#i noticed one of them was deleted of ao3 so I have to searched it in ffn.net

[samtamdan]

Some of my favorite Tyzula fics

For @closetsof-backlogged-dreams

"Tyzula things" by EmberCartwright

"Azula's end" by mcdn11

"Puppy love and strawberry mochi" by arktikos

"Fate is cruel" by BeyondTheSea13

"Lost wishes" by FanfictionVillainess

"Midnight hours" by Nikkel

"The fire in my eyes" by huhyouexist

" A new way to remember " by holmesfreak1412

" Heartstop " by holmesfreak1412

[smninthisworldd]

- ͙۪۪̥˚┊❛ Injury ; König x fem!reader ❜┊˚ ͙۪۪̥◌

so, my books on wattpad got deleted. apparently, someone reported me. i’m trying to post all the stories here and on ao3, but it’ll take a bit of time. please be patient and bare with me. 🙏

PAIRINGS AND WARNINGS: König x fem!reader, fluff, falling in love, smut, oral sex, p in v, soft sex, gentle sex, friends into lovers, kisses, teasing.

CHAPTER: 1/2 ; NEXT CHAPTER

MASTERLIST

It was all a blur.

One minute I was shooting and killing our enemies, then I got shot and fell to the ground, unable to walk. I couldn't feel my left thigh anymore, and when I looked down at it, blood was spilling out of my wound.

I panicked, and tried to crawl away from more gunfire. I entered a building, making sure no one saw me, and crawled behind a high half wall. As soon as I was safe, I pressed my back against the wall and removed some layers off of me. I ripped the black shirt i was wearing underneath my bulletproof vest and used the fabric to press to my thigh, stopping blood circulation.

It hurt like hell, especially because the bullet was still trapped deep inside my thigh. A tear fell from my eye and down to my cheek, as I looked at my hands, covered in blood just like my gear and the floor.

«Fuck...» I groaned in pain, hitting my head to the wall.

«Blade!» König shouted through the comms, that was my code name. «Where are you?» I could hear his thick German accent, which I was really thankful for. My vision was starting to blur, but at least I had an excellent hearing.

«I... got shot...» I stuttered. «I can't walk, I'm in the.. third building to the left.»

«Scheiße (shit)! Hold on, I'm coming!» he said. «Stay with me, it's nothin'! You got this!»

«I'm soaked in blood... I need...» I let out a heavy breath, my voice cracking and my hands shaking. «Take me back... to the base...»

«Stay with me, Blade, please!» he shouted as he probably noticed my voice lowering its tone, as I also closed my eyes.

I wasn't replying, but heard heavy footsteps entering the building. I hoped it was König, but still, you never know. I quickly grabbed my gun and held it ahead of me, still shaky as hell. A tall figure appeared in front of me, and I did not realize it was actually him at first. My vision was blurry, my eyes filled with tears.

«It's me, Blade! Don't worry, I got you!» König kneeled before me and I let go of the gun, closing my eyes again.

He gently touched my thigh and I whimpered, as it hurt like hell.

«I'm sorry» he apologized. «Let me see, please.»

Though it felt horrible, König had to press on my wound in order to search for the bullet. «We must take it out now, before it... scheiße... before it gets worse!» His english wasn't collaborating, he was nervous. Bless him, he was so anxious.

He suffered from it when he was younger, he'd told me about it. Me an König had such a good friendship, actually. He found confort in me, whenever he was nervous or anxious about something. He would always come to me and talk to me, and I would listen to him for hours. He had just so much to say, and nobody was really ever there to listen, before me.

«I'm really sorry, Blade, but I need to... take these off.» he said, referring to my pants. «I have to take that verfickte (fucking) bullet out of there! I can't...» he stuttered. His voice was trembling and his hands were shaking on my thigh. I looked into his eyes and softly placed one of my hands on top of his.

«It's okay, König...» I whispered. «Just take it out so we can... kill these motherfuckers.»

«Is it okay if... I have to...» he mumbled.

«Just fucking do it already!» I shouted at him. I have never yelled at him before, and I felt kind of bad, especially knowing he was really sensitive under that intimidating and scary facade.

Without a word, he cut the improvised bandage made with my shirt and finally unbuttoned my pants gently taking them off. I saw him not moving for a moment, he just stared at my bare thighs before pulling out of his vest a mini first aid kit. He swallowed hard and opened it, grabbing some tweezers and a disinfectant solution. He sighed and proceeded to slowly dig into my thigh, causing my eyes to close shut and my spine to shiver.

I was losing a huge amount of blood, and König tried to be as gentle as possible with me. He wasn't talking anymore, and I realized it was probably because I scolded him.

«Fuck!» I cried out as he pinched my sensitive skin with the tweezers, without doing it on purpose. His hands were shaking and his breathing was heavy, he didn't dare to look at me.

He was focused on my wound and searched for the damn bullet. I continued to cry out in fucking pain, I couldn't stay still because of the pressure he was putting on me. I writhed under his hands, my hands lifting myself from the floor and my back arching as my head hit the wall again.

He aggressively pushed my hips on the floor with his knee, making me feel trapped under his enormous mass. I looked up to him but he didn't, still trying his best to reach the cause to my pain.

And finally, he caught it. He held it with the tweezers and sighed in relief before putting it aside.

He disinfected my injury, but it burned like hell and I couldn't help but scream in pain. He quickly cupped my mouth with his hand and finally looked into my eyes. Mine filled with tears as I kept groaning on his hand. «Quiet!» he scolded me, this time, with his raspy and aggressive tone. His grasp squeezed my cheeks a little as he continued to pour the disinfectant on my leg.

I grabbed on his forearm tightly, raising my hand on his bicep. I was crying and my breathing was irregular under the grip of his hand covering my mouth. I lifted my healthy leg creating myself a bit of support, placing my arms on my knee, but as soon as I did and my legs were a bit more open, I noticed König's eyes peered between them.

He quickly moved his gaze away and removed his hand from my face, squeezing his eyes while exhaling loudly. He then grabbed a sterile gauze and wrapped it tight around my thigh. He pulled on it two times and looked into my eyes. «Is this tight enough? Is it good?» he asked in a whisper.

I nodded and he cut off the excess. We both exhaled, relieved. I rushed into his arms for a hug. I placed my arms around the back of his neck and held him tightly. I really needed it. «Thank you.» I whispered in his ear. I felt his hands on my ribcage, gently moving towards my waist, a bit unsure. He then wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer.

