#auden update

[peachy-panic]

Two Way Street

Part of Do No Harm. Takes place after this chapter. 

WARNINGS: BBU/BBU-Adjacent, lots of talk around food, references to past noncon, fear of future noncon, trust issues

Sebastian knocks twice, waiting for an affirmative sound on the other side before opening the bedroom door. He nudges it with his hip—a little too hard, accidentally—and has to catch it with his foot before it hits the wall. Somehow, he just manages to keep the two plates balanced in his hands and shoots Jaime a sheepish smile.

“Hey,” he says. “I made breakfast. Um. Well, I guess it’s brunch, now. Sorry about that. Do you like egg sandwiches?”

Jaime looks up at him from where he sits against his bed—on the floor instead of the mattress itself, and Sebastian wonders if he should add another talk about the furniture allowances to his list. One crisis at a time.

“Do you mind if I sit with you for a bit?”

Jaime starts to shake his head, then pinches his eyes shut and clears his throat. “No. I don’t mind.”

He sinks down onto the floor beside him and hands Jaime a plate. Jaime seems to watch him for a cue, waiting until Sebastian has taken his first bite before allowing himself to pick his sandwich up, but at least he doesn’t wait for explicit permission. That’s a small win.

Sebastian allows himself a few seconds of stalling as he chews his first bite. “We don’t have to talk about what happened in the kitchen,” he says once he swallows. “If you want to unpack it, I’m more than happy to listen, but you should know I’m not expecting an explanation out of you. You don’t owe me or anyone else that.”

Jaime takes another small bite, and Sebastian takes some small comfort in watching it happen, seeing at least one of his needs met.

“That said, I do feel like I owe you some words. First of all, I’m not upset with you. Not even a little. The glass is cleaned up, brunch is served, you never have to think about it again. Not on my account, anyway.”

They mirror a halfhearted smile at each other, like they both know how unlikely that is.

“Second,” Sebastian says, and then takes a deep breath because he wants this to come out right. “I’m not really picky when it comes to food. Or coffee. Especially coffee. Oat milk and sugar if it’s there, but you could also probably put raw coffee beans in a cup of room temperature water and I’d drink it in a pinch.”

This earns a slow blink, which… yeah, fair. Sebastian keeps talking.

“I usually keep the breakfast staples around the house—eggs, bread, cereal, milk—and you really can’t go wrong with most combinations derived from that, but most of the time, especially during the work week, I end up running out of time for anything more than a granola bar on the way out the door.”

He pauses long enough to swallow another bite of his sandwich and give Jaime time to process.

“So now you know what I like. And what about you?”

Jaime freezes with his sandwich halfway to his mouth. A glob of melted cheese splashes down onto his plate. “About me?”

Sebastian nods. “I understand that it might make you feel more comfortable to have something productive to do. To help out.” He leans into the comfort of Ezra’s words on the phone, trusting them to be true. Feeling useful is going to be the one safety net he has at first. You shouldn’t take that away from him completely, even with the best of intentions.

“So,” he continues. “If you happen to wake up before me, like today, and feeling productive for you means making something in the kitchen, I’m not going to be mad if you pour me an extra cup. But that comes with a few caveats.”

That seems to be the part Jaime was expecting. His shoulders stiffen slightly and he looks directly into Sebastian’s eyes, signaling that he is listening.

“One,” Sebastian ticks off on his fingers, “is that you try your best to remember that this is not an obligation you have to fulfill. There’s no pressure. That’s the most important. Two, if you’re making something for me, I want it to be because you’re already making something for yourself. If I’m enjoying the fruits of your labor, so are you. And three is that I am allowed to make things for you sometimes, too. Or that we make things together. I think this should be a two way street.”

Jaime nods, holding his gaze for a few more seconds before dropping it to the sandwich in his lap. His thin fingers tear off a corner of the bread, popping it into his mouth. Sebastian tries not to watch his expression too intently as Jaime chews. Finally, he swallows and opens his mouth, closes it briefly, then opens it again.

“I like milk and sugar?” he says quietly. “I’ve never tried oat milk, but I’d probably like it. I’m not picky about food either. I like… this.” He gestures to his half-eaten sandwich. “This is good.”

A smile pulls at Sebastian’s mouth. “Thank you,” he says, and he means it for more than the compliment. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

-- -- --

Jaime can tell the conversation isn’t over, and he can read the tension in Sebastian’s posture that makes his own muscles coil in anticipation.

“There is one more thing I wanted to run by you,” Sebastian says finally. “And, to preface, this doesn’t need to be anything immediate. Just something that might be good for both of us going forward.”

Jaime nods, because he can see Sebastian is waiting for his response to go on.

“I have… a friend,” Sebastian says. “I don’t want to say too much right away, because it isn’t my story to tell. But he’d like to meet you, when you’re ready, and I think it would be a good idea, too.”

And Jaime feels something in his stomach go tight and cold. He pulls a slow, deep breath in through his nose, fighting to keep his eyes steady on Sebastian and reminding himself, over and over, that Sebastian isn’t Mr. Torley. He isn’t him. But Jaime can suddenly smell his friend’s cologne so clearly, can feel the cold bathroom tile under his bare feet and under his knees, and remembers exactly what it feels like to be introduced to a Keeper’s friend.

“He’s a really nice guy,” Sebastian continues, apparently unaware of Jaime’s budding panic. “I promise, I wouldn’t let him anywhere near you if I didn’t believe that completely. He actually… Well, he knows Aria—From the clinic, remember? That’s how I met him.”

A really nice guy. Jaime had met a lot of those. He thought Thomas was a really nice guy for the first couple hours of knowing him. He thought Bryan was a nice guy. The occasional facility worker. The man from the bar.

Nice guys wait until no one is looking. Nice guys press your back against the bathroom door and tell you, “I hope he doesn’t treat you too badly,” and “I wouldn’t want to get you into any trouble,” and “you have to know what you look like.”

Jaime must not be concealing his panic very well anymore, because there is a familiar crease growing between Sebastian’s brows that means he is watching Jaime like he might fall apart at any moment. Again.

“Like I said,” Sebastian reiterates quickly, “it’s not anything pressing. I know… I mean, I can only imagine how difficult it must be to settle into a new place like this. We probably shouldn’t even talk about this seriously for a couple weeks at least. One thing at a time, okay?”

Jaime swallows and forces himself to smile back at him, even though the half-sandwich in his stomach has turned to stone.

“Okay.”

-- -- --

The evening finds them on the living room couch—the couch this time, and not the floor, which Sebastian counts as a small win. A laugh track for some show Sebastian had seen reruns of a hundred times drones in the background, but he gets the feeling neither one of them are paying attention.

They had spent the day performing a carefully choreographed dance of staying out of each other’s way in the most polite way possible. Fun as that was, Sebastian knows it’s not a sustainable way to play this contract out. He’s mentally exhausted and knows that it’s only a fraction of what Jaime must be feeling, but he’s trying to cut himself some slack. It’s only the first full day, he reminds himself. They have six months of room to improve from here.

