs? Raw flesh with maggots? Blood mites? I was out (for about half an hour and then I kept reading). Please note that it's not the raw flesh that bothered me, it was the fucking maggots. I can read about graphic murder, creepy hauntings, torture and many more but as soon as there are bugs? Nope! I’m done. People have phobias and that’s mine I guess. Enough ranting about bugs!

The story follows Shen Qingqiu, the scum villain of the hit web novel Proud Immortal Demon's Way (or PIDW for short, as it's referred to in Svsss) who is actually one of the original readers - and haters - of PIDW, who transmigrates into the book in order to fix the plot holes left by the original author. With his guide “the system” he does his best to lead the male lead of PIDW, Luo Binghe, down a better path than in the original story.

Svsss employs a comedic way of storytelling, with our protagonist being omniscient, it allows for the narration to be sarcastic and poke fun at a lot of moments that are cliche or badly written, as interpreted by sqq. Honestly, this is just a personal preference but I favour the more serious storytelling way of MDZS and TGCF (give me hurt until the very end when the main characters get together and then give me comfort).

To me, Svsss is a lot harder to analyse as a lot of its themes are unfamiliar to me, especially considering I’m the furthest from having any sort of humanitarian education (I have 2 engineering degrees). Using a story within a story, MXTX is able to deliver two main overarching themes; one about abuse and its results through Luo Binghe as well as one about the relationship of author and their readers, the feeling of being trapped by the readers' opinions and wanting your story to be liked through Shang Qinghua (to be honest, I hadn’t really picked up on this one until I saw discussion about this in the fandom).

If I'm being completely honest, I don't think I grasped this series as well as the other ones and I'm finding it hard to digest lbg and sqq's relationship. I'm unsure as to what it is that's holding me back from loving them as much as Hualian and Wangxian. I do tend to prefer tropes like theirs more than the whole "had to convince him to date me" thing which is what Bingqiu's relationship seemed like to me up until the end of volume 3. It’s also why I'm glad I actually followed through and finished the extras in volume 4 (I was really tempted to stop reading once I finished volume 3 not gonna lie). I believe those to be integral to understanding sqq's feelings towards lbh and while I understand that sqq did actually love lbh from the beginning (denial is a river in egypt and the gloset is made of glass - what the fuck is with MXTX's bottoms and the damn glass closet), I struggled to see the tipping point of where he actually understood his own feelings and what was going on in his head and that he was actually in love with lbh. Which is why I think to really understand Svsss, I would seriously need to reread it.

I also would love to eventually talk about queerness in MXTX's work because in each book, sexuality and queerness is explored and examined in so many different ways. As a queer person myself, it fascinates me as I can relate to so much of it. To be honest, I think I could write a short thesis on just this.

Honestly, while I'm very passionate about my favourite pieces of media (if you've heard me talk about any of my top 5 anime you'll understand what I mean), there hasn't been a lot of things outside JJK and MXTX's novels that have made me wanna dive deep into analysing every single detail. It genuinely makes me feel like I'm gonna implode sometimes. These 3 series have seriously reignited my love for reading. I was shown that a good book - in my opinion of course - doesn't need to avoid difficult topics. It simply needs to use them well as a means of delivering a message and a story, rather than them being included just to be included. They also reminded me that I love queer fiction and I need to read more.

I actually would really like to read Erha (or 2ha or The husky and his white cat shizun) but I've read the content warnings and I'm ~~apprehensive~~. While not a lot of things bother me, I'm not sure I want to read about that stuff (please look at the content warnings of this book, or any piece of media in that matter, especially if you have topics that easily bother or trigger you). Remember, it's our responsibility as readers/consumers to look out for ourselves first!

Please recommend any good danmei (other than MXTX) and possibly include links where they can be read! I would also highly appreciate recommendations for some good wlw fantasy fiction as I really would love to read some wlw novels - or even anime/movies/webtoons/manga. Just in desperate need of quality wlw content.

Also while I said I'd keep it short, it seems I ended up writing over 2000 words…

PS. I proofread this about 5 times and during one of them my file crashed, so if there's any mistakes or if I’m not making sense somewhere, blame my deep-fried brain, thanks

Thanks for reading my novel ramble! Enjoy reading :)

theNanamiSimp

#i'm adding a lot of tags because i put a lot of effort into this post actually and i want people to see it #danmei #mo dao zu shi #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #tian guan ci fu #heaven official's blessing #scum villain's self saving system #scum villain #mxtx #mo xiang tong xiu #hualian #hua cheng #xie lian #wangxian #wei wuxian #lan wangji #bingqiu #luo binghe #shen qingqiu

[greypetrel]

Fanfic Writer Questions

Tagged by @melisusthewee, and at least another person. I'm sorry if I ignored the tag, I was away and it's a busy period, let me know ;_;

Tagging forward: @ndostairlyrium @shivunin @inquisimer and YOU who are reading and would like to do it!