A few moments later, he whispered: «Let's get revenge on these arschlöcher (assholes).»

…

I heard a knock at my door and when I looked towards it, König was standing there. «Can I?» he asked.

«Of course, come in.» I welcomed him into my room. He got rid of his gear and wore just his black shirt and cargos. I, on the other hand, was wearing just one of his oversized t-shirts, which he gave to me as soon as we arrived to the base. His scent was on it, and I kept smelling it.

«How are you feeling?» he sat on the bed and gently caressed my knee.

«A lot better, thanks to you, and the doctor.» He took me to the hospital before heading back to our base and the doctors stitched up my wound with six stitches.

I smiled at him as he looked straight into my eyes. I still had an apology to do.

«Konig» I positioned my hand on top of his, caressing it, «I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you earlier.»

He sighed and replied: «Don't worry about it. I know you were panicking in that moment, I understand.»

I smiled at him again and gently asked him a favor. «Could you close the door?»

He nodded and stood up to do so. When he returned to me, I gestured for him to join me in my bed, as we usually did. He lay down next to me and 1 cuddled up to his chest, leaning my head on it. He stroke my hair and pulled me closer, letting out a deep breath. My hand caressed his abdomen and draw small circles on him through his shirt.

It had been a while now that I was starting to realize that my feelings for him went beyond a simple friendship. I opened up about myself and he did the same, I knew him better that anyone else. I knew what a sweetheart he really was, how caring and loving he could be. I exhaled and I decided it was time for me to be truthful.

«König...» I lifted my head up on his chest to look at him. I was very shy around him, though he was the shy one, in reality.

He let out a soft «Mhm?» and looked at me, waiting for me to talk.

«I, uhh...» I mumbled. Fuck it. «I like you. I really do.»

He swallowed loudly and I felt his heart beating faster. He looked away and I thought to myself I fucked everything up'

His gaze returned to my eyes and he softly caressed my cheeks with both of his shaky hands. I lifted myself as best as I could and kept my eyes on his as I pulled his hood up, revealing his lips.

I stroke his sharp and defined jawline feeling the subtle beard on the lower half of his face. I then caressed his bottom lip with my thumb and he did the same with mine. Both of us were shaky as fuck.

«I like you too, y/n.» he said in a whisper that I barely heard. But I sure did. His lips created a smile that infected me, causing my lips to do the same.

His gaze fell to my smile and he finally pulled my face closer to his, kissing me.

He kissed me.

I couldn't believe it.

It all felt like a dream, a beautiful one. His soft and warm lips pressed against mine, his big hands still caressing my cheeks and my neck... goosebumps started running throughout my body. I instantly closed my eyes as our lips connected, and drowned in that heavenly kiss.

One of his hands soon moved down to my spine, wrapping around my body as our kiss intensified.

He tilted his head and grabbed on the back of my neck, causing my head to tilt, too. I leaned over him, and placed one of my hands on the pillow below him, the other one still stroking his neck and jawline.

Our tongues began touching, shy at first... and all of a sudden he started to slowly give me the most passionate kiss in my entire life. Out of all people I've ever kisses, no one was like König. No one compared to him.

Konig raised himself from the pillow he was laying on and towered me with his size, continuing to passionately kiss me as his tongue dominated mine. His hand still firm around the back of my neck, while the other one was gently grabbing and squeezing my waist.

I placed my arms on his shoulders and caressed his head through the hood, pulling him closer. Our kiss continued and, oh. My. God. I didn't expect that from him.

König began lowering his hand down my side, and gently grabbed on my healthy and naked thigh. I was wearing his shirt, but I couldn't wear any pants or shorts since my wound was still too fresh to be compressed.

He squeezed the soft skin of my leg and then he got up, pushing me to lay down on the bed. He lifted my thigh on his hip as he was now on top of me, his tongue still fighting against mine. He was so careful not to hurt my injured leg, which he didn't.

I pulled him closer, gluing his body to mine. I could feel his weight on me, but he made sure he didn't crush me. As my legs were quite spread under his body, his hips pushed towards my crotch, and I felt his... hardness pressing on me through the pants.

My face was burning hot, I was a hundred percent sure I was blushing like an idiot. My heart raced as his hand slid throughout my thigh and gently reached my - well, his - shirt, lifting it a little.

But then, he stopped. He lifted his head and pulled away from our kiss, leaving a trail of our saliva still connect us. I tried to reach for his lips again, but he gently pushed me back.

«Y/n... I don't know if...» he began, but his words soon failed him. «This is... We shouldn't...»

He started to move away, but I pulled him towards me and kissed him. He didn't stop nor backed away from it, so I guess he wanted it, too. This time, our kiss was much more aggressive, almost ravenous, as if neither of us wanted to leave the other's face.

He bought his hand back to my thigh, squeezing it harder than before, and forcefully pulling me towards him.

Konig placed his other hand back to the side of my neck, sending shivers all over my body. I felt his knee press in between my legs, which caused me a soft moan into his mouth. I didn't realize I moaned until his grasp tightened around my leg.

I pulled away from his face for a moment and looked into his eyes as he tried to reach back for my lips, this time. «You said we shouldn't, yet you're not leaving me.» I whispered.

«Fuck, I can't.» he breathed. «You have no idea what you're doing to me, schätzchen.»

I loved when he gave me German nicknames, he often did.

He kissed me back and caressed my thigh, lifting my shirt again. This time, he finally took it off and admired my almost naked body, taking a deep breath. His lips were glossy and red, also a bit swollen, and I could see his cheeks turn reddish, too. His eyes glared throughout my body, still covered by my underwear.

Konig shook his head and placed his hands on his eyes, sliding them on top of his head right after.

His anxiety was eating him alive, I could tell he was nervous. I lifted myself and gently sat on the bed, looking up to him. I caressed his waist and hips trying to reassure him, but that probably didn't help; instead, it made him even more nervous... and hard.

His pants were tight around the shape of his now rock-hard member. I thought I could make him relax a bit... but he just grabbed my wrists and threw me back down on the bed.

He pushed himself against my entrance, through the pants, causing me to groan softly. He began kissing my neck and that made me weak. At that point, I let him do whatever he wanted with me.