Sebastian goes back to work tomorrow. He hopes it’s not selfish of him to think a little breathing room might benefit both of them. As difficult a time Jaime is having getting settled in the house, Sebastian’s hovering is almost definitely making it worse.

The sound of a stomach growling breaks through his haze of stress-thoughts. Sebastian puts a hand to his stomach on instinct before realizing the noise didn’t come from him. He casts a look at a sheepish Jaime, who is clutching both arms over his stomach with reddening cheeks.

He casts a glance at the clock and feels a surge of unhelpful guilt. He had lost track of time in his own stress.

“I don’t know about you,” he says, trying for nonchalance as he stretches up into a yawn, “but I am starving. Think you could eat?”

Jaime hesitates, then nods.

An idea occurs to Sebastian, and he latches on with both hands. “Wanna try that cooking together thing we talked about earlier?”

This seems to be something Jaime can latch onto as well, much to Sebastian’s relief. He sits up, some of the hesitance draining from his expression. For a moment, Sebastian thinks about offering him a hand up from the couch, then thinks better of it and keeps his hands at his side. He smiles instead, and it feels a little easier on his face this time.

“Come on,” he says, and leads them into the kitchen.

It’s a bit of an awkward dance, at first. Sebastian is coming to accept that that’s just the way things will probably be for a while, and he has to be okay with that. Ezra was right though; the tension seemed to lessen between them when they both had something to do with their hands.

“Sorry if the ingredients are a little sparse,” Sebastian says as he cuts up a raw chicken breast. Jaime is across the island counter, dicing an onion with expertly quick hands. “I stocked up on the essentials before you came, but I thought it might be a good idea for us to make a grocery list together.”

Jaime sections off a fresh pile of onion and swipes the papery outer layer into the trash bin. “I can help you make a list,” he affirms.

“Cool. Maybe we can do that over dinner.”

They—well, mostly Sebastian with a few terse nods of input from Jaime—decided on pasta. It’s fast and easy and difficult to fuck up in any significant way. There is leftover pizza from the night before in the fridge, but Sebastian already promised himself he wouldn’t subject Jaime to the diet of a sad bachelor just because that’s what he’s used to himself.

Although, it’s worth noting that Sebastian has done better for himself recently. And he has Jaime to thank for that.

“You want to know something?” he says, turning to the sink to wash the chicken juice off his hands. “I was never much of a cook until recently. I never really had a reason to be. Cooking full meals for one feels kind of depressing. It wasn’t until we started having lunch together in the clinic that I even felt the need to keep groceries stocked in the kitchen.”

The sink is positioned so that Sebastian is angled slightly away, so he only catches a glimpse of Jaime’s reaction. There’s a half-second pause in the movement of his knife before he continues seamlessly. In the reflection of the window in front of him, Sebastian can almost convince himself he sees a small smile.

His eyes land on his phone when he reaches for the hand towel. The mention of their time in the clinic together sparks a memory.

“Do you mind if I put on some music?” he asks. “I like to have something to listen to while I work.”

He remembers peering through the office door to find Jaime’s finger tapping along with the beat of some song playing from Sebastian’s cheap speakers. He remembers thinking it was the first time he’d ever seen Jaime look content.

“Any requests?” Sebastian asks as he thumbs through his playlists.

Jaime’s knife pauses again, just for a second. “I liked what you used to play in your office. At the clinic,” he says before resuming his work. “But I’m fine with whatever you like.”

He tries to match Jaime’s casual tone when he says, “Cool,” but he can barely contain his elation at finally getting something right.

Sebastian hits play on his favorite chore playlist and lets the music soften the space between them.

There is less pressure to fill the silence when there isn’t any. Sebastian takes advantage of that for a while and lets the two of them work in tandem without speaking more than what is necessary to pass the next ingredient. He sneaks a few looks in Jaime’s direction and doesn’t think he’s imagining the way the tension seems to lessen in his shoulders as the minutes go on.

When it’s time to combine the ingredients for the sauce, Jaime takes the helm at the stove almost instinctively. He seems content to be there, so Sebastian doesn’t argue. Instead, he backs himself against the adjacent counter and hoists himself onto it. “You’re a natural,” he observes, watching Jaime fold the vegetables into the simmering pan of chicken.

Jaime flashes a quick look in his direction, not quite meeting his eyes. “I like cooking.”

“Yeah?”

He shrugs, then nods.

“Well. You’re good at it.” Sebastian stops, hesitates, then decides to take a chance. “Anything else you like to do?”

The wooden spoon never stops moving against the bottom of the pan, but there is a slight shift in Jaime’s posture that makes Sebastian regret shattering the fragile moment. He wants to take it back, but before he can, Jaime speaks up, soft and tentative.

“I like to run,” he says. “I used to like to run.”

Sebastian takes that in, along with the desperate longing in his voice. He wonders when the last time was that Jaime got to run freely.

“Well,” Sebastian says, leaning forward. “I can honestly say I’ve never related to something less in my life. But this is a pretty quiet street and it probably wouldn't kill me to invest in my cardiovascular health every once in a while, so if you ever want a buddy to go running with…”

He trails off when the full intensity of Jaime’s big, brown eyes turn on him.

“What?” Sebastian asks, immediately worried he has said something wrong.

Jaime takes a minute to study his face, then swallows. “You would let me run?”

Don’t react. Don’t fucking react, because breaking down into tears as the raw, earnest hope in his expression isn’t going to help anyone.

“Sure,” Sebastian says, though a little bit of the vowel gets lost in his throat.

“And you would… come with me?”

Sebastian shrugs. “If you wanted me to, yeah. Though I make no promises you won’t have to fireman-carry me back when I pass out from exhaustion.”

That wide-open gaze lingers on him for a little while longer before Jaime blinks and turns back to the task at hand. 

“Thank you,” he says quietly.

They let the music claim the room once again. The next time Sebastian glances his way, Jaime’s finger is tapping against the spoon.

--

TAG LIST: @whumpervescence @shiningstarofwinter @distinctlywhumpthing @whumptywhumpdump @nicolepascaline @anotherbluntpencil @hold-him-down @crystalquartzwhump @maracujatangerine @batfacedliar-yetagain @thecyrulik @van-whumps @finder-of-rings @melancholy-in-the-morning @insaneinthepaingame @skyhawkwolf @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @mylifeisonthebookshelf @dont-touch-my-soup @whump-world @inpainandsuffering @cicatrix-energy @quietly-by-myself @whumpsday @extemporary-whump @the-whumpers-grimm @thebirdsofgay @firewheeesky @whumperfully @hold-back-on-the-comfort @termsnconditions-apply @cyborg0109

#do no harm: jaime & sebastian #whump #whump writing #whumplr #bbu #like bbu adjacent? #two chapters in two days???? #she's on a roll folks #should i update auden next #i tend to leave him feeling left out

[musingsbycaitlin]

HEY! Writeblr Intro!!!

Hi, my name is Caitlin, and I’m a third year Creative Writing student in rainy England. I’ve got a couple WIPs but none are set in stone so you’ll have to bear with me for a while haha.

