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chococolte · 4 days

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Your sagau zhongli is my fave! Devotion is soooo good he's so good!! If he were offered a reward, what would he ask for? He definitely deserves good things for being such a dedicated worshipper

word count. 1.6k

୨୧ — ꒰ cw. yandere, unhealthy relationships, possessive & obsessive thoughts/behaviors, sagau + cult au shit, religious themes, g/n reader.

୨୧ — ꒰ a/n. hi guys......... sorry i took so long to write this, and im so happy you like my characterization of him!!!! it means so much to me!!!

Your praise.

Zhongli has rarely ever wanted.

When he was young, still arrogant and born of war, Zhongli didn't want— he took. He had no need of envy or desire. What he could not have, he would get in time. Immortality comes with an infinite patience.

If he was still that god, flippant and self-important, maybe he would demand some sort of compensation. Some sort of recompense for past agony.

For as long as Zhongli's lived, he has never wanted; not in the way a mortal yearns for their lover, or the way a dog longs for its owner until it whines. Never in any way that mattered, never before he met you.

Zhongli has had eons to become used to the loneliness that so often encompasses him. And now, knowing that you breathe the same air as him, he's become rather acquainted with the ever consuming desire to nestle close to you, like ink caressing every pore of canvas.

His desire runs through him— barking and loud, rapid and frantic— but when faced with you, a whisper, whimpering in the dark crevices of his ribs. At times, he comes close to asking you to hold him, but decorum and propriety keep him in place, tight and tense.

Liyue was built knowing your gaze followed him. Its foundations set, earth molded, and its rivers bent, hoping they would be fit to your liking. His every breath spent chasing after your favor, desiring to be remade in your image, to be exactly what you want him to be. Afraid that, when finally met with you, you will not like what you see.

Zhongli has rarely ever wanted, and rarer still, has he ever feared.

It's a mortal's fear. The fear of their lord displeased with their harvest. A boyish fear, made up of desperation and the fear of disapproval; one he shouldn't feel, one he should feel no familiarity with. One he suspects many have felt when within his own presence.

When you ask him what he would like in return for all of his efforts— a reward, you say— Zhongli feels his breath seized from him.

Zhongli lived much of his early life against you. At every opportunity, he rebelled at what he thought was a cruel god. Imperious and charged with Guizhong’s death, he would have demanded answers.

For him to have lived while those he cared for perished without a moment's repose, for him to have survived every moment of cruel war when each breath was like a whip against his lungs— he deserved to know, if you were as real as Guizhong so staunchly believed, why he had lived in her place.

Yet, despite centuries of tempered rage, Zhongli has become content to live as nothing more than your servant.

He tells you he wants for nothing. That all he desires now is the simplicity of being beside you; the escape of your laughter, where there's no need to concern himself with anything other than you. He tells you he only wishes to know how to take care of you better, how to align himself with your tastes and desires.

"I insist," you say, and Zhongli realizes it's a command. His mouth turns dry, and every word settles on his tongue like heavy weights, dead and still.

You stare, and his breath hitches, his heart a swell in his chest. Zhongli thinks of every answer, how your reaction to any could either breathe life into him, or leave him broken. How, for a moment, he amuses himself with the idea of asking for your touch— the cusp of your palm on his cheek, your fingers against his spine; how he could ask, and how you might favor him enough to do so.

He then thinks of asking you for reassurance. For affirmation of forgiveness for the actions in his youth. To finally have the certainty that he hasn’t failed you, and maybe, the confirmation that you may care for him.

“Forgive me for my impropriety, Your Grace,” Zhongli begins, voice light and breathy. His hand rests on his chest, fighting the urge to dig into his skin, hoping to calm the pounding of his heart. “But… if I may, I was wondering if I had done right by you?”

You sit inertly in silence for a moment, and Zhongli wonders if it’s on purpose, some sort of punishment for daring to ask such a thing. You had no reason to reward him, and he had been blessed enough to hold your attention for longer than a moment. He had no right to ask for your thoughts, not so directly.

He thought he knew that. It was why he followed you, why he made sure your every request was completed to the highest standard. If you mentioned the taste of your tea being too bitter, or sweet, or that you’d rather he prepare something else for you entirely, he would rush to follow your word. Even if he had been the one to brew it, even if it was him who cultivated the leaves, even if he thought it would be to your liking.

All he needed was to be helpful. All he needed was you. Within you, was his salvation— within you, was love itself. Without you, the once great Lord of Geo was but a fragmented elemental wisp of energy, only ever calling your name.

A spike of adrenaline rushes through him, fear and anxiety denying any sense of hope. All he hears is the solitary sound of his heart in his ears.

“You have only ever done good by me.”

Zhongli’s heart lurches, heat rippling through his body. You say it like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and his mind feels dizzy at the implication. The ground sways, and his feet feel light.

“You deserve more than that, I think.” You step forward, and Zhongli is so lost within his own thoughts, he takes no notice of your sudden increase in proximity— but his breath still quickens, and red still coats the apples of his cheeks.

“Kneel,” you whisper, and though you say it so softly, it's as though the sky had been torn asunder with the speed he responds. Zhongli’s mind still feels far away, but he hears your orders as if spoken directly into his ear.

He drops to his knees, no care for whether he does so elegantly enough. All he can focus on is the weight of your gaze, and the way he's the only thing under it.

“Do you want me to praise you?” You trace his jawline with your finger, still speaking in a soft, unhurried tone. “Do you want me to tell you how much of a good boy you are?”

Zhongli inhales sharply, fighting every thought that screams at him to eagerly lean into your hand. He stares up at you, russet lashes fluttering and amber eyes swallowed by adoration and worship.

“Yes, Your Grace,” he whispers hoarsely.

Your thumb swipes over his lower lip, and a whine rises to the back of his throat.

“My good boy.” Zhongli’s entire body shudders, his chest heaving. A shaky breath escapes him. “You've been waiting to hear that for so long, haven't you?”

He whimpers, then nods in a way he hopes doesn’t come across as overeager— quickly bereft of any sense of propriety, or care for whether or not he’s making a fool of himself. All he can concern himself with is how close you are, how easily your scent renders him still, how quickly he borders on senseless.

You smile at that, and he bites his tongue to stop himself from whimpering.

“Do you want me to tell you how grateful I am?” Your fingers move across his neck, brushing against his Adam’s Apple, watching it bob as he gulps, trying to keep himself steady and not fall against you. “How you're my favorite?”

An ugly sound rips from Zhongli’s throat, and it's one he's instantly ashamed of. Every part of him feels bare in front of you, laid out messy and without decorum. The mask he’s worn for eons steadily breaks, and every one of his veins and bones scream out for your warmth.

The Lord of Geo wouldn’t have ever allowed himself to be so vulnerable. He never would have amused himself with the thought of pleading for anything, or kneeling and falling apart because he was treated softly— least of all, of being so desperate to know that you love him; that you favor him.

Zhongli, now without his Gnosis, is as mortal as the men he used to lord over. And perhaps it’s his newfound mortality that moves him to lean into your hand, frantically trying to meld your fingers against his skin until his flesh is like clay inlaid with your fingertips; hoping that you’ll rebuild him until he fits your desires, and tell him again that he’s proven to have done good by you.

Every thought is a prayer, another hymn, another psalm.

“Am I? Your favorite?”

His voice trembles, and breathes into a soft whisper. Zhongli doesn’t mean to sound so desperate— he doesn’t mean to be so greedy— but his soul has never felt so full before. His mind is so mired by your touch and voice that he doesn’t realize his lack of formality, or how he might come across as arrogant.

He wants only to think of you, and so he does. Nothing else matters.

“Yes.” You chuckle, and his heart speeds up at the sound, fervent. “Why would I want anyone else?”

Zhongli whines, and faintly, through the blur of fanaticism and worship, thinks that no matter what you asked of him, he would do it without hesitation.

#[🦇] — my writing #genshin impact #yandere genshin #genshin x reader #sagau #cult au #sagau zhongli #yandere zhongli #cult au zhongli #yandere zhongli x reader #yandere male #yandere male x reader #male yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere #self aware genshin au #self aware genshin #gender neutral reader

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heich0e · 8 months

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THE WITCH'S SONG - part one knight!osamu/witch!reader tags: fem!reader, royalty!au, supernatural!au, witchcraft, enemies to lovers, mentions of violence/illness/death, persecution and oppression, tw blood, please read the tags on each chapter as updated and minors do not interact. crossposted to ao3 MASTERLIST

The night air is sweet.

It’s still early summer, where the days are warm and bright before giving way to cool evenings, and the smell spring unfurled with its budding leaves continues to linger long after the sun sets. The aroma is fresh and green, not yet turned to the heady fragrance of singed grass and warmed earth which will slowly seep in as the days grow longer and the sun ever-brighter overhead.

There’s something captivating about this time of year; not quite the lush, blooming spring, nor the scorching, unforgiving summer, but a deliriously pleasant in-between that keeps the best of both.

On a tall hill, overlooking the rocky coast and a quiet village in the distance, sits a small stone cottage. Ivy crawls along the rows of uneven bricks that give the home its shape, having long settled and slanted in the time since it was built, each vine curling in long stems around four-pane windows and up towards the thatched roof.