I grabbed on the back of his neck, digging my fingers inside his hood and feeling his hair. I gently stroke him under the mask, as he lowered his warm lips down my collarbone. My back arched towards him and he squeezed my waist, pulling my crotch closer to his.

I bit my bottom lip and moaned again as his lips were exploring my chest. His hand lifted from my waist straight to my back and he unbuttoned my bra, throwing it away. He seemed mesmerized by my naked breasts and took a moment to stare at them before feeling, touching and kissing them. I felt him sucking on my skin, leaving his marks all over me.

His wet tongue traced a path from my breasts across my abdomen to my lower belly. He reached the seam of my panties and looked up into my eyes.

«May I?» he searched for my consent.

«Yes...» I whispered, lifting my hips towards him. «Please, König...» I got a little too excited.

Hearing me beg for him probably only turned him on even more. And it also turned me on.

He let out a heavy breath, hooking his thumb into the side of my already wet panties and pulling them to the side to expose my soaked cunt to his eyes.

Using his index and middle finger, he parted my lips and began exploring me. I was a fucking mess already, wriggling and arching my back over nothing, and he seemed to enjoy it.

As his fingers were still keeping my lips spread, he stuck his tongue out and slid it on my clit. I flinched and moaned softly at the feeling of his warm tongue on me, but König soon gripped on my good leg to keep me still. He continued to stimulate me licking my cunt up and down, as his tongue collected my juices. He pulled his tongue back into his mouth to let the taste of me sit on it.

My eyes were glossy and felt heavy as I tried to look at him. He glared at me but soon returned to my intimacy after whispering a soft «Köstlich (delicious.»

He created circular motions on my clit that felt extremely good, I threw my head back unable to keep it on him. I arched my back and grasped tightly on the sheets, whimpering and squirming under his touch and stimulation. His hard tongue inflicted torture on me, but soon his mouth completely enveloped my clit, sucking and pulling on it.

How on earth was he so good at it?

I knew I wasn't going to last, I was too sensitive after a very long time not having this kind of treatment to please me. All I could do was moan loudly and let my body release my cum right into his mouth. He didn't even notice it, instead continued to give me pleasure despite my body starting to relax.

König was hungrily eating me out, and he seemed to be far from done. My inner thighs felt soaked around the lower half of his face, as he spread my legs a little more, carefully making sure my injured left thigh was okay. My dizzy mind, though, couldn't feel anything else apart from the extreme bliss König was causing me.

He removed his mouth for a moment and slid his middle finger inside of my hole, unsure of how to move. When I sensed his slight unease, I grabbed on his wrist and moved his hand in and out of me, soon leaving it to him. His finger started to search deep inside of me, stimulating my g-spot, that caused me to moan heavily.

König was a fast learner.

He was soon confident enough and added his ring finger, pushing both deeper. My legs were shaking at the overstimulation König was procuring me. My vision started to blur, my hands were grasping the sheets hysterically and my whimpers were getting louder and louder as his tongue returned to my clit.

I was going crazy, high of him. My heartbeat was pulsing in my throat, I've never felt like that. His head pressed between my trembling thighs, his tongue swirling around my most sensitive spot and his fingers digging deep inside my pussy.

His other hand was wrapped tight around my good leg, his nails began poking into my soft skin. I could already see the marks he left all over my body, starting from my neck and lowering to my legs. I wasn't able to speak clearly, just whimpers and pleasured groans coming out of my mouth.

König's fingers soon came out of me, drenched of my thick cum, and moved all the way up to my sore clit. He lifted my hips a little, placing his hand below my lower back and continuing to please me.

But I couldn't resist more.

«König...» I muttered, not able to finish my sentence. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to release everything I was holding inside of me. And so it was the second time König made me cum, with a loud orgasm. He collected my cum with his fingers and licked the rest of it from my cunt, swallowing it. He licked his fingers and when I looked at him, a trail of my sticky cum was connecting his two fingers and his lips. He then cleaned everything with his tongue.

Fuck.

Wow. Just, wow. I was breathless, my arms high above my head, my legs now closed and the sheets below me soaked in my wetness. Jesus Christ.

König approached me and gently caressed my waist, while kissing my neck. I knew he wanted more, and I did too, but... damn. I needed a moment to stabilize myself.

«How are you feeling, geliebte (sweetheart)?» he whispered. «Did I do a good job?» He dared to ask.

Catching my breath, I looked into his eyes and caressed his cheek. «I feel absolutely fantastic, König... you did fucking... perfect.»

He loved to hear that. I knew he needed reassurance and words of affirmation, so I praised him. He kissed my cheek and got back to my neck.

God, this man's stamina was by no means over yet.

I felt he could go on and on for hours, and we both really needed it. I could take him, I wanted to, I needed to. I desperately needed him to do the nastiest things to me, with me.

Konig began kissing my neck again, slightly biting on my skin, causing me to shiver and whimper softly. But I lifted myself up and pushed him away from my neck. I looked up into his eyes and as he walked away, I dragged him closer, pulling him by the waistband of his pants.

I felt his evident erection under my fingers, and I finally unbuttoned his pants, pulling the zipper down. This was going to be a long night...

~ smninthisworldd ; please do not copy.

[anantaru]

You think rape is funny? Maybe once you fucking experience it you won’t. Fucking cunt.

hello. so I'll just jump right into this. tw. discourse tw. mentioning r*pe.

@saetoru made this claim about me:

saetoru, could you add proof at least? i can not remember a time where i would repost a joke like that so i'd love for you to show me proof please, this is all I'm asking.

also how was it on your dash, on your own dash and @dottores dash, when you have never followed me? + but maybe it was the for you feature that was the same for the both of you.

accusing someone without proof is not okay, again, i can not remember doing this so if you have a screenshot add it so i can remember and apologize, but i can't do anything because i don't remember saying a joke with SA in mind.

before that i just want to mention: i don't think r*pe is funny, i'm not a dark content blog either so i do not really reblog dark content things because i'm sure most of my readers don't want that + I'm just not into that as well. the only joke i was "called out" for once is when i used a "i want xyz character to smack their laptop on my face or tits" which i got from an andrew garfield interview where he read his thirst tweets out loud, at that time i just deleted it because it's alright.

dottores, your mutuals, two of them to be exact, have sent me multiple of your personal blog hate posts about me and not once, have you made one where you talked about me saying an SA joke. you have only claimed that i am a cunt and that i am a gatekeeping bitch hence why i believed this must be the reason why you would suddenly hate me despite the fact we never interacted.

now, I want to address this next, this is from @dottores post which when i got it sent to me, i would've wished she just tagged me right away and said it with her chest, more so not let saetoru talk about her experience but just handle this with me.