- I’m here for a good time so my writing is solely based on my mood and vibe at the time, please do not expect consistency.

- I write short stories mainly but am trying to branch out into novels so you’ll hopefully be seeing a bit more of that in the future.

- I am a university student with anxiety and decision fatigue so things change drastically around here every so often but I promise if I go quiet I will come back.

Let’s get into the WIPs (these will be constantly edited and changing) and feel free to ask me any questions about any of them, even ones that might have been removed from this list if you’re interested.

IF I GIVE UP, SO MUST YOU - a Wild West literary fiction novel

STATUS: currently drafting (on hiatus)

GENRE: literary fiction, sapphic romance(?)

CURRENT WORD COUNT: 3,995

Okay, so a bit of info about this project. I started writing it a bit ago purely because I wanted to write a Wild West novel and then it turned sapphic and then it became literary. It follows an unnamed narrator as she navigates life outside of her small town after she is targeted by bandits in a raid. A coming of age novel that explores what it means to figure things out for yourself whilst battling with false truths engrained into your from a young age.

NIGHT SWIMMING (working title) - a short story collection

STATUS: literally haven’t even started :/

GENRE: literary, horror, surrealist

This collection is my version of NaNoWriMo this year because there is no way I can feasibly write a novel in a month where I also have to write my dissertation first draft and three other short stories like no. I’m hoping to do an update on my page whenever a story is complete, so I will also update this section to include the names of all the stories going in. Stay posted is all I’m saying ;). All I know is I want it to explore the everyday in a surrealist way (as most of my stories do).

DAMAGED GOODS - a dystopian sci-fi novel

STATUS: currently drafting (on hiatus)

GENRE: dystopian, sci-if, speculative

CURRENT WORD COUNT: 2,323

So, I haven’t done an intro post to this yet simply because I had to put it to one side once university started again. A brief summary is this: Auden, an average guy, husband, and father, has gotten into a dreadful car accident. In this society, however, surgery is replaced with metal transplantation. Due to Auden’s extensive injuries, he now must live in suburbia with a completely metal head, arm, and leg.

I’m super happy with this concept and the initial 2,000 words I’ve got I’m pretty okay with. The main issue is where to take it and if it will be a full novel or more of a novella.

EAT YOUR YOUNG - a gothic horror novella

STATUS: currently drafting

GENRE: gothic horror

CURRENT WORD COUNT: 4,950

I haven’t done an intro for this project because I honestly wasn’t sure I’d return to it but the spooky season is upon us and I really want to get back into writing this. Brief Summary: Mr Gerard is an accountant hired by the Heron Manor estate to deal with the affairs of the three sisters residing there after a mysterious death of the man of the house.

This is going to me my main personal priority other than my short stories for now and I’ll try to get an intro out soon.

Okay, so that’s all for me folks. Like I said, any questions please feel free to send me an ask or a message, don’t be a stranger. As a writer I always wanna talk about my projects, OCs, and anything else writing craft related!

I’m tagging some mutuals, if you wish to be tagged or removed :( - let me know x

@annlillyjose @dallonwrites @aesa @winterandwords @iannicellis @isherwoodj

#writeblr #my writing #writeblr intro #wip #short fiction #lit fic

[mixedstyles]

To Navigation ⇨

As Long as You Are, after Harry comes across a reaction video, an unexpected friendship begins (and possibly something more).

Last Updated: November 21, 2022

Main Storyline

Part 1 - Harry watches fan reactions to Harry’s House

Part 2 - Harry makes contact with Y/N

Part 3 - A day in the life of Y/N (featuring Harry)

↳ Part 3.5 - Auden and Y/N read Harry’s thoughtful message about her music. (aka Harry being a fanboy)

Part 4 - Y/N’s concert (featuring a special someone)

Part 5 - Studio conversations. (aka Late Night Talking)

Social Media Posts

Post 1 - a week (or two) in the life of Y/N via instagram. preferably read after Part 2

Post 2 - fan sightings meant to be read with Part 4 and 5 but can be read on its own

Post 3 - Harry and Y/N annoying each other via Instagram

Blurbs

Blurb 1 - Harry getting “jealous” because y/n is talking to Mitch more

Blurb 2 - Harry being oblivious to his feelings

Blurb 3(ish) - Harry being a lil jealous and also simping over y/n

Blurbs answered via asks - (a redirect to the tag ‘alaya ask blurbs’ which will bring you to the small blurbs not linked here)

#alaya!timeline #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles headcanon #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles x you #harry styles x oc #harry x y/n #harry styles x famous!reader #fanfic masterlist #harry styles masterlist #harry styles x y/n

[iambutmortal]

Watch Me Burn

Chapter 3

Summary: Lucien Vanserra, Godkiller and disgraced prince, is more than content on his own. He doesn't need his family, or his wife, or his former friend. Hasn't needed them in years. But when villages start being attacked by a force he thought he'd destroyed years ago, he's forced back into their company to retrieve the mysterious firebird and save his kingdom from ruin.

Pairing: Elucien

Word Count: 2.1k

Read on AO3 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Authors Note: Remember when I said daily ish updates and then didn't update for four days. Well clearly I shouldn't be trusted with deadlines. And as always, for the amazing @labellefleur-sauvage for the @acotargiftexchange

Present

“Hello, wife.”

“Look who finally decided to show up,” Elain said, rising slowly to her feet. Her dress was cut low, showing off the swell of her breasts. In spite of himself, Lucien felt his gaze drawn there, before he tore it away to focus on Elain’s smirking face.

Oh she definitely knew where he was looking.

“So town reeve,” Lucien said, clearing his throat. He shifted slightly to hide the evidence of the blood flowing to his cock. “That’s new.”

Elain tossed a silky, golden curl over her shoulder. “You took so long I had some time to persuade Kouemos of my leadership skills.”

“With your tongue or your magic?” Lucien taunted.

Elain stalked towards him, placed one hand on his chest and shoved. “I don’t need magic to get people to love me.”

Lucien’s chest burned where she touched him, and he caught her hand up in his, holding it safely away from him. “No, only to keep them around.”

Elain looked like she wanted to spit on him. She wrenched her hand out of his grasp. “I didn’t summon you here so you could insult me.”

“What happened to the old Lord, Elain?” Lucien asked, not one to be distracted. “What was his name, Nolan?”

“Nolan’s been dead for years,” Elain said. “A unicorn rode through town and his heart gave out from shock.” She snorted. “Spent fifty years building walls to keep magic away, and it was his fear that took him out.”

“Lord Graysen then, what of him?”

Elain stiffened. “Joined his father in the ground a few months ago. Not long after I showed up.” She tilted her chin up, daring him to challenge her.

“Attagirl,” Lucien said, leaning closer until his mouth was practically pressed against her neck. He loosened his grip on his sword, letting it drop to the ground.  “The knife work I showed you pay off?”

“No,” Elain growled. “I don’t need your help.”