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 12, right now.

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 497,183 ... I'm chatty.

3. What fandoms do you write for? Dragon Age, and a crossover with LOTR/The Silmarillion.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Home Was Never on the Ground (long fic, concluded, it's anthological and mainly me filling blanks in DAI as inspiration stroke)

She of Many Names (ongoing, a LOTR/Dragon Age crossover. A follower on Instagram asked me if Aisling was Sauron, the idea made me laugh so much that my mind took fire.)

Saturday Prompts (a collection of prompts I posted here. I never uploaded every one of them, oops)

Death and All of Its Friends (ongoing, a DA2 collection)

The Night Before First Day (Two chapters, concluded. One it's in rhyme and illustrated. Aisling taught her daughter that the Dreadwolf is Santa out of spite. Solas tries to disapprove.)

5. Do you respond to comments? Yes, always!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I do love angst, but I don't like angsty endings all that much ahahahahah. I think the one that gets closer, in a bitter-sweet way, is One for the Road. Call me a sucker for rare-pairs, this was also prompted here and my brain took fire (LavellanxFenris)

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? The Night Before First Day. Listen I'm not a Christmas person, I turn into a seasonal depressed Grinch at Christmas, living in a catholic country doesn't help, and that is my way of giving myself some joy.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not that I know of.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Not any that I publish.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? Yes I do. She of Many Names is a Dragon Age and LOTR crossover. I love it dearly, I'm slow to update it because I have the greatest love for Tolkien (with all his flaws, but my brain rewired when I saw the first movie, and the book has been my entire personality for two years. I wouldn't be the same person without it) and I do care of rendering it as I want.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? ... Not that I know of? I hope not, ahahahah :"D

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? If you consider that English is not my first language, all my fics are translated? xD Other than that, no.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? No, but I'd love to.

14. What's your all time favorite ship? EowynxFaramir, hands down. Out of pure lenght. Maybe LeiaxHan Solo (my parents are both nerds, I think my mom made me watch Star Wars the first time... I don't remember, the vhs were always around in the house. I was very, very little.)(we don't talk about the sequel trilogy.)

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I tried to write a third chapter for the aforementioned One for the Road... But it ends up in a love triangle and I don't like love triangles that aren't a poly relationship. So, it's sitting in my folder and I'll never finish it. I was considering ditching the second chapter and rewrite it as a "Aisling as a companion in DA2" fic... But MEH.

16. What are your writing strengths? I think dialogue. I am trained as a comic artist, which means that the writing parts that get polished are dialogue. I have much more experience with that. ... I am also terrible at judging my own work in a positive way, tho, so you tell me.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? English not being my first language and leading to mis-spellings. Other than that... I started writing fanfiction after YEARS of not writing anything in prose that wasn't screenplays for comics (which follows different rules). Since I stopped because of being hurt by it, I went on to it by not planning stuff.

I'm rusty with prose, and my retelling -the first thing I tackled- clearly had little planning ahead.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? It's a no, for me, unless you specifically wants your audience not to understand what's being said and create a sense of isolation and of not knowing what's going on. A sentence here and there with a translation is fine. But if it's something long... You want the reader to understand well. Italicized text it is.

19. First fandom you wrote for? I wouldn't call it a fandom, but: Greek Mythology. I drew a parody comic of the Iliad in my first high school year, alongside friends. It had been so fun. I also wrote, still in high school, something heavily inspired by Eragon, which only my friends had the pleasure of reading. (I'm only saying it involved my now most hated trope: THE SECRET TWIN.)

20. Favorite fic you've written? The next one.

I'm very invested in Ashes and Sparks, aka the Dreadwolf AU. I'm putting ideas in it and going fully canon divergent and writing it as I would like Inquisition to have gone. No Corypheus, more crazy tevinters, and the focus ON FUCKING TIME TRAVEL.

In a modern setting because yes.

It's also tackling something I absolutely hate in fiction when it's done wrongly, which is time travel, and I'm sweating and hoping I'll do it with logic. It's something niche and not so focused on a single ship, so probably it'll interest only me, but I'm happily writing and trying to contain myself from posting chapters of more than 10k.

Blank Form Under the Cut

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

5. Do you respond to comments?

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

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

8. Do you get hate on fics?

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

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

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

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

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

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

16. What are your writing strengths?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

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

19. First fandom you wrote for?

20. Favorite fic you've written?

#fanfic writer questions #tagged petrel #fanfiction #ao3 #writing petrel #mel you're rude to force me to say nice things about myself #buuuuuuh! *gives biscuits*

[suspendingtime]

20 Questions for Fic Writers!

I've been tagged by @stars-of-kyber and @andthebubbles. 😁 So although I feel barely qualified, I guess I best do this...