In front of the house sits a garden, full of every plant anyone could possibly desire to find in the given climate; vegetables, fruits and unusual herbs abound. The rich earth that surrounds the cottage is fertile and generous—with a careful hand to till and tend it, there’s little it can't sprout. The gardens are still not quite at their peak for the season, the plants low to the ground but flourishing as they patiently wait for a few more sun-filled days to truly blossom into their prime.

Along the western side of the property, nearest to the towering forest’s edge, sits a greenhouse connected to a shabby little shed that greatly resembles the cottage in its quaint, unassuming construction. It’s there, in the dead of this cool summer night, that you—the owner of the cottage—toil.

Your fingers hold a glass vial over a small open flame atop the work station with a set of silver pincers. Your keen, well-trained eyes watch attentively as the fire licks up along the edges of the glass, heating the contents within. A breeze, northeasterly with a faint taste of salt air that creeps in with the nearby waves, whisks through the room and a shiver accompanies it in turn.

A soft sigh slips through your parted lips and your eyes, previously fixed on the tincture held over the flame, lift towards the door.

You aren’t startled when you see him standing there, though you barely contain the sound of annoyance that threatens to leave you; the momentary glance is the only acknowledgement you make to his (notably unwelcome) appearance as his figure darkens your doorway. You return your gaze to the solution you’re in the midst of preparing—a careful balance of valerian, mugwort, and poppy heads for a woman in the nearby village who has been unable to sleep restfully since the untimely death of her husband.

“Good evenin’,” he says to you once he realizes that you will not be the first to speak. He punctuates the greeting with a light clearing of his throat.

“Is it?” you reply, removing the slender vial from the flame and swirling its contents. You closely examine the colour and viscosity of the liquid, returning it to the heat for a few moments more after some consideration.

“Sorry to show up unannounced,” the young man’s own tone is rather tight and clipped as he speaks the words–obviously equally unhappy with the turn of events that had led him to your cottage this evening, though resolute to maintain some level of decorum.

“And yet,”—you finally look up at him, meeting his gaze with a firm and unwavering stare that you have up until this point denied him—“here you are.”

Finally satisfied with the tincture, you set about pressing a stopper into the tube. You reach over and pluck up a burning taper from the candleholder resting nearby on your worktop, tipping it forward over the still blisteringly-hot glass to seal the cork. A rivulet of molten wax runs from the candlestick in a slow drizzle, and you carefully turn the thin vial to coat the border where glass and cork marry evenly. A piece of blue ribbon is then carefully wound around the warm wax before it has fully hardened, sealing the small vessel shut.

The man watches silently as you slip the vial into a velvet pouch, tying the strings together tightly to draw it closed, and then you tuck the pouch safely away in the pocket of your flowing skirt—out of sight from where your visitor stands in the doorway to the greenhouse. Your eyes scan over the bench for a moment before you extinguish the oil burner you’d been using, turning the small knob at the base until the flame shrinks down to nothingness.

“I wouldn’t’ve come if it weren’t important,” the young man’s tone has softened slightly into something closer to a mumble, weary from his journey and seemingly in grave need of something he could only seek from you. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days, with grim shadows under his eyes and a pallor to his skin that doesn’t suit him.

“Now that I do believe,” you remark, almost drolly, picking up your oil lamp and crossing the room towards where he stands. He stiffens a little as you approach, as though bracing himself against a threat, but you merely slip soundlessly past him, stepping out into the dark night.

Behind you, the man sighs.

He follows.

The two of you cross the yard, a few paces separating you throughout the silent trek, with the lamp you hold in hand the only light to lead the way. You tread carefully through the well-tended garden, careful but familiar motions deciding where each foot falls, and you sense without turning that he’s following your path as you move towards the stone cottage on the other side of the property—ensuring his own steps follow your footprints precisely. There are candles burning inside your cottage up ahead, their warm glow visible through the windows, and smoke curls steadily from the chimney and into the brisk night air. The smoke is perfumed with herbs, and the scent only grows stronger the nearer you get to your home.

You wonder if he notices.

“That’s far enough.”

You pause in your stride as you reach the stout stone wall that circles your cottage in a knee-high ring, resting with your feet together at the place where a gate might be were there any need for it. Behind you, the man falters to his own stop, surprised by your sudden halt and your sharp words.

“I need yer help,” he sounds confused, and frustrated—impatience creeping into his tone again. There’s a sharpness to it, like he’s forced each word out from between clenched teeth. You don’t look back to verify your suspicion.

Another cold wind blows from the direction of the sea, and the budding leaves of the garden’s plants around you rustle as it passes, whispering amongst themselves as they spectate your exchange.

“I care very little for what you need, Miya Osamu,”—you glance at him over your shoulder, and see the way the distant light from your windows dances in his eyes—“and it will be a cold day in hell before I help a royal knight.”

The garden seems to still in the wake of your low-spoken words, the breeze dying out like the temporary peace ahead of a storm’s rage.

Before you, Osamu’s eyes have hardened. The lines of his sharp jaw set underneath his skin.

“Ya know me.”

“I know of you,” you correct him flatly. “Fortunately, our paths have never crossed.”

Until now.

Osamu’s nostrils flare, then he swallows.

“How?” he asks, his voice low and deceptively even.

“One of the king’s most trusted knights tearing through the outskirts of the kingdom in search of a healer is news powerful enough to reach even my ears, Miya.” Your lamplight dims slightly as you hold it aloft in your hand, the flame beneath the glass slowly shrinking. The oil is burning low. “I knew it was only a matter of time before you got desperate and I got unlucky.”

He flinches, his lashes fluttering slightly like he’s fighting back a more violent reaction. Like he’s accepting a blow he could easily return but chooses not to. The knight's gaze casts down to his feet as his fingers curl into fists at his sides.

“My brother's ill,” he says quietly, his voice heavy with an anxiety that rolls off of him in waves. “My twin.”

“Atsumu,” you specify, since he did not. His gaze snaps up to meet yours, and there’s a spark of something new behind it. Something more volatile. He looks angry that you’ve taken it upon yourself to speak his brother’s name.

“I know what you are,” he says slowly, wielding his next words like a blade and aiming to kill.

“Oh?” You tilt your head to the side in a show of guilelessness.

“Yer a witch,” he continues, overlooking your feigned ignorance.

“There are no witches in this kingdom,” you reply. “The crown you’ve sworn your life to saw to that.”

“Our king h—“

“Your king,” you interrupt him. The unexpected interjection seems to shock him, and his shoulders square indignantly.

“Yer also a subject of this kingdom,” he counters, and your distaste is made perfectly evident in your responding sneer.

“I’m governed by no monarch, and certainly by no man.”

Osamu’s hands are still held in tightly-clenched fists at his side, the lines of his body as clear an indicator as any to his palpable anger. “You’d admit to treason before a knight?”

“You’ve already accused me of witchcraft,” you spit, your teeth gnashing together as you force the words out. “What’s another crime to be burned for?”

You know all too well the end that awaits a woman accused of such a crime.

It’s the fate your mother met before your very eyes, after all.

Seconds stretch between you in the garden—sticky, and uncomfortable, and polluted with the animosity you feel for each other. It takes root in distrust and blossoms into something ugly, like a weed.

Osamu takes a breath, letting his head hang forward. His shoulders slump.

“An old man two towns west from here told me a young woman in this cottage once cured his ailing wife in her final hours, and she lived a decade more. That she was brought back from the brink of death thanks to the woman’s care.” He looks up at you again, and his stare is insistent. Beseeching.

You know the man he speaks of, and his gentle, lovely wife. It was half a century ago now since you’d first met them, and you’ve heard the old man has gone a bit senile in his old age. You doubt he meant you any harm in his revelation, regardless of the trouble it’s come to cause.

“I’m nothing but a humble herbalist.” Your hand sweeps out in gesture to your garden, but the man before you is unmoved.

“Who’s been a young woman for fifty years.”

Even the distant sea seems to have stilled as the tension intensifies between you, the waves falling silent to make room for the hostility that spreads with every passing moment.

Osamu swallows. “They say witches have powerful healin’ abilities. That you can make potions that’ll revive a man half-dead.”

“It’s folklore,” you reply dismissively.

“It’s fact,” Osamu snaps. "I know it is."

“And what else do you claim to know of these so-called witches?” you deride, and you don’t miss the way his eyes seem to quickly trace you.

He squares his shoulders, then he meets your gaze. “They say ya maintain yer beauty and youth by devourin’ the hearts of good men.”

“Is that so?” you muse, though you seek no sincere elaboration. You look to your left, east towards the sea, and then sweep your gaze across the expanse of your garden to the right. You meet his dark eyes again after surveying your surroundings. “Well, I see no good men nearby, so I believe you should be safe.”

In the dim light, you swear you see something throb at the corner of his tense jaw.

“There’s not a healer in the royal court who’s been able to cure my brother,” Osamu’s voice breaks, taking a step towards you. “I’ve come here unarmed, and mean no harm to ya.”

Your upper lip curls at the lie and his proximity, baring your teeth.

No man has ever once approached a witch with pure intentions.