“Except now,” Lucien smirked, sliding past her and plopping on the bed. He propped his boots up onto the white bedspread, just to watch her nostrils flair in irritation as he smeared mud on it. “Finally come across a problem you can’t solve by growing plants?”

Elain walked towards the bed and slapped him. Lucien laughed, his cheek stinging. Elain looked ready to hit him again, but before she could, Lucien wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into his lap.

Elain’s long legs bracketed his thighs, and she surged forward to kiss him, biting down hard on his lower lip. The taste of blood hit Lucien’s tongue and he groaned, reaching down to drag Elain’s pink dress up around her hips.

At the same time, Elain grabbed his belt buckle, working it open and pulling out his now fully hard cock. Elain ran her fingers over it, and Lucien bucked his hips up into her hand.

Elain pulled away from the kiss long enough to give him a smug smile, before sinking down onto his length.

“Fuck,” Lucien groaned. 

Elain ground her hips against his and Lucien gasped.

“Something wrong, your highness?” she asked, eyes wide with mock ignorance. Like she wasn’t deliberately driving him out of his rutting mind.

“You know I hate that term,” Lucien growled, gripping her hips tight enough to bruise.

Elain gave him another rough kiss, a clash of tongues and teeth. “Not when I say it.”

Lucien grunted in response. 

In the five years since he’d left Auden, they’d run into each other on occasion. An occupational hazard. And every time, they ended up in each other’s beds, coupling for a few rough bouts of love making. They were both under no illusion their marriage meant they had some special claim on the other, but it did confer some benefits when they ended up in the same spot.

Or, at least, Lucien assumed they had on such claim of loyalty. He may have no interest in women outside of Elain, no matter how often opportunity presented itself, but he’d long decided he was happier not knowing if she felt the same way. And he’d resolved not to tell Elain about his own duty to his marriage vows. Better to keep some things private.

Above him, Elain’s full lips parted as she sucked in air. Her breasts swayed with each rock of her hips, and Lucien reached a hand up to grab the neckline of her dress, yanking it down. It tore easily under his touch, and Lucien half wondered if that wasn’t intentional. Some quirk of the fabric Elain had chosen to exploit.

Lucien took one erect nipple between his teeth, nipping at it lightly, and Elain practically screamed. 

“Something the matter, your highness?” Lucien asked, releasing her breast with one final, hard tug.

Elain scowled and reached a hand between them to finger her clit. “Only that I have to do everything myself.”

Lucien grabbed her wrist, and pulled her arm away from where their bodies joined. “How quickly you forget, princess.”

“Forget what?” Elain asked, batting her brown eyes. In response, Lucien thrust his hips up, making sure to hit that spot deep inside her he knew had her falling apart in seconds. Sure enough, Elain’s eyes rolled back as she groaned, her core clenching around him.

“Do I need to remind you again?”

Elain hesitated and Lucien tugged up on her wrist, pulling her body taunt.

“Do I?”

“Please,” Elain whined, and Lucien slowly dragged his hips down before slamming them back up. Elain’s breath hitched, they way it always did before she fell apart completely, and Lucien winked as he found that spot a third time. Elain broke apart around him, her cunt squeezing his length, sending release barreling down his own spine.

A few quick, short strokes worked them both through their climaxes. Lucien dropped Elain’s hand, checking her wrist for any signs of bruising. 

“I’m fine,” she said, pulling it away.

Lucien sighed, letting her go. He wrapped an arm gently around her waist, pleased when she didn’t immediately remove it. “Why did you call me here, Elain?”

“The Wild Hunt is back.”

Lucien sat upright so fast Elain had to brace herself against his chest to keep from falling off his lap. “Fuck.”

Elain grinned ruefully, fingering the fabric of his shirt. “Turns out we didn’t take care of it as well as we thought last time.”

“Fuck,” Lucien repeated. “Are you sure?”

“The signs are all there–people going missing, livestock slaughtered, churches burned. And it’s all happening along the borders.”

“Fuck.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t heard about it,” Elain said, rising off him and brushing down her skirt. “I thought it would be something talked about in your network.

Lucien reached down to close his pants back up. “I’ve been avoiding the border.”

“I figured,” Elain said, pulling one of countless leather clad tomes off her bookshelf. “But the attacks have been spreading out over the past couple months, going deeper and deeper into Auden.” She opened the book, letting it fall open to a specific page, and turned around to show it to him.

Lucien looked at the rough sketch of a bird engulfed in flame and quirked his brow. “The firebird? That’s a myth.”

“I thought so too,” Elain said. “Until one of Eris’ soldiers went up Mount Vasilisa and came down raving about the whole mountain top being on fire.

“So Eris thinks this firebird can stop the Hunt?” Lucien chose not to ask why Elain knew so much about what his brother’s troops were up to.

Elain pointed to a line in the book. “The firebird can break any bonds that tie. Including the ones that tie the Wild Hunt to the earth.”

“And Eris decided to send us to go get it,” Lucien supplied.

“Preferably before the meeting of the King.” The meeting once every ten years where the monarchs of the continent’s kingdoms got together and pretended they didn’t want to kill each other. This time Eris had been chosen to host, and Lucien had been planning to be far, far away from Auben by then.

“That’s in a fortnight,” Lucien protested. “It takes half that time just to get to the mountain.”

“Then it’s a good thing Eris picked the town below it to host the meeting,” Elain chirped.

“Eris just thought of everything, didn't he.” Lucien bent down to retrieve his sword from where he’d dropped it. “Next time you see my brother, tell him to ask me in person if he wants me to do his dirty work.”

Elain crossed her arms, pushing up her still exposed chest. “So you’re not coming then? You’re just going to leave?”

“What do you care?”

Elain took a step between him and the door, blocking him in. “Is Auden not my country now? Am I not its princess?”

“If you consider yourself that,” Lucien conceded. “Although how far you’d get being married to the cast out seventh son Godkiller…”

“Who’s still the brother of a King. And the son of another. And both their land is being destroyed right now.” Elain raised her chin, somehow managing to look down at him despite being nearly a head shorter.

Lucien glared at her for a long moment before sagging in defeat. “Tell Eris there’d better be a large sack of gold waiting for me when we get to the bottom of this mountain.”

Elain’s triumphant grin was practically fox-like. “I’ll make sure to tell him his brother’s sense of familial duty remains just as profit motivated as ever. Now give me your shirt, since you ruined my dress.”

Lucien tugged off the sweat soaked linen and offered it to her. She pulled it on, and opened the door.

Jurian, his ear pressed against the wood, nearly fell on the floor.

“It’s you,” Lucien said, voice utterly impassive. 

“I told you to stay away,” Elain hissed.

Jurian scrambled to right himself, squaring his broad shoulders and pasting a broad grin on his face. “Good to see you again too, Lucien. It’s been, what, five years?”

Lucien nodded once in recognition. “Been keeping yourself busy?” He asked more out of politeness than any genuine interest. He couldn’t find it in him to care, not about Jurian.

“Oh I’ve been around,” Jurian said, waving his hand. “Playing in taverns, working my way through all the finest cities.”