^ this is cat @dottores saying i got it wrong.

^ this is why i believed she meant it just like i said it, why do you go through blogs that grow really fast's notes in the first place? where do you take the right to police other blogs like that when i'm sure your blogs aren't empty of blank blogs either. it is hard to get rid of all of them but i'm sure we all try at least, we don't need you to make us feel bad or come off as belittling, if you have found out a way to get rid of every blank blog, do enlighten us please.

+ at that time of this reblog icks?? post that saetoru added, my blog was blowing up so when a moot of mine (which was also theirs at a time) saw this, they had sent it to me.

"creators that grow really fast" and nowhere has she mentioned she only went through only her own moots notes, aside from that apologies but i still find this weird, i don't think you should invest so much time in other people's blog but this is my opinion.

this is the next thing she said:

i don't know if dottores meant me there but i have never once harassed you nor sent you hate anywhere, again you cannot just accuse me of stuff like that when you have also never reached out to me. The things i claimed about you guys in your callout, i have text messages of the person (your moot) who sent it to me.

but back again, the only thing i did do was block dottores on tumblr and then later ao3 when i saw you in tags, which you made fun of me for later:

also i got this ask that time:

"who blocks on ao3?" i do, ao3 is the platform i use the most so why is it funny when i use the block button? + i just like to point something out here, "they must've clicked to read and realize it was me" you can think that if you want i don't mind, but let me ask you this: i have seen you in tags hence why i was able to block you, but how did you notice i did? you can't see me in tags so surely you didnt click on my work, so you must've searched up my user for whatever reason?

and i know this is about me because she added the "this person called me chronically online" i couldn't find the post but what she was talking about is me calling other writers who reblogged that one "ick post" with not needed things such as "when writers cant characterize a character" or "when they only write headcanons", i have plenty of screenshots of that post but since i don't want to use up all my space here, i don't see why i should show their reblogs from this.

there were plenty of people like that, which reblogged horrible things there so i called everyone under that post chronically online, not just you dottores.

yeah :) like people making fun of someone for blocking them for their own comfort. i just don't want to see you, that's all, but i have never send you hate asks nor harassed you, the only thing i did was block the blogs your own mutuals exposed to me.

next:

^ this is after i felt bad for you after the callout.

this is coming from your own mutuals, i have never alone claimed you guys are jealous of me nor is there anything to be jealous about. i am just a blog, this here is not being popular, no one knows who i am and i do not need to pride myself in having a big blog on tumblr.com, and my readers know that. we are all the same here.

next:

i didn't mean you here saetoru but i understand that it sounded that way, the phrasing was a little off, for that i apologise that i made you upset with this, english is not my first language, i'm french, and when it comes to this callout post i was so fed up with it that i just posted it without looking for grammar mistakes etc. + this is about one of your friends who deleted their personal the second i announced i got their user, that was something with kaeya, when they sent me a hate ask. i won't expose it here but that person was also the one who blacklisted a friend of mine for liking itto.

i think there is a lot more but i will stop it there, this could've ended differently and i'm sad that it ended this way. I wish you all the best and i mean it, i hope we all can learn from this and move on, write on tumblr for our favorite characters because it's fun and stay away from drama. If you made it this far thank you 💓 — yoru

[elsa-fogen]

I love your art so much! I also really like your take on the RadioRose dynamic. Especially the "I want to try NOPE NEVERMIND" because its so relatable! Sometimes, you get curious, and then you remember the Horrors/Disgust.

Makes me wonder a bit about how Rosie "tried to rizz the unrizzable for 40 years" reacted intially to Vox also trying to do just that (just being much more pathetic and obsessive about it). Did she try to tell him he's chasing something nonexistent? If she was antagonistic to Mimzy at first, I can't imagine Vox getting more than 1 warning if that much lmao

Finally, a question - do you allow fics to be based off of your work if you are credited? And do you have an AO3 one could gift such works to?

Thank you so much 💖💖 About relatable - yeah i guess. Thanks to Alastor i'm more sure that I'm ace (and maybe aro as well) ahaha

At first Vox and Alastir were Just Friends, maybe first few years, but then Vox got crush on Al and Alastor suddenly started to feel uncomfortable around him. Rosie noticed that and understood what was happening to Vox (maybe even earlier that him vfdkjfjhdhhkfg) and told him that she and Alastor are married, just to protect Alastor from Vox's unwanted attention (and she still kinda hoped to rizz Alastor and make this lie a reality)

But in the end (when Vox discovered that it was a lie) she let Alastor to deal with Vox himself (i'm sure if Rosie handled that, they wouldn't hate each other now at least)

As for the question, i totally don't mind!! And i'd be really glad to read them!!! But you need to know, if you want me to read it, you need to give it to me anywhere else but AO3 because the damn site doesn't work in my country and using vpn is pain in the ass (it breaks other sites that work fine and makes my internet really slow). You can give me as pdf or in google docs, that's more convenient options i think.

I think i got an account there long time ago?? I'm not sure if it was AO3 tho. but it was inactive all this time anyway. If they don't delete inctive accounts, you can search for different variations of "Elsa Fogen" (like ElsaFogen or Elsa_Fogen) and if there an empty account that hasn't been active in past 6-8 years - that's probably mine djhfhfjdhhdf

(there's also a new site for fanfiction and it works for me but i'm not gonna make you make an account there just for me)

[olderthannetfic]

Just wanted to share an interesting musing: a friend and I at one point bemoaned how hard it is to find niche unhinged flavors of fanfic in newer fandoms (like "I spawned a crack treated seriously/horny af/goblin idea and I made it your problem" kind of writing) because it always feels like a lot of fanfic feel weirdly hallmark movie-esque (repressed? sanitized? family friendly?). And they wondered if its because of the rise of puritan/morality/censorship ideas in fandom. I had a lightbulb moment and said maybe it's also because fanfic tend to be posted in Big Main Sites (ao3, ffnet, wattpad?) instead of scattered into archives (or even personal blogs) that once existed. Could go on with the possible effect of having social media as your first internet thing and not grasping the concept of archiving and your own personal internet space (as social media doesn't reward you for that). But yeah, do kind of wonder if the weird hallmark vibe we get is both because of a fear of being accused of evil and the urge to be seen and praised in a one-sided competition against an ocean of writers.