The seek only their beauty, their power, or their beating, bloody hearts.

Your mother’s screams ring suddenly through your ears, piercing and agonized. The memory makes gooseflesh raise along your skin. Makes the back of your tongue taste sour. You squeeze your eyes shut as though to quell it, but this only seems to trap the sound in the recesses on your brain. They grow louder, and harder to forget.

You see your mother on a wooden stage constructed in the town square before a crowd of horrified spectators, the gnarled boards underfoot already stained in scarlet.

The white linen shift they’d forced her to wear, and the way the thin material flowed away from her frame in the breeze.

The glittering hilt of the jewelled knife that carved out her heart, with the sigil of the king etched into its blade.

The crackling flames that consumed her as she wailed.

A witch can live without her heart, you see, so long as it’s kept close to her. Your mother wasn’t spared a second of the misery of being burned alive. She was granted no mercy in the final terrifying moments of her life.

You open your eyes and the dark sky above you seems to hang closer overhead, as though it’s more suffocatingly near than it was before. The garden around you suddenly feels colder.

Osamu’s eyes widen, like he feels it too.

Your dying lamp burns out.

“Leave this place,” you say to him, low and warning. Your voice rings clear in the unearthly still night. “And if you value your life, never come back here again.”

#osamu x reader #miya osamu x reader #osamu miya x reader #hq fic #hq writing #writing #tws

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wnderkoo · 7 months

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♡ BUILT FOR LOVE - TEASER 2!

It's been years since Jungkook left to pursue his dream of being a volleyball star, and while you couldn't be happier for him, you missed that love in your life. Years after your breakup, just when you finally think you might be okay without him, he comes back. After falling back into old patterns, you realise that Jungkook is a love worth fighting for.

pairing: jungkook x reader genre: second chances au | fluff, angst, smut word count: 18k+ (2.3k for this teaser) tags: volleyball player! jungkook, lovers to strangers to friends to lovers, tba!

read the first teaser here!

teaser 2!

A month goes past of living with Jungkook and in those few odd weeks a genuine friendship had bloomed again between you, and soon enough you're looking forward to coming home and the impromptu movie nights you sometimes have.

You start to notice more and more of his belongings around the apartment, like his toothbrush beside yours in the bathroom, his shoes on top of yours in the pile beside the door, little things that feel so awfully domestic you have to remind yourself not to ruin it by imagining it as something it isn't and never will be.

You don't realise just how used to his presence you are until you come home from a day at the office to an empty apartment, lights off besides the one lamp in the living room hinting at the absence of a certain brown haired man.

His bed is still neatly made, like it was in the morning when you'd woken up to find Jungkook cooking breakfast.

Despite your best efforts to wake up earlier and be a good host and cook breakfast, he always beat you to it, a plate of bacon and eggs always ready for you in the morning.

Toeing off your shoes, you collapsed down onto the couch with an exasperated sigh.

While the last few weeks had been fun and you were glad Jungkook was your friend again, he was just a friend and there was an itch that needed to be scratch and a desire that needed to be satisfied that you couldn't ask of your newly reintroduced friend.

There were times where you'd tried to satiate yourself in the privacy of your bedroom, but it had always felt too dirty to do anything with Jungkook just outside the door.

The thought of being heard was too mortifying for you to get anywhere.

But tonight, in the buzzing atmosphere of a city nightclub, you let your hips sway like no one was watching.

Because tonight, you looked hot.

And tonight, you were going to get laid.

In a maroon red dress that reached your lower thighs, the fabric hugging your curves perfectly, and heels to match, you looked nothing short of ravishing. Your hair was out, flowing over your shoulders in soft curls and making you look angelic under the ambient lights of the club.

"Find anyone yet?"

You turn at the sound of Hari's voice, meeting her kind eyes as she grins at you expectantly.

You'd dragged her out tonight, calling her as soon as you got home and asking if she wanted to have a night out on the town, and ever the party girl, she'd said yes. You made sure to invite Jimin, knowing he'd have your asses if you left him out on a club night, but he had other plans, telling you to have fun without him with a frown and a wink.

"Not yet," you reply, looking out across the club floor.

While you did find eyes on you more than once, entertaining the advances that men made on you throughout the night, you hadn't felt a real spark with anyone and even if you were just looking for a hook up, you had to have at least a little decorum.

It took you a year after things ended with Jungkook to even think about being with anyone else, and even then your relationships never made it past a month or two. There was always something missing, it never seemed to feel 100% right.

So you settled for the temporary high that relationships and hookups gave you, hoping that you'd find that 100% when the stars aligned.

"You'll find someone!" Hari encourages before being whisked away by the guy she'd been gravitating toward the whole night, laughing as the tall blonde led her back out onto the dance floor.

You watch as she disappears into the the crowd and only when she fades against all the other silhouettes do you let your smile drop as you realise you probably weren't going to get laid tonight.

You'd been here for two hours, and there was only so much one could take before their social battery died and all they wanted to do was go home and pass out in the warmth of their blankets.

The two hours of drinks and dancing finally start to affect your depth perception and as you make your way back from the bathroom, the low lighting of the hallway causes you to trip on nothing and stumble forward.

A surprised noise leaves your lips when you crash into a broad chest, your arms come up to stabilise yourself. Whoever's chest you found yourself leaning against was warm and smelled nice. Tropical.

"Yn?"

Your head snaps up, eyes blinking rapidly as they focus on the unexpected face.

"Jungkook?" you ask with a quiet gasp as if your eyes might be playing a trick on you.

"What are you doing here?"

You hadn't seen him at the club at all, though your attention had been focused on what was in front of you, namely the men you were dancing with.

You're too comfortable with the warm weight around your back and the hand holding your arm to steady you, making no move to push him away.

Jungkook just stares down at you for a beat before clearing his throat.

"You called me.." he answers and your brows knit together in confusion.

"What? I never called-"

A rush of heat flames his cheeks as Jungkook watches you reach into the top of your dress, pulling out your phone. Your brows crease as you unlock it, looking at your recent calls and true enough, there was an outgoing call to Jungkook from twenty minutes ago.

"All I could hear was background noise so I wasn't sure if you'd meant to call me.." he says, running guya hand down the back of his neck awkwardly.

"But I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Ugh. Why did he have to be so considerate?

"From what I heard on the phone, I assumed you were at a club and this is the only one I know you've been to so I thought I'd come here first."

You were way too drunk for this.

Too drunk for his kindness and the onslaught of feelings that it brought.

There were at least ten different clubs in this part of the city alone, what if you hadn't been here? Would he have gone to all of them looking for you?

You didn't want to know the answer to that question, because it would just make you love him even more. And you couldn't love him anymore.

"Are you drunk? Do you want me to take you home?"

A gentle hand brushes the hair out of your face as Jungkook takes in your figure. Flushed cheeks and hazy eyes, clinging onto him like you'd fall if you let go.. you were definitely more than a little tipsy.

You can't stop staring at him, hands clutching the fabric of his shirt where they're pressed against his chest. Your fingers twitch with the need to touch his face, brush over the scar on his left cheek, the only imperfection on his otherwise perfect face.

Sure you were drunk, but you could still appreciate beauty.

"Come on," he smiles, moving your hand to his bicep as he walks you back to the main part of the club.

You cling onto him drowsily, coming down from your high and crashing straight into exhaustion.

"I'll be right back, stay here, alright?"

A gentle thumb caresses your cheek and you lean into the touch before it disappears. You manage to nod and watch as Jungkook disappears into the crowd, finding Hari amongst all the moving bodies.

He stands there awkwardly for a moment, waiting for her to turn her attention from the blonde she's dancing with and notice him.

She does a double take when she sees Jungkook standing in front of her, surprised to see him here of all places. Taking in his appearance, he wasn't exactly dressed for the club scene. Black bomber jacket and cargo pants, he looked like he came straight from an illegal car race.

"I'm taking Yn home!" he shouts over the music, melting Hari's confused expression into one of understanding.

Craning her head over the crowd of people, she sees you leaning against a wall by the entrance staring awkwardly down at your feet.

"Thank you!" she shouts back, sincerity in her voice.

Ever since the breakup, she hadn't exactly been his biggest fan.. but for him to come and take you home- which she knew you hadn't planned- Hari could appreciate that Jungkook still cared about you.

"What about Hari?" you ask as Jungkook appears in front of you again and offers his arm.

Even drunk you looked out for your friends.

Jungkook assures you that she had told him she was okay to get home when he had asked. Happy with his answer you let him lead you through the entrance and out the doors of the club.

The cold air sobers you just a little and a shiver wracks through you as the breeze carries through the night, brushing against the bare skin of your arms before it winds down the city streets.

Your hand is suddenly cold, missing the contact when Jungkook shrugs out of his jacket before draping it over your shoulders. Warmth blankets around you and his scent fills your senses, somehow comforting and tormenting at the same time.

You mumble out a thank you before Jungkook takes your hand again, leading you the rest of the way to his car.

"Just a bit longer sweetheart," Jungkook murmurs softly.

Kneeling on the floor beside your bed, he removes your heels one by one and caresses your feet, which he knows would be in pain from all the dancing.