“Bursting the eardrums of everyone in this castle with your music,” Elain muttered, and Lucien chuckled in spite of himself.

“What was that?” Jurian asked, pretending not to hear.

“Elain gave him a pretty smile, one that made Lucien’s heart pull a bit. Why did Jurian get to see them but not him. “Oh, nothing.”

“Good,” Jurian said, giving Elain an equally simpering look. “Because I’ve so been enjoying your hospitality for these past weeks, and I’d hate for anything to taint that.”

Lucien’s brow shot up. Weeks?

“Turns out me and Jurian can get along when we have certain common interests to motivate us,” Elain said sweetly, reading Lucien’s expression.

“Great,” Lucien mumbled. He eyed Jurian, looking for any indication those common interests included something of the more carnal nature. Jurian winked at him, but knowing Jurian that could mean any number of things. “And do those common interests extend to Mount Vasilisa?”

“Yes,” Jurian said, at the same time Elain said, “no.”

“For the last time, you’re not coming,” Elain snapped.

“I think you’ll find my particular talents very helpful,” Jurian said, gesturing to the lute strapped across his back.

“Sure, if we need to scare someone off,” Elain shot back. “They’ll run away with their ears bleeding.”

“Useful when we need to take care of the firebird’s guards,” Jurian said.

Elain turned to Lucien. “Tell him no.”

Lucien eyed the bard, taking in the fine tunic, and hands with a few more calluses than one would expect from a musician.

“He can come,” Lucien said.

Elain huffed and stormed past Jurian, down towards where Lucien knew the castle stalls were. Jurian made to follow her, but Lucien grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close.

“If you do anything during this to put us in danger, if you breathe a word of this, I’ll flay you alive and string your guts from the nearest church steeple.”

“What about your wife,” Jurian protested. “Not worried she’ll stab us all in the back again?”

Lucien tightened his grip. “I’ll worry about her. You worry about yourself. Got it?”

He could see Jurian swallow. “Got it.”

#elucien #elucien fanfiction #acotar #acotar fanfiction #elain x lucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra

[juleskelleybooks]

A Touch of Magic

“Stay,” Gabe whispered against the corner of El’s mouth. “Stay all night.” He kissed him softly, a punctuation. “Wake up with me tomorrow.” Another little semicolon kiss. “Marry me.” ~ A TOUCH OF MAGIC - Jules Kelley

Set in the (fictional) small town of Auden, Connecticut, A Touch of Magic finds El Myrrick feeling as if he's finally starting to stabilize. He's got a job he loves, managing Nelumbo, the boutique spa at a local hotel, and he's finally found a place of his own and moved out of his mother's house with his daughter, Rowan.

So when the owner of the hotel announces that he's selling it, El's whole world flips upside down. It doesn't help that the representative of one of the top bidders, Gabriel Quinn, is one hundred percent his type -- and also seems to like El.

Gabe is the son of the owners of Quinn Properties, and he's come to oversee this bid personally. Expanding their hospitality empire into more niche and boutique properties is Gabe's pet project, and one his mother doubts the wisdom of, so he's deeply invested in the sale going well. He's especially interested in the spa and its tattooed manager, whose massages seem to work miracles for Gabe's chronic pain, and who goes out of his way to make sure Gabe has access to needed accommodations during the series of negotiation meetings.

There's already a spark between them, but when Gabe wakes up one morning feeling like he's going to go up in flames if El doesn't touch him right now, he worries something might be really, terribly wrong with him -- especially when El starts doing everything in his power not to be alone with him.

El's magic is rusty; he hasn't worked a spell in over eight years, but if he can't reverse the love spell Rowan cast on Gabe to try to save El's job, he'll never know whether he can trust what's between them.

moodboard and expanded summary requested by @seluvian

A Touch of Magic is a work in progress and has a projected publication date of [ERROR - unknown time frame]

follow @juleskelleybooks for updates or check out juleskelleybooks.com for other works by the author

#jules kelley #writeblr #novel: a touch of magic

[twiggyart6]

when you're just trying to update the hair of your oc but your style has changed so it looks more like a full redesign. this is Auden btw he is a little guy <3 I really like how is ears look in the new drawing but I still don't know ab the hair :/

#art #digital art #drawing #character art #charecter design #oc #oc art #original character #Auden #my art #my ocs

[mothiacomic]

MOTHIA UPDATE:

Hey Everyone! Admin Auden here,

The creation of Mothia was unfortunately put on hiatus due to a lack of motivation and just being in an art block in general. I am sorry for not actively working on the webcomic. But: GOOD NEWS! I'm starting to work on it again! I'm going to try and release Mothia before Christmas. I will be working my very hardest to release Part 1 of this webcomic! Please stay tuned for more updates in the future!

#mothia #webcomic #webtoon #comics #mothia webcomic #sketch #comic update

[earltea-art]

So completely on accident @unseeleigh and I made complementary PCs and we started shipping them, and me being who I am lol, made their sort of future, if the survive Barovia. (Even if they don't they are still alive in our minds)

Cor's boyfriend is Auden Deleo

(yes we are a little obsessed with them)

I may or may not update when I finish the rest of the background but.... don't hold your breath

#earlarts #dnd ocs #dnd characters #ocs #corauden #yes that's their ship name

[antlerhymnals]

an introduction—

hi! I'm auden! this post will be updated as I get more comfy using/navigating writeblr, but here we are

about me—

disabled + chronically ill

SFF/horror writer

(basically an "I'll try anything spec-fic once but somehow I keep ending up writing fantasy" writer)

tag-game-friendly

about my work—

TBBWIP ↠

tag— wip:tbb

dark contemp fantasy hamlet-relling-ish-thing

revising!/querying!

TWGWIP ↠

tag—wip:twg

dark ??? fantasy novel

plotting

OODWIP ↠

tag—wip:ood

intro post

dark "what if a d&d-style cleric worshipped the wrong god" fantasy novella

brainstorming

short work ↠

gender envy

the end is near

the end is near pt. ii

pop.

#writeblr #writeblr intro #introduction #writing blog

[xprojectrpg]

This Day in X-Project - January 11

PHASE 2

2016: Clarice posts a W.H. Auden poem in honour of David Bowie’s passing. Warren makes good on his offer of a tropical vacation to Bobbi. Warren lets the X-Factor people know he’s going to be away, and to earn money in the meantime. Xavin thanks people for their birthday gifts for the day before. Artie and Topaz meet up for a sign language lesson.

2017: Warren offers to splurge money on ridiculous ideas. Rogue sends a text to Logan complaining about school. Kyle informs Wade that the Golden Girls is now available on Hulu. Artie and Tyrone hang out in the kitchen. Clea complains about homework. Megan shares an update regarding her Wing Warmers design.

2018: Maya wants confirmation that she saw an animated Porg in the library, leading to talk about the ethics of animating toys for others. Rogue is shocked that no-one focused on the fact the government revealed aliens might exist.