--

Musing on fanfic anon pt 2: Also just generally that having nearly everyone yeet their fic in Main Fanfic Sites (in which! I am not complaining, as someone who has seen LJ and fics getting deleted but-) makes it just hard to sift through what you really want, even if you're using search functions in overdrive. Anyways musing over.

I think you'd have to define what goblin ideas you used to see more clearly because I can't tell what you're actually describing here.

I haven't noticed any particular change in the kinds of fic that astolat's buddies write. A lot of oldschool types, me included, always aspired to write basically sff novels but with more gay or romance novels about our blorbos. You know: professional-ish prose, coherent plots, etc. They might also be horny af and if our kinks are "weird", then the fics will be weird, I suppose, but only someone who's having trouble believing that anybody could really like that kink is going to see them as crack.

I used to see more "LOL, I wrote this on a sugar high!" type author's notes, but they were never big in the part of LJ that built AO3 and so they're not big on AO3 either.

The "I like hobbitses, especially when they touchessss each other" type fic is still mixed into the oldschool LJ stuff, just in the small proportion it always had. (Yes, I saw you all clicking on that in 2005 and pretending you didn't find it hot.)

I guess it really depends on what kind of unhinged you're looking for.

[i-can-read-to-him]

The Wesper Fic Club's Author Spotlight is a post series that aims to feature two to three fic authors a month, randomly selected from a pool of names put forth on our server. The authors are then asked to answer three interview questions, select up to five of their fics for us to feature, and finally, recommend three fics by others in the fandom.

(Note: Our spotlighted fics are not limited to Wesper, though they tend to be a central pairing in most of our authors' featured works.)

This week, we are putting a spotlight on Daydreams' writing!

Socials: @sixofcrowdaydreams (Tumblr) | Pen_n_Notebook (AO3)

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Part One: Author Interview

Q: What’s something you haven’t written yet, but want to write in the future?

A: Lol. My Wesper Big Bang story!  So I have a handful of fic ideas saved in a google doc folder, but one particular AU fic that tickles my interest is a Firefly AU. I’d love to write about the Crows in Space! Crows in the Wild West with a Cowboy aesthetic, sign me up!! Please say that someone sees the potential of this vision too. Thief and Information broker Kaz who captains a smuggling ship outside the reach of the government in the lawlessness of the border planets at the edge of space. First mate Inej who prefers a knife over a gun as she searches each planet to reunite with her family. Gun for hire Jesper outrunning his debts. And their three new passengers: companion turned spy Nina, former Alliance and current convict Matthias, and runaway Wylan with a talent for mechanical repair. Everyone on the ship has a reason for running. When their ship catches the attention of the Alliance, it’s anyone’s guess who the government is really chasing. It’s going to take all six of their skill sets to outmaneuver the most powerful organization in the universe.  There’s half a plot in my head already.

Q: What is one of your favorite scenes from the source material (book or show)?)

A: My favorite scene from the book is Jesper and Wylan’s trip to Saint Hilde. Everything about it it wonderful, from their hilarious, flirty wagon ride, to Wylan’s discovering his mother is alive and playing music for her, MVP Jesper keeping their disguises up and helping Wylan hold himself together long enough to meet Marya and get out, Jesper snatching a portrait of Wylan, and most of all, Wylan’s emotional breakdown on the dusty road as they leave. And Wylan’s backstory, his arrival in the Barrel and meeting Jesper at the tannery… that chapter owns my heart. It highlights Wylan and Jesper and is extremely angsty and emotional. Just everything I could want.  As for the show, my favorite is the Wesper deleted scene. Soft, domestic Wesper half undressed. Jesper soothing Wylan’s sad memories by giving him a place to belong and making him feel wanted. Complete devotion without any hesitation. Speed running a relationship just because it’s what they want so they’re going to pursue it. *sobs* They’re so beautiful.

Q: Tell us about something in your fics that you’re proud of and wish would get more notice. [Admin Note: Major spoilers below for Daydreams' Cinderella AU, To Live in Color!]

A: I am very proud of the foreshadowing and set up of plot points in To Live in Color. Multiple times the groundwork was laid several chapters in advance. And maybe this is just what writing is supposed to do, but I’m still quite proud of it. For example, In chapter 2 Wylan thinks about how absurd it would be to meet and fall in love with the prince. This was to prepare the reader by telling them there will be no prince in this Cinderella AU because that’s not Jesper’s role in this story. When the letters from Wylan’s mother were introduced in chapter 3, there is a line that says that Wylan will never know what the letters say. This isn’t because he can’t read them, it’s because the letters would be destroyed before he could ever find out. The vinegar Wylan uses to escape Prior and Miggson in chapter 7 was first introduced in chapter 3 to clean up after Alys’ morning sickness. Wylan also mentions getting it out after dinner in chapter 6 because Alys looks sick again. (She’s not, she’s just sad about Marlies leaving). Wylan never had the chance to put it away because he was beaten later that night. Therefore, it was laying out in his sight right before he uses it to escape in Chapter 7. There’s a few smaller moments too, but I’m very proud of building all of these events so that they didn’t feel rushed or unexpected.

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Part Two: Selected Works

To Live in Color

Explicit | 52K | Wesper Angst, Romance, Drama, Smut, Happy Ending

CW for abuse.

Wesper Cinderella AU Unable to become the merchant heir his father wants, Wylan grew up as a servant in his own house. Everything changes when Wylan sneaks into the masquerade ball and meets a handsome sharpshooter and the criminal crew he runs with carrying out a heist at the palace.

Reading WIP (Tumblr)

General | 550 | General Angst, Medical Trauma, Wylan’s Childhood

CW for nausea and (non-graphic) vomiting.

A snippet from a WIP about Wylan’s relationship with reading over the years.  Wylan should feel grateful, he supposes, that the physician’s latest attempt to cure his deficiency also dulls his appetite.

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Part Three: Author's Recs

Daydreams says: Because I only have one fic and a short snippet, I’ll share a longer recommendation list.