It was a miracle that you hadn't fallen asleep in the half hour it took Jungkook to drive from the club back to your apartment, but it was starting to become a challenge to stay awake when you were perched on top of your soft blankets, and the way Jungkook was massaging your feet only pushed you closer to sleep.

You barely register his words before you're being pulled up onto your feet, which are now in socks.

You grumble out a whine, making a move to fall back into bed before Jungkook stops you by sliding his arm around your waist to keep you upright.

"I need to change you, Yn."

You definitely heard that.

You can't find it in you to protest, too tired and desperate to just pass out on your bed.

You were way past feeling embarrassed at the thought of Jungkook seeing you naked, but the idea of it was still mortifying.

You let out a non-commital sound letting him know it was okay, and Jungkook carefully slides the zipper of your dress down. His fingers graze the sides of your thighs as he drags the fabric down, making you inhale sharply. His touch is like electricity on your skin, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

He helps you step out of the dress and your eyes are too close to shut to see where he goes when he steps away.

You suddenly feel awkward standing in nothing but your underwear, swaying the way that drunk people do.

You ease a fraction when you feel his presence in front of you again. Jungkook helps you into a hoodie and sweats, being incredibly patient as you take your time putting your legs into your pants, gripping onto his shoulders tightly.

After removing your makeup and making you drink an entire glass of water, Jungkook tucks you into bed, fluffing your pillows and bringing the covers up to your chin just how you like them.

When he's sure you'll be okay, he reaches for the switch to your lamp but it's your soft voice calling out to him that makes him freeze.

"I miss this."

He stares down at you, almost thinking he imagined the words when he sees your eyes closed, blinking as he waits for you to continue. He laughs quietly to himself when he realises you probably dozed off.

"Miss what?" he asks quietly.

He stares at the soft features of your face as he waits for a reply.

"This. You taking care of me."

The next seconds are quiet enough that the cracking of his heart can be heard over your gentle breathing. Guilt slams into him, every thing that's been hanging over him for months comes down and crushes him under the weight.

He'd thought you'd moved on, you'd made it seem that way. But he should've known from the first night when you couldn't even stand to be in the same room as him before you were running out of the club into the cold.

He'd blamed it on the alcohol and built up emotions, but Jungkook knew now that there was still a million things that needed to be said.

This was the first time you'd ever brought up the past, always avoiding saying anything that would remind you of another time.

A past where you didn't have to walk on eggshells around each other, afraid of doing or saying something that would cross the line between friends and lovers.

A past where you could bring up inside jokes and they'd just be jokes, not a reminder of what used to be and the people you were.

A past where he didn't need to be afraid of loving you.

He hoped you wouldn't remember this in the morning. He'd already done enough, barging in on your life and being selfish enough to stay here. If you realised how vulnerable you'd been by bringing up the past, you'd be wrecked.

And if meant you could have your peace of mind, he'd hurt enough for the both of you.

Leaning down, Jungkook smooths a hand over your hair before placing a kiss on your forehead.

"Goodnight, Yn."

built for love is sooo close to being published! i can't believe it omg im so excited to get this out to you guys, lmk if you want to be added to the taglist!

🏷️: @tarahardcore @kissyfacekoo @hoseokteardrop @jkkkkkay

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choicesficwriterscreations · 3 months

Text

February Creator of the Month: Noesapphic

Each month, CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers or artists, and this month’s creator of the month is the lovely @noesapphic! The writer is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page. Past COTM's can be found here.

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog Masterlist

How do you want to be known on Tumblr?

Noe is fine, really!

More below...

1- When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played?

I started in 2018. I was bored in a friend's house and fighting good old insomnia when I saw the app and tried it for funsies. The first book was 'High School Story'.

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

I joined around late 2018 early 2019 and I had just left my community in Amino because the admin had gone full puritanical dictator and I was curious about Tumblr.

3- How did you pick your blog name?

It was simple: my nickname is Noe and I am a sapphic (aka lesbian). It's a no-brainer, really.

4- Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it!

It was a reblogged quote. I related to what it said and I reblogged it

5- Do you write fanfiction, create fan art, or are you one of those really gifted people who do both?

I write fanfiction. God did not grant me art skills I'm afraid. My fingers are too fat and my pulse is terrible.

6- How long have you been creating for Choices and for any other fandoms?

I've been creating for fandoms as long as I can remember. I've had a really troubled life, so creating stuff helped me. As for Choices, I've been creating stuff since 2019

7- What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to create for?

Without a doubt, Desire and Decorum. The first book is simply a masterlist and its characters are so well-written, and everything about it just draws me to it. They definitely botched the other books, but it will always be in my heart. I also enjoy creating for other historical books and books that have similar themes

8- Share your first Choices fanfic or fan art that you posted with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were creating it today?

It was a set of headcanons of Mr. Sinclaire and my MC, Celestine, finding out that they're going to be parents. While my spelling is terrible, I wouldn't change a thing. The engagement I received was such, it drove me to write for more. I haven't stopped creating since.

9- What your favorite piece of fiction or art that you created?

It's no secret for anyone who pays attention to my blog: my au, The Cursed Heiress, is probably my best creation. It's complex and a juggernaut of lore and history, and has all I've ever wanted in a fic and book in it. Although a close second is my Tudor AU, For Love and Duty. I simply love the 'arranged marriage' trope

10- Do you have a fic/art that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to do well but found it could use a little more love?

The second part of a one shot, A True Man, was probably one of the most difficult to write, and with a very traumatising and important theme. I was 100% hoping anon hate telling me to delete it, but found instead that the people ate it up! It has now 30 notes (which is A LOT for a small fandom like the D&D one) and now that I reread it, I'm proud of what I created and the message I wanted to send, which resonates with happenings of my past and experiences.

11 - If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?

Definitely angst. There's something so cathartic and relieving as letting out those emotions you can't express out loud without being locked up for being unhinged, and it has helped me understand myself many times. Also, smut is def something that I can't physically write 😅

12 - Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

There are small parts of me in every MC. A fragment of my past. Something of their lore that I went through. Something I aspire to be. Something I wanted to be once. I like to think that every writer leaves a part of their heart and soul with each character they create.

13 - What element of writing/art do you struggle with most?

Ooof, where to begin. I think the hardest part is to just write. I can go on for weeks looking at my turned-off laptop and goof off on Tumblr. But when I do write, the 'boring' parts or writing a character that I am not familiar with or that there isn't much info about can be challenging.

14 - Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

Oof, where to begin, lol. My modern AUs, The Viscountess and Plan B. There's also Your Most Ardent Admirer and For Love and Duty. There's the fix-it fic series of the Blades LIs. Profiles of my MCs from several series. And also fic ideas that I want to create, but don't know where or how to start it. Woe is me indeed 😭

15 - If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to see your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you show them first?

Depends on the person. I would be very, very picky. I did show some parts of The Cursed Heiress to two trusted friends. But I wouldn't be against showing my mom a few chapters of The Viscountess… Unfortunately, she does not speak a word of English and I am terrible at translations, so it's wishful thinking, lol.

16 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing or art? Are there any artists that influence you?

For the published ones, Holly Black and Cassandra Clare have probably been my biggest help. Leigh Bardugo is also a newer inspo, and Spanish author Laura Gallego got me into fantasy, and anonymous author Bebi Fernández's raw and brutal prose have helped me find my voice. I have now bought George R.R Martin's Game of Thrones, looking for new sources to grasp.

As for fandom-wise, the very first writer to inspire me unfortunately hasn't been active since the pandemic, and despite our differences, @hellospunkiebrewster 's writing and essays got me into Regency and its history. My thriving years were by her side, and I'm grateful of having had a great fandom friend and hyper. The most recent ones are @missameliep my amazing fandom mom (te quiero mami 🥰) and some pieces by @princess-geek 's writing have inspired me to expand my horizon.

17- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series?

The Cursed Heiress, definitely. I think that my messages would resonate with many people. There's also The Viscountess: many people should see the messages Nicole, Anne and others have, and for what I have planned (and have been stalling out of laziness 🫣) would put things into perspective for many minorities and certain groups that are neglected by society and governments alike. 19- Do you write original fiction or create non-fandom art?

I am now at the outlining stages of making The Cursed Heiress an original novel. I tried many times to make my own novel, but always dropped it. But now that I've been for years with it, I feel like this might be the one project I dreamed of publishing one day. It's tough and scary, but I'm loving the ride so far.

Also, I have tried my hand with poetry, but it didn't have engagement and felt like talking to a wall, so I now feel discouraged. But if someone out there is interested, lmk 👀

20- What other hobbies do you have?

Apart from literature, I love make-up, skincare, cooking and making gifs and videoedits. I also love travelling and discovering new adventures and learning as many languages as I am capable. I also love listening to music. Basically anything that has to do with the humanities and art, I'll take it. Also, I am very invested in modern royal gossip. I know, not very republican of me… 🫣😅

21 - What’s your favorite emoji?

Apparently, the one I use the most is 🫡🫶🏻👀. Heh, sounds like me, lol

22: BONUS - tell us anything you’d like (if you want to).

____

Two reminders to both creators and onlookers alike:

Creators: making content is NOT a race or a chore. It's something you make just because, and share it with the world. If you don't enjoy it, it's not worth the effort.