2019: Maya is watching Ghost and thinks Patrick Swayze is hot. Hope invites Betsy and Topaz to a small gala event as her guests.

2020:

2021:

2022:

2023: Case File: The Underbelly Project: Terry emails a mass update about the Underground.

#this day in xproject #plots #plot #xprpg #xproject #rpg #rp #phase 2

[dragonmuse]

can we get some jim and read one on one bonding time?

(you can! This took a turn on me. Very small mention of blood.)

“Okay,” Jim unbuckled their seatbelt and cracked the window. They were probably going to be here for an hour at least, waiting to bust the lady, who couldn’t seem to stay away from her lover. Every day shit. “Hit me.” 

“Uh, I don’t have one ready, hold on.” Read undid her seatbelt too and drew her book out of her messenger bag. 

There were a few quiet minutes while she flipped through the book. Since she’d restarted college, Jim had occasionally asked for updates. It was all very casual, polite interest, except for the way they kept asking, teasing out details. Lately, they’d been mostly curious about the poetry class Read was taking to fill a requirement.  

When you were stuck in a car with someone for hours at a time, it was good to have things to concentrate on. There were only so many conversations you could have about what was observable and how cranky your boss was that day. Especially when your conversation partner saw sentences longer than three or four words as ostentatious. 

So Read had taken to reading poetry to Jim, in a turn she could never have predicted. And Jim seemed to enjoy it, even going so far as to encourage it. 

“Okay...this one was from last week,” Read took a sip of water. She didn’t read particularly fluidly, but doing these with Jim had helped some with that. They came a little easier now. “Let the More Loving One be Me  by W.H. Auden 

“Looking up at the stars, I know quite well

That, for all they care, I can go to hell,

But on earth indifference is the least

We have to dread from man or beast.

How should we like it were stars to burn

With a passion for us we could not return?

If equal affection cannot be,

Let the more loving one be me.

Admirer as I think I am

Of stars that do not give a damn,

I cannot, now I see them, say

I missed one terribly all day.

Were all stars to disappear or die,

I should learn to look at an empty sky

And feel its total dark sublime,

Though this might take me a little time.”

“Huh,” Jim frowned. “Can you read it again?” 

Read obliged, trying to parse it as she went through it again herself. 

“What do you think?” She asked into the silence that followed. 

Jim picked at one of their nails for a second, then nodded, “Feels right.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Loving something, it’s better if you care more about them than they do about you.” 

“You really think so?” Read frowned. “I dunno. Sounds painful, really.” 

“Nah. Loving something is easy. It’s the loving back, all the stuff that comes in the middle of it that’s hard.” 

“Huh,” Read looked over the words again. “It feels awful though. Having a crush or something and it’s not returned. Hasn’t that ever happened to you?” 

Jim shrugged, then conceded with a nod. “Not great. But being on the other side of that? Blech. Rather pine than be pined after.” 

“I guess,” Read made a face. “Better not to be either.” 

“Point is kind of that it doesn’t matter. Like he’s saying if the stars disappear, then he’d be fine with that too eventually.” 

“When Anne left for those weeks, it felt like someone gutted me,” Read closed the book.

“Sure, but you would’ve been okay. Even if she never came back.” 

Read wavered, “You think?” 

“Yeah. You gotta figure out how to live with yourself. Only person you have your whole life,” Jim said firmly.  

“Pretty good advice.” 

“Just true.” 

“You and Oluwande...” 

“Love him,” Jim had a faint smile. “Be a worse life without him. But I’d still live. I’d still love.” 

Read tucked the book back into the bag. 

“I always thought poetry was about how great love is, but I guess it can be about a lot of things.” 

“Yesterday upon the stair.,” Jim said softly, “ I met a man who wasn’t there. He wasn’t there again today. Oh how I wish he’d go away.” 

“Oh creepy, what’s that from?” 

“Don’t know. My brother taught it to me,” Jim looked away. “Think about that all the time.” 

Read got out her phone, “Uhh...let’s see. Antigonish by William Huges Mearns. Wow, that’s really creepy.” 

“First poem I knew.” 

“I can’t remember one. But yeah, that would stick,” she agreed. “So just about a ghost, you think?” 

“Lots of things you can feel that aren’t there.” 

“Oh wow, that’s ominous, thanks. You think so?” 

Jim glanced at her then away. “Yeah. World is complicated.” 

“We never talked about it.” 

“About what?” Jim picked at their nail again, the cuticles were a mess. It always reassured Read that Jim had this small habit, a chink in their seamless armor. 

“The hotel.” 

“Because Lucius said not to.” 

“His word isn’t law. And I think he meant not to ask him about it. Didn’t he?” 

Jim peeled away a fleck of skin. A tiny dot of blood welled up and they grabbed up a napkin, pressing it to the spot.  

“Did you want to talk about it?” 

The waves of the pool still woke Read up in the middle of the night sometimes. She could not longer be sure what she’d seen in them, but she knew whatever had been in the depths wanted her, longed for her. 

Maybe she had been the stars that night. 

“No. I guess not.” 

Jim nodded, “Me either.” 

They sat in silence for a long time, watching the street for their errant mark. 

“The thing is,” Read said eventually, “I worry that I’ll forget entirely.” 

“Would that be bad?” 

“What if forgetting means it could happen again?” 

Jim crumbled the napkin, squashing it down so it disappeared into their palm.  They had no answer.

The client showed up a few minutes later and they became busy with taking pictures and texting Izzy updates. Their conversation went easy again as work distracted them, then business of deciding on lunch. 

Read pushed it all aside again. She’d try again another time. Or maybe not.

#leda house and the kraken verse #ficlet #jim jimenez #mary read

[hiddenpxpercuts]

Since the event is tomorrow, here is an updated list. If I am missing someone, let me know! If you wanna add to it, go for it lol.

Alexander Lightwood (Unwilling, Open to Death, No memory change) Isabelle (drvcxrys), Rafael (devilsmenu), 

Richie Tozier(Unwilling, Open to Death, No memory change) Peter (mischiefxmuses ), 

Tyler Kennedy “TK” Strand(Unwilling, No Death, No memory change) Pildo (devilsmenu), 

Evan “Buck” Buckley (Unwilling, Open to Death, No memory change) Kono (devilsmenu), Eddie (grcycosmcs)

Marco Del Rossi (Willing, Open to Death, Open To Changing Memory Status.)

Harry Hook (Unwilling, Open to Death, No memory change) Jane (drvcxrys), Uma (youllalwaysbemyporcelain), Cj (youllalwaysbemyporcelain), Mal (wvsteria), 

Thelonious Jagger "TJ" Kippen ( Unwilling, Open to Death, No Memory Change.)