Of Bronze and Blaze by amagicbeyond

Mature | 166K | Wesper Drama, Romance, Book/Show Canon, Angst with a Happy Ending

CW for smut and addiction.

The Wesper-centric Shadow and Bone, Six of Crows spin off of the Ice Court Heist we deserve. Action. Adventure. Perfect melding of canons with some new twists. Tender Wesper and a whole lot of plot!

Deal with the Devil by LoneswaggingRanger

Mature | 8K | Wesper Hurt/Comfort, Past Trauma, Past Sexual Abuse, Whump

CW for implied/referenced rape/non-con, implied/referenced dubious consent, past sexual abuse, and past trauma.

Wylan assumes the Bastard of the Barrel wants more from him than just his skill with a chemistry set. After all, that’s what everyone else in the Barrel wants from him.  Wylan has a complicated relationship with sex. He still wants Jesper but… it’s complicated. An amazing gritty depiction referencing what Wylan’s survival in the Barrel entailed before meeting Kaz and how deeply it affects his new relationship with Jesper. 

And Sonatas in my Head by osco_blue_fairy

Explicit | 40K | Wesper Angst, Character Study, Canon Compliant, Eventual Romance

CW for smut.

Moments and missing scenes of Shadow and Bone told through Wylan’s perspective. My absolute favorite interpretation of the time between Wylan crawling out of the canal and meeting Kaz. And Wylan and Jesper’s steamy stroopwafel date. Excellent character and relationship study. 20/10 go read it now. 

you talk of the pain (like it's all alright) by The_Lady_King 

Teen | 5K | Wesper Angst, Character Study, Abuse, Ableism, 5+1 Fic

CW for child abuse and bad parent Jan Van Eck.

Author Summary: 5 times Wylan doesn’t feel safe, and 1 time he does.  Such a realistic portrayal of abuse and the fear it creates. Wylan slowly realizes his father’s behavior was never his fault, and it’s equally heart warming as it is heart wrenching.

Show Me Yours by poorlittlegreenie

Mature | 19K | Wesper Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Character Study, Relationship Study

CW for child abuse, addiction, and mild sexual content.

Jesper and Wylan both entered the Barrel with their own secrets and shames. Slowly, they can work through what those mean for themselves and each other while being in a relationship. A fabulous character study not only individually, but together as a couple and how their own anxieties and concerns for the other affect their relationship as they get to know each other better. Excellent characterization, world building, and a deeply satisfying ending. 

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Please support our authors by commenting and leaving kudos on any stories of theirs you read and enjoy! Don't forget to also reblog this post and check back soon for our next author spotlight to come.

Interested in joining our server and getting to know our community? Feel free to request an invite via the @i-can-read-to-him ask box.

[r-2-peepoo]

A pretty good list of the best Codywan fics you will ever read:

I recently noticed I had a very sweet ask about Codywan fics recs but I didn’t realise saving drafts of ask replies wasn’t an option so I accidentally deleted it. If you are the lovely anon who sent that message on (I believe) the 29th of October, I’m sorry for not seeing it sooner, and here is a list for you!! A definitely-not-comprehensive guide to Codywan fics because I'm actually only a few months into shipping them myself. These are just some of my favourites.

I mainly read modern AUs but I’ll try and come up with a good variety so hopefully, there’s something for everyone. Also I’ll @ the writers who have accs on here because they deserve all the praise and credit in the world (but do let me know if you’d prefer to be untagged!!)

Modern AUs

An incredibly sweet oneshot featuring Teacher!Cody hosting a parent-teacher conference and a very overwhelmed Obi Wan trying his best to raise Anakin. The characterisation of Obi Wan in particular just makes my brain go brrrrrrrrrrrr because it reminds me of how he's written in the canon novels, as in you get to see a side of him that isn’t so polished and held together. The most unconventional yet adorable meet-cute ever. I have read it many many times.

THIS FIC. Oh my gosh. I've read it three times so far and I just adore it. It's an AU based on the movie Happiest Season (although I personally think this fic is far better than the movie). I'm always here for Christmas fics and they're always quite hard to find in my experience and yet here is this absolute gem, heavy with plot and drama and the most wonderful use of canon characters and dynamics.

I've spoken about this fic by @kckenobi before and I will do it over and over until everyone on earth has had the privilege of reading it. This is, without a doubt, the best fanfiction I've ever read. I can say that definitively. My recommendation for this would be to download the playlist that goes along with it. There's a link in the notes of the final chapter. Ngl I have Apple Music so I had to individually search for each song and add it to a playlist but it is beyond worth it. Aside from the writing being phenomenal, listening to the songs while reading is honestly life-changing. I have such a soft spot for classical and orchestral music and when I tell you you won't be able to look at any other fic without thinking about what a magical experience this one was, I'm not lying. The Codywan is quite minor compared to the rest of the plot but it is incredibly sweet and feels very natural. This is great if you like Obi Wan-centric fics.

This one is very special to me because it was one of the first fics I ever read in the fandom. This author (I don’t think I can tag them but their user on here is the same as their ao3) in general has been integral to my Codywan journey and there's so many of their works I've had the pleasure of following the publication of in such a short amount of time. Another unconventional meet-cute, which just seems to be a trope that suits this ship down to the ground.

But my personal favourite fic of theirs is Natural Wonders, a Photographer!Cody and Park Ranger!Obi Wan au, because I followed the publication of it from start to end and it was an absolute blast. This author's work ethic is unparalleled. Just take a look at the range of fics they've written. It's seriously impressive. Truly one of the best writers to begin with if you're new to the ship because they've done so much. You’ll be able to find basically any genre you like the most and every single one is insanely well written.

This fic is so sweet that reading it will rot the teeth right out of your head. This is by the wonderful @legobenkenobi who is not only the loveliest person ever, he is also a remarkable writer. Cody and Obi Wan work in a library together, Obi Wan comes in with a cat, which belongs to neither of them, out of absolutely nowhere one day (which is the most in-character thing I’ve ever heard) and the fluff ensues from there. While you’re there, read everything else he’s written because every single fic should be put in a museum.

Canon Compliant/Divergent

Cody and Obi Wan get married by accident. It sounds lighthearted and funny, which it is a little, but it also feels like hugging a thousand knives at once. This author manages to capture the painful longing between the two men that would be present in the canon-verse. It's under 1k words and yet they manages to inflict so much pain so quickly. There's something so delicate about the way they write and it's such a poignant, heartwrenching take on what is usually used as a solely comedic trope. I don’t read angst that often but every word of this was beautiful.