Onlookers: I know how much you may love X thing, but remember that behind that art, fic, etc, there's a person with real feelings, real life and that is taking off free time to make something. Enjoy it, reblog it (please, reblog the stuff you love) and if you don't like it, filter the tag, block and move on. It's really that simple.

Also, happy Valentine's Day AND Black History Month to the black creators of Choices! You're awesome and we love you ❤ sending you love 🥰

#choices fic writers creations #playchoices #choices stories you play #cfwc creator of the month #noesapphic #choices fanfic #playchoices fanfic #february creator of the month #desire and decorum

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tennessoui · 7 months

Note

Professor-can-fuck-me wedding ficlet? (◉‿◉)

so i realized after receiving this ask that i don't think i've ever actually written a obikin wedding ficlet for any of my aus or fics and i don't want my first wedding ficlet to be this au unfortunately, so no can do but here's 1.6k of wedding adjacent fic (bachelor party)

(1.6k)

“Hi Professor,” Rex greets the moment Obi-Wan opens the door.

And really, he appreciates the boy’s desire to show respect—even though he never even took Obi-Wan’s class—but this is hardly the time or place for such decorum.

“Rex,” Obi-Wan acknowledges, rubbing at his eye with the palm of his hand before blinking at him and then down to his watch. “Good god, man. It’s three in the morning, what are you doing here?”

Then another thought occurs to him.

“Wait,” he says, “where’s Anakin?”

Rex throws a thumb over his shoulder. “My brothers are getting him out of the car right now. I decided to come up here and tell you first, to prepare you and such.”

Obi-Wan’s stomach drops; his heart rate speeds up. “Prepare me for what? What’s wrong with him?”

Are his palms sweaty? Is his voice high? His grip on the door tightens. Logically, he knows that Anakin’s friend would not bring Anakin home so casually if he were hurt. Logically, he understands that if Anakin were to be injured, Obi-Wan would receive a call from the hospital upon his check-in, or the police if he had died, or Rex in the teary moments after. His friends would not just—knock on Obi-Wan’s door at three in the morning and then dump Anakin’s corpse on his doorstep.

Logically Obi-Wan knows all of that. But he has never been a very logical man when it comes to Anakin Skywalker. If he were, they’d probably not be where they are right now anyway—living together after five months together, engaged after six, married around eight.

Hell, they wouldn’t be in a relationship at all most probably, given the fact that when they met, Anakin was Obi-Wan’s student. And when Anakin kissed him for the first time, Anakin was—well. He was still his student. And when Obi-Wan kissed him for the first time, Anakin was…perhaps ten seconds free from being his student.

So he’s never been logical about Anakin, not really. And while a part of him knows and understands that if something had seriously gone wrong on Anakin’s bachelor night, scant days before their wedding, the man would have enough tact to find a better way to break the news than whatever this is.

But he’s old and overly emotional and high-strung when it comes to his wayward fiancé. And so his pulse is hammering and his palms are sweaty. And he is waiting with baited breath for Rex Amidala to tell him what has happened to him.

Because—because if something has happened, then Obi-Wan…Obi-Wan does not know what he would do. Who he would become. How he would continue to—to continue, after, in a world after.

“He’s, well. He’s very—uh,” Rex rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “He’s—”

“Obi-Wan!” Anakin cries, much too loudly for the quiet stillness of their apartment’s hallway. “Obi-Wan, hi, baby!”

Obi-Wan’s head snaps to look at his wayward fiancé, who is currently half dragging and half being dragged by a very reluctant looking Cody Fett and an entirely too entertained Jesse Fett.

“Drunk,” Rex finishes. “He’s really, really drunk, Professor.”

“Ah,” Obi-Wan says, stepping over the threshold of his door to catch Anakin the moment the other man decides to rip himself away from his handlers and fall into Obi-Wan’s arms. “Perhaps lead with that next time, Mr. Amidala.”

Anakin rubs his face over the front of Obi-Wan’s sleepshirt. “So soft,” he mumbles, repeating the action. When his lips find the skin of Obi-Wan’s neck, he makes a quiet sound of happiness and presses a kiss there. Then he bites.

“Okay,” Obi-Wan decides. “I’ll take it from here, you three. Thank you for getting him home in one piece.”

“If he throws up, you have to tell us,” Jesse says, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall opposite the door.

“Oh?” Obi-Wan’s eyebrow arches up as he tries to imply with one syllable and a single movement that he is a forty-two year old man who does not have to tell these college-faced twats anything unless he wants to.

“Ani’s been giving me shit about throwing up over his shoes during my bachelor’s party since it happened,” Rex says. “Fair’s fair.”

“But I haven’t yet!” Anakin slurs, wrapping his arms around Obi-Wan’s neck as he nuzzles farther into him. “And you put me in the car and then gave me shots and made it go really fast in circles and I haven’t yet!”

Obi-Wan gives Rex an incredulous look over Anakin’s head. The other man has the shame at least to look slightly sheepish.

“Good night, all,” Obi-Wan says, stepping as smoothly as he can back into his apartment. “We’ll see you at the wedding.”

If his fiancé survives the rest of the night and, presumably, the hangover to follow.

When the door closes, Anakin sags even more into Obi-Wan’s arms. “I missed you so much,” Anakin mumbles. His lips stay against the skin of his neck, and the feeling would be quite distracting if Obi-Wan wasn’t so reluctantly amused at the moment.

“You are very drunk,” he tells him, detaching himself enough to more easily walk and pull Anakin from the doorway through their apartment. “Bedtime for bachelors.”

“I missed you so much, so I thought maybe I could drink extra fast and then they’d let me come home early,” Anakin explains, eyes only partially held open.

“And how did that work out?” Obi-Wan asks, depositing Anakin onto their bed and kneeling on the floor to untie his boots.

“Mm,” Anakin says, flopping onto his back. He giggles for some reason unknown to those sober in the room, and wriggles his toes in an approximation of help. “Not good. They just bought me more.”

“Oh, my heart goes out for you, darling,” Obi-Wan murmurs, placing the first boot on the floor and tackling the second. “You must suffer so much because your friends are very nice and bought you drinks during your bachelor’s party.”

“Uh huh,” Anakin slurs. “Knew you’d understand. Hey–hey, did you miss me too?” Obi-Wan had had a very nice and quiet night, nursing a scotch by the fireplace and grading papers. He’d warmed up a leftover serving of a mince pie and served himself a piece of apple galette for dessert. And yet— “Yes, of course,” he says. “Though I am glad you had fun.”

“It was fun,” his fiancé agrees and then yawns. “Not as fun as the wedding’s gonna be though.” His fingers run to the buttons of his shirt and start tugging at them. Obi-Wan sighs, shifts, and stands to help him in this as well. “I can’t wait to marry you,” Anakin adds.

He looks so earnest and open, rosy cheeks and glassy eyes and shirt half-done. He’s going to be the world’s biggest pain in Obi-Wan’s ass tomorrow when the hangover really hits him. And Obi-Wan is going to take care of him through all of it.

Practice for the rest of their lives. The wedding rehearsal he hadn’t known was on the docket.

Still, his mouth turns up at the corner as he smiles, reaching out to brush aside Anakin’s hair. “I cannot wait to be married to you as well,” he murmurs.

Anakin closes his eyes and grins sleepily, drunkenly. “And I’ll get to be added to your insurance which is real good, cause I don’t have a job.”

“Brat,” Obi-Wan scolds, tugging at the end of his hair. “Is that the only reason you’re marrying me?”

“Yeah,” his fiancé says. “But it really helps that I’ve also been completely obsessed with you since, like, the second class of the year.”

Obi-Wan purses his lips, strangely touched. Sober, Anakin doesn’t always like to talk about the very beginnings of their relationship, as if he thinks should they discuss it enough, Obi-Wan may realize he’s made a terrible mistake in taking up with one of his undergraduate students.

To be fair to him, it is a terrible mistake, and one that Obi-Wan is fully aware of already. And what Anakin probably doesn’t know is that no amount of discussion will sway Obi-Wan from the path he’s decided to walk.

“Only the second class?” he asks, settling onto the bed next to Anakin. “Should I be offended?” “I skipped the first one,” Anakin mutters, turning his face into his thigh and nudging at him until he begins to pet at Anakin’s hair. “Hooked up with a girl from my first period instead.”

Obi-Wan tugs rather rudely on his hair at this.

“But then, you were there during the second class,” Anakin says, though Obi-Wan thinks maybe the more accurate statement would be I was there during the second class, considering Obi-Wan had to be there. As he was the professor.

Obi-Wan hums and restarts his soothing petting.

“And that was it,” Anakin sighs, pressing a kiss to Obi-Wan’s covered thigh. “You were it for me. And I’m really glad I’m it for you too or I would be really, really, really sad, and I’ve been really, really, really happy for ages now.”

“I’ve been happy too,” Obi-Wan confesses, shifting himself to lie down, facing Anakin. “I—”

He wants to say I thought about losing you today, for real and forever, and it hurt me inconceivably. Or, you mean so much to me that I missed you when you were away, and even though there was a fire in the fireplace, it felt cold all through our home. Or, it took me longer to love you, but I do and I do, and I do.