Maxine “Max” Mayfield (Unwilling, No Death, No Memory Change) Henry  (mischiefxmuses ), 

Klaus Hargreeves (Willing, Open to Death, Open to Changing Memory Status.) Diego (papcrrings), 

Derek Hale (Unwilling, Open to Death, Open to Change in Memory Status) Lydia (spellbcok), Isaac (papcrrings), 

Lily Tucker-Pritchett (Unwilling, Not Open to Death, No Memory Change) Auden (youllalwaysbemyporcelain), 

Ambrose Spellman (Willing, Open to Death, Open To Memory Change)

Mazikeen Smith (Willing, Open to Death, Open to Memory Change) Mazikeen (spellbcok), Patch (youllalwaysbemyporcelain), 

Enid Sinclair (Willing, Open to Death, Open to Memory Change) Euntak (spellbcok), Wednesday (drvcxrys), Faith (youllalwaysbemyporcelain), Louise (wvsteria), 

Victor Salazar (Willing, Open to Death, Open to Memory Change)

Quincy ‘Q’ Shabazian (Willing, Not Open to Death, No Memory Change)

Michael Munroe (Willing, Open to Death, Open to Memory Change) Chris (devilsmenu), Beth (wvsteria), 

Bob Belcher (Unwilling, Not open to Death, No Memory Change) Lorelai (spellbcok), Louise (wvsteria), 

Eponine Thenardier (Willing, Open to Death, Open to Memory Change) Glinda (irresistiibles)

Jim Hopper (Willing, Open to Death, Open to Memory Change) Jamie (devilsmenu), Snow (grcycosmcs)

Mercutio Alice (Willing, Open to Death, Open to Memory Change)

Lillian Deville (Willing, Open to Death, Not Open to Memory Change) Fliss (papcrrings), 

Chishiya Shuntaro (Willing, Open to Death, Not Open to Memory Change) Heiya (devilsmenu), 

Gabriel Boutin (Willing, Open to Death, Not Open to Memory Change)

Heather Chandler (Willing, Open to Death, Open to Memory Change)

Maria Vasquez (Unwilling, Not Open to Death, Not Open to Memory Change) Tony (devilsmenu), 

Chad Meeks-Martin (Willing, Open to Death, Open to Memory Change) Tinkerbell (spellbcok), Sam (drvcxrys), Noah (devilsmenu), Tara (wvsteria), 

Ginny Weasley (Willing, Open to Death, Open to Memory Change) Sabrina (spellbcok), Harry (wvsteria), Bill (bcrncoldx), Marlene (mcrcki), 

Blaine Anderson (Unwilling, Open to Death, Open to Memory Change)

Katherine Pierce (Unwilling, Not Open to Death, Not Open to Memory Change) Josie (wvsteria), Stefan (papcrrings), 

Simon Spier (Unwilling, Not Open to Death, Not Open to Memory Change) Bram (youllalwaysbemyporcelain)

Nick Nelson (Unwilling, Open to Death, Open to Memory Change) Astoria (devilsmenu), 

Emily Fitch (Unwilling, Not Open to Death, Not Open to Memory Change)

Dean Winchester (Unwilling, Not Open to Death, Not Open to Memory Change) Tiana (spellbcok), 

Matthew Murdock (Unwilling, Not Open to Death, Not Open to Memory Change) Felicia (devilsmenu), Peter (wvsteria), 

Maxine Baker (Unwilling, Open to Death, Open to Memory Change)

Jude Adams Foster (Unwilling, Open to Death, Not Open to Memory Change)

Ken (Unwilling, Open to Death, Open to Memory Change)

Gamora (Unwilling, Not Open to Death, Not Open to Memory Change)

Maeve Wiley (Unwilling, Open to Death, Open to Memory Change) Nora (spellbcok), James (bcrncoldx), Toph (irresistiibles) 

Miles Hollingsworth III (Unwilling, Not Open to Death, Not Open to Memory Change)

Raphael Santiago (Unwilling, Not Open to Death, Not Open to Memory Change) Kyle (devilsmenu), Simon (papcrrings), 

Reggie Peters (Unwilling, Open to Death, Open to Memory Change) Jihyo (devilsmenu), Willie (grcycosmcs)

Glenn Rhee (Unwilling, Not Open to Death, Not Open to Memory Change)

Peggy Schuyler (Unwilling,Open to Death, Open to Memory Change) Angelica (papcrrings), 

Mickey Milkovich (Unwilling, Not Open to Death, Not Open to Memory Change)

Carl Grimes (Unwilling, Not Open to Death, Not Open to Memory Change) Judith (wvsteria), 

Victoria Spring (Unwilling, Not Open to Death, Not Open to Memory Change) Alison (devilsmenu), 

Carl Gallagher (Unwilling, Open to Death, Open to Memory Change)

Ryan Evans (Unwilling, Open to Death, Open to Memory Change)

Sebastian Matthew Smith (Unwilling, Open to Death, Open to Memory Change)

Jake Wheeler (Unwilling, Not Open to Death, Not Open to Memory Change)

Gregoria Grfyinndor (Unwilling, Not Open to Death, Not Open to Memory Change) Slyvie (youllalwaysbemyporcelain), Godric (wvsteria), Salazar (papcrrings), Rowena (mcrcki),

#hw: starter call #hw16 starter calls

[unintelligible-screaming]

Hi, I’ve recently fully backslid into Homestuck and I’m reading your fic “in what distant deeps or skies” and it’s insanely well-written in terms of the way you construct sentences to be as gutting as possible (but also having lots of parts where I have literally laughed out loud). I also love the thoughtful complex characterization and plotting (better than a lot of novels I’ve read lately). I also have really liked the poem suggestions/info used in the titles and the music recommendations you were writing to that you mention in the notes sections. Do you have anymore music or poem recs? Especially music for writing to (I’m working on a sci-fi book right now).

i'm so glad you liked it!!! in case you're wondering why i stopped updating it, it's because i realized that if i spent more of my time writing original fiction, i could at some point make money. and now my tax returns are way more complicated than they used to be!

ANYWAYS. i hope your sci fi book goes well! i spent a while writing one of my own; my agent says it's very strong on a technical level but isn't commercially viable in the current market, so now i'm working on a multiple-pov fantasy novel that will hopefully be a little more commercial. here's what i listened to while writing the sci fi novel:

re: poem recs, here are a few that make my brain feel like pop rocks. these are all pretty famous so i'm sure many people have read them before, but, hey, they're famous because they're good.

i've definitely seen homestuck fics with a line from "fern hill" as their title. can't remember which ones but i feel like that's true

#anyways thank u ! #unintelligible scribbling

[crepuscura]

maddie's masterlist of original works

last updated: December 6th, 2022

a note from the author: hi! most, if not all of these works are whump or hurt/comfort. inherently, this means they are dark fics. i will put warnings before each fic and tag each one with the possibly triggering things they contain to help you avoid reading something that makes you, specifically, uncomfortable.

i'm not going to police your online experience. i am not your caretaker. if you ignore this warning, that is your fault and i genuinely do not care what that outcome entails for you.

my ao3 is polkmydot — feel free to go peruse my stories at your leisure <3

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

it was going to be a long night || ao3

“So, this is how it ends,” Rowan thought to herself. She nearly chuckled, hunching over and pressing the palms of her hands to her eyes, “At least hypothermia is more forgiving than the blade of a knife.”

consider your verbage || ao3

“Have you learned your lesson yet, pet?” Agrona asked; Auden could hear the smile in her voice.