This fic is just... I can't even describe it. It's so in-depth. I feel like you really get to experience the Star Wars universe here. There's so many characters that are usually underutilized in fics, but not here. It features blind Obi Wan and how this affects his experience as a Jedi and as a General. It’s tactful and magnificently written. You really get to go on an adventure with the characters and it's so rich in plot and follows the actual plot of parts of Clone Wars but with such a unique perspective added. The story just slots so nicely into canon. I don't want to spoil too much but it's such a fascinating take on Obi Wan's character. Also!!! It explores so many relationships that canon itself neglects to. My personal favorite other than Codywan is Obi Wan's interactions with Ahsoka. This is still an ongoing fic so get in while you still can. You won't regret it, I promise.

This is also one of quite a few times where I've been a fan of someone's work before joining Tumblr, only to realise after following them that I've been reading their work for ages. @foreverchangingfandomsao3 you are immensely talented. Thank you for writing such an immersive story. I am in love with your take on Obi Wan.

This is another ongoing fic by the lovely @farores-oak-tree. It's a post-order 66 fic and it's so so so good so far. Other than Codywan's inevitable reunion, what I love the most about this is how it uses its other characters. Sabé features heavily and I always wanted to see her again so this was a delightful discovery. Again' I don't to spoil too much because its still being posted but there is such an interesting use of canon events. It's been so much fun so far so please give it a read if you like post-order 66 Codywan. This could be the plot of Kenobi S2 and I would completely believe you. It's so good.

This is another fic I read and absolutely loved and then started following the person who wrote it on here without realising. @frostbitebakery is behind this particular work of art. This is a Sith!Obi Wan AU and honestly it’s the only one you’ll need. I really love the way it’s structured and I don’t know if this makes sense, but this author has something about their writing style that is so careful and distinctive and you can see that same style coming through in their art style too (seriously, have a look at their art, it’s absolutely insane). It’s so detailed and you can feel how much time was spent on it. Such a delight to read.

Another recommendation of a work I’d been subscribed to who I think is actually written by a mutual of mine. I’m not certain about that but regardless, I can’t begin to express how much I love it so far. It’s another ongoing fic. I have a thing for fics that detail how Cody and Obi Wan first meet because canon does nothing to show this. If it turns out this is actually how they met and how things unfolded for them, I would completely buy it. It just suits them so much. It feels so true to their characters. It’s so natural and it flows so well. I could read a thousand chapters of this.

I could recommend so many others but these are the ones I always think of when people ask for recommendations. I think I put the usernames of everyone who has an account on here but I’ll keep looking in case I missed anyone. I’ve been in a lot of fandoms but I genuinely mean it when I say Codywan authors (and artists) are the most accomplished I’ve ever seen.

[amethystina]

Fanfic Tag Thingie

I am choosing to be tagged by @miss-ingno because this sounded like fun and I need an escape from the realisation that I am literally on the edge of burnout and my life is a mess. So here we go! :D

How many works do you have on AO3?

76

What's your total AO3 word count?

2 237 636

... and I have around 200k more just sitting in my WIP folders. I can't write short things x'D

What fandoms do you write for?

Right now it's mainly various Kdramas (The Devil Judge, Black Knight, plus my bold venture into Strangers From Hell) but, before that, it was mostly The Losers, Marvel, Pacific Rim, and Teen Wolf. With the occasional detour here and there.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Who Holds the Devil (The Devil Judge, Gahan) at 3 390

Tech Support (MCU, Winteriron) at 3 217

Autonomy (MCU, Winteriron) at 3 137

I Won't Hold My Breath (MCU, Winteriron) at 2 914

Conflict of Interest (MCU, Winteriron) at 2 173

It's honestly a little wild to me that Who Holds the Devil has somehow managed to race to the top despite the other fics being at least four years older (sometimes more). And for a much bigger fandom, at that. You guys are not fucking around.

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do! Every single one if I can, though it can sometimes take a while before I get to all of them. And I just can't help it, I guess? Partly because I want to show that I've read the comment and appreciate the time and effort that went into writing it, but also because it often gives me an opportunity to talk about my writing and the choices I made in the fic.

And, apparently, the fact that I reply to all comments has become a bit of a thing at least when it comes to Who Holds the Devil, where readers will search through my replies looking for tidbits and extra information about the fic, characters etc.

(you guys are so weird and so dedicated and I love all of you xD)

What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Grief (The Losers (Comics)). Because it is, predictably, about grief and how to keep living after someone you love has died. Though I would argue that the ending has a hint of hopefulness to it since it's also about moving on from said grief?

But yeah. Definitely that one since it's Major Character Death that I choose not to fix.

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

Literally every single fic except for the one above xD I LOVE my happy endings, okay? And it's kind of difficult to rank them since it depends a lot on the setting, characters, and the personal preference of the reader.

Heck, I even managed to give my Strangers From Hell fanfic a sugary sweet happy ending! That's dedication right there!

Do you get hate on fics?

Yeah, from time to time. I've gotten everything from childish insults calling me a bad writer to backhanded comments questioning my choices, writing style, grammar, spelling, dedication, intelligence, etc. I've even received more targeted, personal hate where people I thought I could trust were making fun of me behind my back in private chat rooms.

Most recently, though, it's less hate and more the "I simply must tell you that you're not writing this fic as I want you to write it" type of deal. Often paired with "It's my personal opinion and I have every right to express it." Which, fair enough. But that means I get to do the same, which I've noticed is something those kinds of commenters kind of hate. Especially when I point out that they've now made me a lot less keen to write the fanfic they're supposedly so fond of.

Turns out people don't like being reminded that their actions have consequences.

All in all, though, I've learned to just delete the comments I find too offensive or hateful.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Oh god no. Sex scenes are the bane of my existence and I spend the entire time writing them looking like this: ლ(ಥ益ಥლ)

I've been told I'm not bad at writing them (the ones in Until Death Do Us Unite were quite appreciated) but anything involving sex or sexual tension is just a nightmare for me. Even more so when it's supposed to be kinky or extra spicy.

So why is one of the main ships I write for right now clearly a Dom/sub ship, you ask?

Because I'm an idiot. That's why.