But when he looks down at Anakin’s expression, it’s to find that the man has managed to fall asleep between one breath and the next.

But, well. They have time for Obi-Wan’s I do’s later. In fact, they’ve put aside a whole day for it.

#asks #professor can fuck me au #obikin #something short and soft and stupid #also the first thing i've written on my new laptop and it took me half the time :0 #probably going to be switching ebtween short things & chapter 4 of couples counseling and the hunger games au fic for the next little while #so may be quiet around here #not that these tags are relevant for this lmao

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ddagent · 2 months

Note

"Good afternoon. I have an appointment at five o'clock?"

Aziraphale Fell smiled at the lovely receptionist in the dentist, who handed him a stack of paperwork after he politely reminded her - yet again - that he did not have an email address, had no desire to have an email address, and he had no issue filling in paperwork. She handed him a biro with a chewed end and sent him upstairs to await Doctor Service.

The waiting room at the Whickber Dental Practice was small: there were six seats, all told, and a sprawling figure with black snakeskin boots was taking up half of them. Upon spotting the figure, the hand clutching the clipboard fell. "You."

A pair of sunglasses slipped downwards and an easy smile bloomed on the other man's face. "Angel. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were stalking me."

"Hardly. And I have a name, you know. It's not Angel."

The other man merely snorted and went back to perusing an out-of-date copy of Gardner's Weekly. Aziraphale took one of the empty seats opposite, nose wrinkling at the pen, and began filling out the forms required before his appointment. More than once, his gaze drifted to the dreadful man opposite him. They had first met in line at the coffee shop - where this awful man had pushed past Aziraphale in the queue. Next had been the pharmacy - where Aziraphale had let everyone bar him cut in front. Then the post office. The Dirty Donkey. Even waiting for a table at the new restaurant Aziraphale had been dying to try.

It was becoming rather ridiculous. Yet, Aziraphale had no desire whatsoever to get to know this man that fate kept throwing in his path. Aziraphale's gaze darted in his direction, following the long line of his legs. Even if he was bloody gorgeous.

Aziraphale quickly busied himself. He had forms to fill out. His brushing habits were excellent: twice a day, electric toothbrush, regular flossing. He began to falter, however, when he came to the questions on units of alcohol and sweet treats per day.

"You can lie, you know. They won't know." Aziraphale glanced up from his form. The man was watching him intently. "It's what I do."

"But they will. Know, I mean. They can tell from my teeth." Aziraphale, shame crawling over him, put down the accurate units. Ish. "For the best."

The man hummed. "I 'spose. But we both know that whatever advice they give you, you'll be back to ignoring it before lunchtime. Maybe at a charming bistro or a lovely patisserie."

Aziraphale flushed. He did not care for this man's judgement - especially from a man who had a beaten packet of cigarettes in his front pocket and a dusty mouth guard case that looked like it hadn't been opened since the 90s. But, before he could be drawn into yet another argument about social decorum, Doctor Sandwich's dental assistant appeared.

"Anthony Crowley?"

The man raised his hand. "That's me." He stood from the chair, hips swaying as he followed the assistant. Before he climbed the short flight of stairs to the dental suite, he stared at Aziraphale. "A pleasure, as always, Angel. Where will we meet next?"

"Nowhere, if there is a God."

The man, Crowley, threw his head back and laughed. He then offered Aziraphale a wink and went to his appointment. Aziraphale just sat, clipboard firmly clutched in his hands, and tried to focus on the fact that he loathed this man - and not that the acrobatics his stomach was making at the memory of the way Crowley had stared at him. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if they were to run into each other again. Maybe.

Give me a number - that’s how many seconds I’ll spend thinking of an Aziraphale/Crowley AU to write for you in 200 words or more.

#aziraphale x crowley #good omens #ineffable husands #brought to you by my own dental woes #basically I'm fighting with my new mouth guard and my wisdom tooth hates it #dd: prompts #dd: fanfic

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missameliep · 10 months

Note

Hii 🥰

So in honor of World Yoga Day. I wanted to ask do your MC‘s and or OC‘s practice any type of sports?

If yes which one and why?

Hi! Thank you so much for your ask!

That's such a good question. Most of my MCs and OCs take care of their health and exercise, but the ones who actually enjoy sports are Elizabeth Foredale (OC/Desire & Decorum AU), who swims and jogs regularly and will learn how to surf with Hamid; and Malia Jones (MC/Wake the Dead), who practices combat sports, like boxing and other martial arts, which are survival skills in the post-apocalyptic world she lives in, and when the group settles in the new colony, she'll definitely enjoy the free time taking advantage of the mountain skiing or snowboarding, and playing games like soccer or basketball.

#ask box!#oc: elizabeth foredale #mc: malia jones #choices fanfic #desire and decorum au #wake the dead fanfic

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lorirwritesfanfic · 7 months

Text

"Don't worry about her. It's no big deal."

"Isn't it?"

"Of course not, sweetie. Talia doesn't understand the concept of horror yet. To her, the creepy doll is just like any other doll."

"Maybe she likes the creepy doll because she finds it funny when someone is scared or uncomfortable. You know... Like you do," Nesrin commented.

Hamid grimaced. He did use to have fun scaring the shit out of his sisters, mother and literally anyone who was afraid of his scary toys, video games and movies. And even though he hated fighting with Daphne, he still couldn't get over the sound of Talia's giggles whenever she approached anyone on the streets whilst dressed as Chucky.

"Am I a terrible parent for this? I mean, she's obviously copying my behaviour." He frowned.

"She copies both of you, sweetie. Every little kid does. This is a natural process that neither of you has any control over," Veronica said.

"But why does she have to like the crazy things I do? Can't she like just the cutesy stuff Daphne does?"

"Give her time, abi. Soon she'll forget the doll and you can get rid of it."

Talia Wang-Osmanoğlu moodboard + excerpt of Bad Parenting (one-shot of Meant To Be - Desire & Decorum modern day AU) for @choicesoctober OCtober: newest

#choices moodboards #desire and decorum #choicesoctober2023 #desire & decorum moden day au #talia wang-osmanoğlu #lorirwritesfanfic #lorircreates #did this ages ago and never posted #i don't know why tbh #but i guess it fits the OCtober prompt right 😁#she is my newest OC (not only she is a toddler but also the last one created)#she could also fit as a favorite but then again i have many favorite ocs lol

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late-to-the-fandom · 6 months

Text

Get to know the fanfic writer!

Thank you to the wonderful @fluffleforce-mysdrym for the tag (learn about her here).

Tagging: @velvethopewrites @27fanficlilies @omnissian-scribe @frozen-fountain @mysticstarlightduck @darknightfrombeyond @malicious-compliance-esq

When did you post your first-ever fanfic?

2019 – it took a very long time (20 something years) to work up the confidence to complete something and post it

First Character(s) you wrote?

I started very on-brand, writing for a C list character in the HPHM mobile game AND after his extremely brief and small surge of popularity. So needless to say it was a nonexistent fandom.

Main Character(s) you're currently writing?

Oh, Prince Renathal and I are still hanging out daily.

Character(s) you haven't written about before but plan to soon?

Not sure I have one of those. I have no plans after I finish my current series except maybe to finish the AU I hiatused.

Fandom(s) you're currently writing?

World of Warcraft (but only B list characters from the least popular expansion to date because that’s just who I am)

Platonic Pairing(s) you're currently writing?

I suppose Renathal/Theotar, Renathal/Draven both show up in Wend in the Shadows. I wanted to stress Renathal’s desire for, but ultimate inability to cultivate, truly intimate friendships because of his political position (and also his dad being a dick).

Romantic Pairing(s) you're currently writing?

Mainly Renathal/the Maw Walker (Elisewin), although the more I float little bits of the Accuser/Curator’s story the more I wonder about writing something short just for them. I ship them super hard on the sidelines.

Your top AO3 tags?

Probably Smut, Explicit Smut, and Sorry, no smut

Current platform you use for posting?

Ao3 and Tumblr

Snippet of the WIP you are currently working on?

Well, I recently had a bug to finish the next chapter of Shadow UNIverse which had been hiatused since spring. I’m halfway done with the second to last chapter, which is exciting. Hoping I can finish it soon and not burn out again. I've included a little snippet under the cut.

"Shall I confess something?"

"Yes, please."

"I have wanted to do this for some time."

"Really?” The Maw Walker craned her neck gingerly to the right, attempting to catch Renathal's eye with her good one. “Help me wash my hair while keeping my casts out of water? That's a very specific fantasy."

Renathal’s reply was to reach around and daub soapy shampoo lather bubbles to the end of the Maw Walker’s nose, upsetting the careful decorum she had maintained throughout the undignified bathing ritual as well as her precarious balance on the edge of his claw foot tub. But she was laughing as she slipped and he was laughing as he caught her, and it was several mirth-filled minutes and inelegant contortions before both were back in position.

"The fantasy,” he explained around the dregs of amusement as he resumed scrubbing the top of the Maw Walker's head, “was to have you in my bath. I admit, this was not precisely what I pictured."

"Oh, I see." She cocked her head to the side again and Renathal could see the hint of a smile play around her puffy, bruised lips. "How did you picture it?"