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

7. 🤗

I started about 2 months ago, so... and yes, they're all Kanthony. Initially just started as a way of contributing to Anthony Week 2023, and I didn't even expect that I'd actually do all 7 days.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

13,370.

Currently ranging at 661 to 3,779 per fic. Rookie numbers!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

So far, just my beloved Bridgerton.

But there have been a couple other shows that have tempted me...

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Astride  - 166

Nursery  - 118

Hunt - 105

Yours - 94

Temptation - 88

Having published a handful with various ratings, it's quite interesting to see the kudos, bookmarks (private vs public), and subs ratios! Much to think about.

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

Yes.

Why... I sort of have a need? Idk, when I see a comment it's hard to just leave it hanging there and not to reply. Like irl if someone looked at something I made and verbally commented on it... and I just stared back blankly not saying anything. 😐 This is how it feels to me on the receiving end at least haha. And my replies saying various forms of 'Thank you!' is probably quite repetitive, but hey ho.

Plus comments give you that lil hit of dopamine; from both povs as a writer or reader. Being on the reader side for most of my Ao3 activities I tend to comment on most of fics I read, I can't help it - I must tell you what I loved about it and why, and there's a pleasure in reciprocating that back too. Look, now I've written half an essay on the subject, gaaah. (I've not been on Ao3 as much as I'd like to recently, and because I opened it to scoop out the stats for some of the questions above I can now see that I have some unreads... and the need is happening.)

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

Hmmm *thinking really hard*, I don't think any of them have an ending that is all that angsty. If I had to choose, maybe Temptation?

The pattern I've shown so far in my posted works is that it's gonna be 90% fluff. Though that is liable to change. 😆

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

Probably Nursery?

I'm not sure, cause they've all ended on a pretty optimistic note so far. But that one has Kate and Anthony with a few of their kids, so it's the furthest on the Kanthony HEA timeline.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not yet...

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

Ummm 👀 I may have dabbled in some smut.

What kind... hm, the kind where both people are panting for each other, and end up caving because they literally can't hold their horniness in anymore (this totally explains why I went feral for Bridgerton S2, ha). Another pattern I seem to have is making Anthony a submissive man puddle.

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

Not yet, but I do have some crack ideas I may explore.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of, I very much doubt it.

How often does this happen to people?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No. I'd certainly be all for it if anyone ever wanted to translate any works of mine. 😊

If I was proficient enough to write in other languages, then I would probably try publishing the different versions from the get go.

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

Kinda?

Nothing formal, but there was a lengthy comment thread on Reddit some months ago where myself and another user went back and forth re-writing the script for that stormy library scene 😅 (not so much re-writing what was already there, bar the last few lines, more of a continuation in a universe where Kate hadn't fled).

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

Must I even answer this? Kanthony, c'mon now.

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

There's only 1 work that I have, where I've actually started a chapter 2. And I have all the faith that I will finish it. ✍️🤓

Other potential WIPs, that are currently just posted as one shots, only exist in my head... who knows if they will see the light of day.

16. What are your writing strengths?

This question feels illegal to be asked.

I have no idea, I'm very new to this whole writing thing. At least in terms of fiction, so I'm not sure what I'd consider my strengths to be. I feel like I need some more practice before I can get a real sense of this?

I would say that dialogue usually comes very quickly to me, and it's having to fill in the bits around it that takes more brain muscles. So that might indicate something.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Everything apart from the answer to the question above.

But really I think it's remembering that there is a world outside of the main couple happening, and trying to describe the details there. Also other general 'setting the scene' stuff like clothing, weather etc etc. I usually just want to jump straight in with some random dialogue.

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

On writing it... no thoughts; not done it yet!

If I needed to for some unknown fic reason in the future, I'm sure I'll be apologising profusely in the author notes for trusting Google translate and probably butchering whatever language it is.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Still just the one so far, Bridgerton. 😌

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Hunt 🥺🥹 I was a lot of feels, and just very indulgent tbh.

I also really enjoyed my shortest one, Obedient, which was in 2nd person (hadn't done that before). The writing of that one was just really fun and I idky but I've reread it quite a bit!

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I'm woefully looking at my Ao3 bookmarks (which has grown exponentially since joining Tumblr), full of things that I've not got round to reading yet. So I'm tagging partly based on stuff hanging out on top of that pile: @islemeadow, @ladykettlechips, @hydriotaphia, @eleanor-bradstreet, and the smut aunties @colettebronte & @fayes-fics 😋 (if y'all wanna do it, ofc. I tried to find those who hadn't been tagged/done it yet, sorry if you've actually already done this and I've just not found it).

#20 questions for fic writers #tag game #fanfic writing #fan fiction