He steeled himself to respond with snark, determined not to let her see just how weak he truly felt, when the heavy wooden doors sealing Auden in what he felt would be his tomb cracked open, hitting the gothic stone walls with a thud.

That was when the color fully drained from Auden’s face.

sweet dreams || ao3

Losing control of his temper, Auden gnashed his teeth at Kedron, throwing his weight forward in a last-ditch effort to save himself. Kedron easily caught his jaw in his hand, pressing his thumb and forefinger tightly into the hollows of Auden’s cheeks, holding his mouth open.

“Now, say ‘ah!’” Kedron taunted, and shoved the dripping rag into Auden’s waiting mouth.

we've got work to do || ao3

“Stay– stay away– from me,” she uttered through heaving breaths. She could feel her skin starting to tingle, a funny numbness twinkling at her fingertips.

“I just want to help you,” the girl said again, taking another step towards Nell.

“I said– no!” Nell shouted, picking up her pillow and tossing it at the encroacher.

“Why don’t you let me handle this one, dollface?” a different voice crooned. Or at least, Nell thought it was a different voice. It also kind of still sounded like the girl in front of her. Shit, was she already going insane?

to the tempo of her screams || ao3

“What do I have to do to get you to let me go?” Twyla asked, still wary of Merodach, but ultimately tired and desperate to leave.

He paused, relaxing his stance and tapping his chin in a show of contemplation. After a moment, he dropped his arm, clasping his hands together behind him and leaning forward toward when Twyla was shackled to the wall. A sinister smile peeked out from underneath his thick mustache, “All you need to do is rediscover who you truly are."

that stupid maze || ao3

Slade swore to himself, dropping his head, trying to rack his brain for any other ideas on how to get out. And that’s when he saw it.

Resting innocuously beneath one of the hedge walls was Zach’s favorite baseball cap. The dork almost never took that thing off. Slade bent down and picked it up, tuning it over in his hands, wondering why the hell Zach would leave it behind.

perhaps tomorrow you'll be more lively || ao3

“Are you angry, my sweet?” Damia’s low, mollifying voice murmured. There was no malice, only curiosity.

Rowan shook her head ‘no’ once as another tear slipped out.

“Oh, my dear, none of that now,” she soothed, wiping the fresh trail away. “It just shows you how much I love having you at my fingertips.”

pour me my usual? || ao3

“Go? Go where?” Sadie asked, not caring about the looks she was getting this time. She had a bad feeling about this.

Sadie pushed away from the bar and stood up from the stool she was on. A look of surprise washed over her face. She hadn’t told her body to do that. Her body was doing that on its own.

“Oh, thank Lucifer, finally,” Narkissa moaned in ecstasy, “I was worried I’d never get control of your stupid little body.”

growing increasingly restless in your absence || ao3

“I just don’t get it,” she muttered, crossing her arms across her chest, frowning.

Auden would ask what she meant if— well, there wasn’t a rag stuffed in his mouth. Instead, he opted to raise a questioning eyebrow at her.

At that moment, the door slowly creaked open, and in an exasperated tone, the woman demanded, “What is it, Titus?”

it's not up to you || ao3

With a wry smile, Auden shook his head, “What am I going to do with you?”

“I guess you’ll just have to stay and figure that out,” Heath teased, waggling his eyebrows.

Auden’s smile stayed, but his eyes darkened. He took hold of both of Heath’s wrists and tugged them up over his head, pressing them into the pillow near the slatted headboard.

“I guess I will,” Auden murmured, licking his lips as he let go of Heath’s arms, giving him a warning look not to move, and Heath obeyed.

the tip of a blade || ao3

Damia licked her lips before slowly trailing her tongue up the length of Nell’s neck, causing Nell to shiver violently again, nearly losing her balance completely. A deep chuckle emanated from Damia’s throat.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

search specifically by whumpee mention:

Rowan Hartley

Heath Darwin

Auden

Nell Sutton

Sadie Schultz

Twyla Tate

search specifically by whumper mention:

Damia

Agrona Astor

Miles Kedron

Narkissa

Merodach Barlowe

#original writing #original fiction #original characters #ocs #whump #hurt/comfort #hurt no comfort #dark fic #masterlist #maddie writes

[peachy-panic]

Hello! Thanks so much for writing so much content for Tumblr, it's super awesome that folks like you give us web-surfers so much to enjoy. I've essentially binged all three series from your writing masterlist, and I'm IN LOVE! It was an absolute whirlwind of a weekend and the time bled away as I enjoyed them all. Seriously, hours would pass and I would just be so swept up in the story I couldn't even tell the time it took!

I don't want to sound pushy, so to be clear, I am not in any way asking for more content. That said, I would like to know where you are on each of these respective content collections so I know what to expect moving forward - are you still writing for each? Accepting asks?

Thanks again, and I look forward to anything else you might write in the future!

I cannot overstate this enough: it warms my heart like no other whenever someone tells me they spent time binging one of my stories, so the fact that you spent this weekend getting lost in three of them?? Best feeling.

Tysm for reading ❤️

To your questions—

1. I do take asks, for sure! I make no promises about when I will get around to them, but I love receiving them and love the way they can sometimes inspire me to write more if I’m in a funk.

2. And yes, all 3 of my stories are still active (I’ll admit “active” is a generous term for Auden’s story, but he’s still alive and kicking)

I’ve been less active the past couple months due to work, life, other writing blah blah blah, but just last week I updated both Do No Harm and Fifty-Eight Days! So the chapters may be sporadic, but trust that these characters still live rent free in my brain 24/7.

Thank you again for your nice words :,)

[princeliamb]

headcanons, horse ownership & riding.

aside from the many horses that are owned by the royal family, liam owns three horses that are entirely his own and weren't bought to be shared by his parents or siblings (though, they are obviously allowed to ride them as well). they are all thoroughbred polo horses and liam has given them short names all starting with the letter a because he likes the simplicity and that there's a theme. auden is the oldest, a 10-year old chestnut gelding, with one left back sock. auden is liam's second horse, but currently his 'first' as liam doesn't own his first horse anymore. affirm is the second, a 6-year old chestnut mare with a large stripe on the face and two pasterns on her front legs. she's the horse that liam rides on for the polo match in season 2. allure is liam's latest horse, a 4-year old dark bay stallion, with small star and two long stockings on back legs, 'rescued' from the racing sports. liam rides regularly for the polo sport or for hacks/pleasure riding. he prefers riding casually, but he does enjoy the adrenaline of polo. going for a pleasure ride is one of his healthier ways of coping with the stress of his family and being overlooked by his parents. he does some horse care himself when he can, though his schedule is often busy. when he does not have time for his horses, there are experts at the royal stables that keep the horses well looked after and in good shape. liam is updated on who has ridden the horses, in order to plan out proper resting time for them and make sure they aren't ridden more than they should be.

#( headcanons ) #he will probably get more #because i love giving him more horses sdfkjhg