“Hmm…”

He made a thoughtful sort of noise and scrubbed in silence for several seconds, as if only now considering the details of a fantasy he'd had ready and waiting for weeks.

"Well, there would certainly have been wine,” he said at last - the Maw Walker hummed her approval. "And candles perhaps. Bath salts. Bubbles."

She wiped a bit of lingering lather from the side of her nose.

"We do have those."

Renathal chuckled but otherwise ignored this interjection as he finished, “And we would both of us have actually been in the bath. And with all our limbs safely intact."

“Ah, I see,” the Maw Walker repeated, though this time the smile in it was shaky. Renathal could feel the tension settle stiffly in her shoulders as he worked shampoo through the ends of her hair “That does sound lovely. I am… sorry to disappoint.”

#tag games #writblr games #renathal x maw walker #a shadow UNIverse

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passingbypainfullyaware · 2 years

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Some Saphael AU ideas and prompts, because there needs to be more CONTENT:

Nurse AU: Simon and Raphael are both nurses in different hospital wards but it literally just this tiktok:

Police AU: Simon and Raphael are detective partners. Raphael is well dressed and functional, Simon is Jake Peralta with a penchant for forgetting his anxiety meds. So naturally, they fall in love.

Roommates AU: Raphael and Simon share an apartment but theyve never gotten along all that well so Simon tends to avoid him. Raphael is packing for his trip home for Easter when the pandemic hits.

Nerd/Jock AU: Simon gets asked to prom… by Raphael… HOLY SHIT! Simon just got asked to prom by Raphael.

Time travel AU: Simon is a time traveller, Raphael is the mysterious immortal he runs into in every now and again in each new time period he visits, like it’s some kind of reoccurring bit. (This is based of of another persons post but I’ve since lost the link lmk what it is and I’ll add it)

Regency AU: Raphael is a desirable bachelor amongst the men of the most honourable nobility, but each expression of admiration and attempt at courting him simply does not seem to bear fruit. Enter Simon, who although is known as the prodigious son of social elites is in reality, a recluse of a man who spends his days tinkering rather than learning social etiquette and proper decorum. Raphael is, quite understandably, enamoured.

Boy next door AU: Simon has lived next to Raphael for as long as he could remember. He’s had a huge crush on him for most of it.

Ghost Hunter (AKA buzzfeed unsolved) AU: Simon is a ghost hunter with his own channel, Raphael is the demon he picked up on the way. Simon walks into haunted buildings and Raphael prevents him from dying, usually he can also be found vehemently denying the very existence of the supernatural whilst alpha dogging the rest of the ghost and demons they encounter into submission.

Country town: Simon is a musician and Clary is an artist, a little time off in Bordertown wouldn’t hurt to get all those creative juices flowing. They enter a quaint little town and interact with the colourful locals. Simon is drawn to one in particular.

Found fam: The Clan is Found Family for Raphael and Simon

Reunion AU: Simon and Raphael return to their old high school with the rest of their graduating class.

#simon lewis #raphael santiago #saphael fanfic #saphael #writing prompt #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #shadowhunters #vampire #fanfic ideas #someone write something I’m desperate #I’m living on CRUMBS #malec #could also work with some prompts

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alj4890 · 1 year

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Suggestions/Requests Welcome!

To get out of the writer's block I have for my WIP's in my drafts folder, I decided to challenge myself to write thirty drabbles in thirty days with various Choices pairings/storylines and the below list of kiss prompts I came across on my dashboard that @missameliep shared. I could use some help with which pairs I should put with certain prompts, so please feel free to suggest who you would like to see in the comments. The ones with a checkmark have been written with pairs already requested while others have pairs I first thought of when I read the prompts. Also please feel free to challenge yourself with these! I'm having so much fun with it (so far🤣)

Thirty Kisses in Thirty Days Kiss Challenge prompts

1. sharing a kiss while sitting by a campfire. LOA (Quinn Michaels x Aislinn Tanaka) ✅

2. a kiss given between ocean waves. (Prince Ellis x Emily Beaumont) TRR*While We're Young AU ✅

3. kissing your lover because you believe you're going to die. The Unexpected Heiress (Hugh Crawford x MC) ✅

4. kissing the tears that roll down your lover's cheeks. (Ethan x Sophie) OH ✅

5. a kiss while being held bridal style. (Tobias Carrick x F!MC) Open Heart ✅

6. a playful kiss given between laughter. (Maxwell Beaumont x Amanda) TRR ✅

7. finally kissing the friend you've been yearning for. (Thomas Hunt x Amanda) RCD

8. kissing your enemy while holding them at knife point. (Drake Walker x Olivia Nevrakis) ✅

9. a kiss in the aftermath of a fight. (Tobias Carrick x F!MC) OH ✅

10. forbidden lovers sharing a kiss in the shadows. Desire and Decorum (Ernest Sinclair x MC) ✅

11. kissing down your lover's body.

12. kissing at a crowded party. (Liam x MC) ✅

13. a kiss shared against a tree. (Thomas Hunt x OC) *Regency AU* ✅

14. a kiss to end sexual tension. (Bertrand Beaumont x MC) TRR ✅

15. kissing to pretend that you are in a relationship together. (Emerick Rhys x Juliet Nevrakis-Walker) TRR *While We're Young AU* ✅

16. a kiss to prove you no longer have feelings for your lover. (Leo x Madeleine) Rules of Engagement ✅

17. a kiss that leads to undressing each other.

18. a kiss to say goodbye. (Maxwell x OC) ✅

19. kisses against a wound. It Lives Beneath (Tom x F!MC) ✅

20. a kiss to the forehead, meant to soothe. (Thomas Hunt x Amanda after Maxwell's death) RCD/TRR *While We're Young AU* ✅

21. an 'i love you but i can't be with you' kiss. (Jax x MC) BloodBound ✅

22. passionate kisses that end in ripped clothing. (Tobias Carrick x Chris Valentine) OH ✅

23. your lover going to walk away, but you grab them and pull them back in for a kiss before they go. (Jackson Nevrakis-Walker x Nicky Beaumont) TRR *While We're Young AU* ✅

24. a kiss shared underneath fireworks. (Thomas Hunt x OC) Red Carpet Diaries ✅

25. A kiss to the neck from behind (Ethan Ramsey x OC) Open Heart ✅

26.an "I'm in love with someone else, but you're here," kiss (Liam x Madeleine) TRR ✅

27. An "I forgive you." Kiss (Liam and his daughter) *Family Fluff ✅

28. A kiss that leaves lipstick marks (Thomas Hunt x OC) RCD ✅

29. A kiss to make someone else jealous (Ethan Ramsey x OC) OH ✅

30. A kiss at a masquerade ball (Jackson Nevrakis-Walker x Nicky Beaumont) TRR/While We're Young AU ✅

#thirty kisses in thirty days #kiss prompt challenge

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choicesficwriterscreations · 4 months

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January Creator of the Month: Jerzwriter

Each month, CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers or artists, and this month’s creator of the month is CFWC's own @jerzwriter. The writer is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page.

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog Complete Masterlist

How do you want to be known on Tumblr?

Elsa

More below...

1- When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played?

It was sometime in 2017, and the first book I ever played was The Royal Romance, Book 1.

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

I joined a couple Facebook groups in 2019. I just wanted to discuss stories with others who were interested, as no one in my real life reads Choices. I didn't even know I was entering a fandom. lol I started reading fanfic on Tumblr the following year, but I found Tumblr intimidating, so I was mostly a silent reader. I didn’t start writing and contributing until May 2021, mostly because Open Heart was ending and I was in denial. 🙂

3- How did you pick your blog name?

It’s pretty boring, actually. I’m from NJ, and I write. I wanted it to be JerZwriter, so people would know it is Jer-ZEE-Writer, but that wasn’t doable, so it’s Jerzwriter, and most think it is Jerz-Writer. Oh, well!

4- Pull up the first and last posts in your archive, and tell us about them!

My first post was the first chapter of my Ethan x Casey x Tobias love triangle, Delaying the Inevitable (OH). It was my very first fanfic and I really didn't think I'd write anything beyond that. I was so green back then, not only to fanfic but to the fandom as well. I’m really glad that I was naive because I don’t think I would have had the courage to post it if I had, but I’m glad that I did.

My last post was Falling for You, a little drabble I wrote for Tobias x Casey (OH), and it featured a commission by the talented artist @weetlebeetle. It was a light, fun piece that took place early in Tobias and Casey's relationship, and it shows Tobias at his absolute simpiest. Lol

5- Do you write fanfiction, create fan art, or are you one of those really gifted people who do both?

Oh, how I wish I could draw, but I can't. So, I’m strictly a writer. I may try giving drawing a go again, but I don't expect much to come of it. lol

6- How long have you been creating for Choices and for any other fandoms?

Choices was the first fandom I ever wrote for, and I started in May of 2021. So, just over two and a half years. I have written a little bit for some other fandoms since that time, but I primarily write for Choices.

7- What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to create for?

Tough question. I write for Open Heart, Crimes of Passion, and Wake the Dead, and they are three of my favorite stories. I also loved Desire & Decorum, but I never wrote for it. Though, I’m planning a re-read, and you never know. 🙂

8- Share your first Choices fanfic or fan art that you posted with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were creating it today?

It was the first chapter of Delaying the Inevitable. I was so green when I started that series that I’m sure there are things I would change, but I’m still very proud of it. That series will always have a special place in my heart. I’d like to revisit it one day to “clean it up”, it could use some condensing. But I would never change the storyline.

9- What is your favorite piece of fiction or art that you created?

This is such an unfair question. lol The Delaying the Inevitable Series definitely comes to mind, but I’m also very proud of my Eli Sipes prequel stories, A Mother’s Journal, Coming Up Blank, and The End of the World. But Tobias and Casey are my favorite pairing, and I simply love the world I created for them. And while my headcanon for them is my favorite, I cannot pick just one fic for them, and I'm not going to! lol But, I've also written a bunch of AUs for them, and Friends* is one of my favorites.

10- Do you have a fic/art that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to do well but found it could use a little more love?

Yes, to both! The fandom is much smaller today, but back when we were more active, I learned you couldn't predict how a fic would be received. There are too many to name, but I will say whenever my smut does well (and quite a few of them have), I’m always astounded. lol

11- If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?

This is such a difficult question because I believe the best stories incorporate a little of each, and, as a writer, exploring all three helps spur creativity. Also, my absolute favorite is angst with a happy ending, so there is definitely some fluff in there (and I'm never mad at a little smut being thrown in!) But if I were forced to choose, it would probably be angst. I think that's where I am strongest, and I just love raw emotion. I think that’s where character development really occurs. I have not written as much angst recently, and I miss it. Perhaps I need a change in 2024.

12 - Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

There are definitely parts of me in my MCs and OCs, but I do my best to prevent them from becoming self-inserts. I'm not as cool as any of them, that's for sure! lol That said, I do find inspiration for my fics in real life, so there is bound to be a little crossover. When using real-life inspiration, I try to change details so that the fiction is not a carbon copy of the real-life event. Normally, by the time I'm done, they're hardly recognizable.

13 - What element of writing/art do you struggle with most? Where do you feel you are strongest?

I struggle most with setting a scene. Dialogue is my strong suit, and that just flows for me. It flows so much that sometimes I forget to describe what's going on around the conversation. I think this is particularly easy to do in fanfiction because so much of the "world" has already been provided for us, so I recognize this more when I'm writing original works.

The other thing I struggle with? Brevity. I know I can go on, and on, and on. lol I've gotten much better at this, but there is still room for improvement.

14 - Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

(Elsa leaves the room, quietly crawls under her desk, and hides…) YES!!! Far, far too many, and no matter how much I share those posts that say, "You don't have to finish! If you're not feeling it, move on!" I don't believe it! lol I really want to make wrapping them up a priority in 2024. But I also know writing - particularly good writing - cannot be forced. So, it's a goal, but I'll only do it if I feel it’s right.

15 - If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to see your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you show them first?

It would depend on who asked. I’m not ashamed of writing fanfic at all, but if I believed the person would be judgemental, I wouldn't be willing to share. A few of my friends have read select pieces of my fanfic, and I’ve always received positive feedback from them. I wouldn’t be opposed to sharing more. What I'd share would depend greatly on the person asking.

16 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing or art? Are there any artists that influence you?

There are many published writers that I admire, but I don’t think they've influenced my writing here. Within the fandom, there are many writers who have inspired me in different ways. There is no way I can ever name them all. But I'd like to give a shout-out to some.

@jamespotterthefirst and @bex-la-get were among the first writers I read when I joined Tumblr. I found their passion for both canon and the worlds they created inspiring, especially as Open Heart was nearing its end and all of us addicts needed our fill. Reading their works helped keep the story alive for me and so many others, and it inspired me to try my hand at it as well. To my shock, they were both so encouraging and supportive of me when I arrived, and I'm forever grateful. Back then, I thought they were rockstars - and they are! But now, they're also friends. I wasn't familiar with @alwaysmychoices from the start, but when I came across their work, I was just blown away. Weekend with Dr. Ramsey will live rent-free in my head forever, and that headcanon about Charlie calling Ethan the night before she marries someone else. (I faint.) Ohhh, the delicious angst! The way she made me feel what Charlie felt was just mind-boggling, and it encouraged me to really dig into my character's emotions and bring them to life in a more meaningful way.

Early on, I read @utterlyinevitable, and the thing that impressed me the most was how Dom was willing to "write stories that “went "go there.” They tackled issues that others wouldn't touch. In their world, everything wasn’t perfect, including the characters themselves. I admired that vision and, frankly, bravery, and it definitely encouraged me to write what I wanted to and not what I felt was expected of me.

More recently, @mydemonsdrivealimo inspired me to explore parts of my MCs that I have not delved into in the past. In particular, Casey's bisexuality. It can be challenging to represent a bisexual character when they are in a straight-presenting relationship, and you risk alienating readers no matter what you do (looking at all readers here.) So it becomes easier to be lazy and ignore it. But that's a disservice to the character as much as it's a disservice to people living similar situations in real life... like I have many times. Through MJ's writing and our conversations, they've helped me become more aware and do a better job in this regard, and I'm not even sure if they know this - it may totally be news to them lol - but I'm eternally grateful. Now, I feel my girl Casey is free, and OMG, how I love our characters playing together in HC now!

Then there are @lilyoffandoms and @storyofmychoices, who bring joy to all that they touch. Who knew when Lily created a little drabble putting our characters in a new world together, it would end up being one of the brightest fandom spots of 2023? Who knew that so much more would stem from that one work? Seriously, it's been one of the highlights of my fandom experience this year, and it's helped me to find inspiration at times when I felt like it was lost. Thank you both - I am so lucky to have you both here!

There are so many more I could mention, but I'd still forget people and feel horrible, so I want to take the chance to thank every writer in the fandom for sharing their gifts with us. Each of you is an inspiration in your own way; each of you can give someone an idea, and you have no idea where that spark will lead. So, never stop sharing!

17- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series?

Delaying the Inevitable, Friends*, All in the Past, and the WIP What’s Forever For. I also think some of my Ethan x Tobias works would have made for a good sitcom, and how I wish my Tobias x Casey friendship with Bryce x Jensen would be an epic sitcom. The world needs it! lol (Jensen belongs to @mydemonsdrivealimo.)

19- Do you write original fiction or create non-fandom art?

I do. Mostly shorter stories that will never see the light of day, but also some more substantive works... which will also never see the light of day! lol I wrote a novel-length political thriller some time ago. It would need a ton of work to bring it up to 2024, as the political landscape has changed so much. I also have two original WIPs I've been writing. One is an angsty story about a friendship that's loosely based on a childhood friend I lost to cancer a few years ago. The other is a polyamorous romance about two best friends who fall for the same person. It's really a beautiful, emotional story. If I like the end result, maybe I'll let it see the light of day... maybe. lol

20- What other hobbies do you have?

I enjoy theater, and I'm lucky enough to live in the best part of the world to partake in that. I go to a lot of Broadway, Off-Broadway, and local theater productions. I also love going to concerts - they’re like group therapy! Trust me, I got more out of seeing Noah Kahan and Hozier in 2023 than I did from the entirety of sessions with my therapist - and I loved my therapist. lol

Prior to 2020, I did a fair amount of traveling, and I hope to start doing a little more this year. But I have to admit, since the lockdown, I’ve become more of a homebody, and I like it, so we’ll see how that goes!

I used to be very involved with activism and advocacy for women’s, lgbtq+, and mental health issues. I still am, but in a different capacity than I was in the past. These issues require people fighting for them, and doing so has always been a huge part of who I am, but it can be draining, and burnout is real. I really reached the end of my rope. So, nowadays, I work as a volunteer for a couple local organizations that really mean a lot to me. I'm not involved in grassroots efforts or taking trips to talk to legislators as often, but I'm helping people on a smaller scale, and that still goes a long, long way.

22: BONUS - tell us anything you’d like (if you want to).

As most of you know, I’m one of the mods here at CFWC, so it was a little weird when my the wheel landed on my name. But, honestly, it’s happened before, and I've just spun again, even though I am eligible. But this time around, I decided to do it. This fandom really means a lot to me, and I wanted to share a little more about myself and my crazy pixelated people.

I'm truly grateful to everyone in the fandom who does their part to make this a place that many, like me, still see as a place they want to be. We're smaller, it's imperfect, it has plenty of problems, but I am choosing to focus on the good... because there is much more of that than there is bad. So, thank you to each of you... and I hope we all have a wonderful 2024! xo

PS... My header... I know Tobias wasn't technically an LI... which was truly criminal. So, that's what fandom is for, fixing what canon effed up. lol My favorite canon LI is Trystan Thorne (COP). I tried adding their picture to the header alongside Tobias, but it looked terrible, so here I am. :)

Thanks for taking the time to read this, and I can't wait to highlight more of you in 2024! :)

#choices fic writers creations #playchoices #choices the stories you play #cfwc creator of the month #jerzwriter #choices fanfic #playchoices fanfic #january creator of the month #open heart #crimes of passion #wake the dead

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