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

I rarely do. The only crossover I've written is Resurrection where Derek Hale ends up in Purgatory together with Dean Winchester and they fight their way back to the world of the living (so Derek replaces Benny, basically).

I also have this one random fic (yet unposted) where Tony Stark and Eddie Brock are a couple (from the MCU and Venom movies, that is). But they're technically both in the Marvel universe so I'm not sure if that counts?

Long story short, crossovers aren't really my thing. I rarely write or read them.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of, no.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have! Several, in fact, from various fandoms. Mostly into Russian, Spanish, or Mandarin. And I am honestly so flattered every time someone asks me if they can translate one of my fics 💜

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have not, no. I made plans to write a fic with a friend once, but we never got to the point of actually writing it. And, in all honesty, I think that might be just as well. I'm a perfectionist and writing a fic with me would probably be very exhausting for the other party xD

What's your all-time favourite ship?

I really don't know. Like, I'm tempted to say Jensen and Cougar from The Losers, or maybe Destiel or Stony, but I think that's partly founded in comfort and nostalgia. My ships change as I do and I really can't pinpoint an all-time favourite.

But CURRENT favourite? Definitely Kang Yo Han and Kim Ga On because they present such a wonderful challenge to someone like me, who loves to go real deep into character motivations, behaviour etc. They're a delight.

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

I'm not sure. I plan to finish all the ones I've started posting but there might be some in my folders that I'll decide to abandon if I truly can't revive my interest in them. But, usually, I can.

And, speaking of that, to all my MCU peeps (if there are any of you still out there): I know you've waited six years for the Tech Support sequel but it's finally been written and just needs to be edited. It's coming, my darlings. I promise.

Basically, when I say I'll do something, I will do it — even if it takes me six goddamn years, apparently x'D

What are your writing strengths?

Characters, tone, and emotions. I'm good at capturing the essence of the characters and write them in a way that feels believable and close to canon. I'm also really good at making people feel things with my writing, I've been told. According to testimonials, my readers can often see what's happening play out inside their heads like a movie, and feel the characters' emotions as they're living through them.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Aside from the aforementioned sex scenes? I think it's my inability to keep things short. I use a lot of unnecessary words and could definitely get better at being more concise. In a similar vein, I sometimes focus so much on the details with lengthy, wordy descriptions that I accidentally forget about the big picture, which is understandably confusing to my readers.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I've done it from time to time (since my man Cougar speaks Spanish) but I'm pretty careful with it. And if it's longer sentences I always make sure to double-check with a native speaker.

First fandom you wrote for?

Teen Wolf! Which, admittedly, was because I didn't care if I fucked it up x'D I enjoyed the first two seasons of Teen Wolf, make no mistake! But I chose it mainly because it wasn't the ship I was the most emotionally invested in and so I figured it wouldn't feel as bad if it turned out that I sucked. Luckily enough for me, I didn't xD

Favourite fic you've written?

Just like with the all-time favourite ship, I'm not sure if I can answer this one. Because I like all of my fics but in different ways.

I'll always have a fondness for that first huge Teen Wolf series I wrote, for example, and had a lot of fun with Autonomy because of the world-building. Same goes with Hyperborean. But Who Holds the Devil is definitely my favourite when it comes to character work. While Allies is my favourite when it comes to tone, since it ended up just the way I wanted it to. And Until Death Do Us Unite was an absolute BLAST because I got to write horror and some really weirdass shit, which I've never done before.

So, truly, I can't say. Each one I've written has something I cherish and while some definitely stand out more than others, I wouldn't be able to just pick one.

___

And that's that! I tag whoever wants to do it! :D

[papal-babygirl]

the body is mostly blood

well. i became severely sad after brisbane, so i made everyone's favorite whump ghoul get sad as well. aether's dead, copia might be soon, and little dewdrop isn't coping very well.

also no. i dont want to talk about the fact that this is 10k words. just be grateful it is.

read on ao3, or continue below

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Dew should be in the mood for celebrations. Everyone else seems content to be, Aurora excitedly searching up the hottest nightclubs in Brisbane, flicking through hair colors for her glamour while Phantom peers over her shoulder to offer his advice. Cirrus is leaning back into Cumulus' chest, breaths whistling softly through her angelically parted lips as she dozes. She'll join the new kids, and she'll swear she didn't have a nap on the bus. No one will say anything against it, lest she invite them to her room for apologies back at the Abbey. Mountain has taken up residence around Rain's lithe body, nose buried in his hair as Rain's tail wraps around Mountain's wrist. They sway with the movement of the bus, and to some little tune they're sharing with Rain's headphones. Swiss is deep in a low conversation with Copia, probably talking about some vintage whiskey he'd like to share with his Papa and see where the night takes them.

So that just leaves Dew. Back of the bus alone, noise cancelling headphones on, listening to the loudest, angriest music he could find. He'd gone through the effort to put it on his phone after it managed to disappear from the Internet— he might as well listen to the fucking thing. He has his phone open to his texts, cursor blinking at him as he indulges in his worst habit.

A conversation stares up at him, a few months old now, long discontinued. A conversation with Aether.

Aeth 🖤

Haha you know I got you babe

Dewbug 💧

you are the wind beneath my wings 🕊️

It's the last thing he ever sent to Aether, or rather the last thing Aether ever read. There's a wall of messages from over the past months, none of them sent, and certainly none of them received. Telling Aether how much he's tried to hate Phantom, as if it would bring him back. How the little shit managed to worm his way into some small portion of the hole Aether left. The sheer amount that Sunny would have clicked with Aurora, two little fireballs of energy and life. How his day had gone, how tour was going, little things that made Dew remember him. And every now and again, breathless, sobbing messages, barely legible because Dew couldn't get his hands to stop shaking.

He types out a message a few times and deletes it, like this isn't just some masochistic diary. Eventually he just starts typing and sending before he can even think, and then thinks about throwing his phone out the bus window.

Tour finished tonight. I know how much you loved this country. How much you loved this world. I wish you could have seen this crowd, shit. It just gets bigger every time.

I'm sorry I never stopped missing you.

I'm sorry about the hole left in my chest. The new kids don't deserve it. They're so young and full of life.

You would have been so proud of Phantom. He handles that fucking Fantomen better than either of us ever did, sorry to say.

Copia called himself frail, the fucker. Watched that sea of phones go up, like it's a game to them. Maybe it is. Maybe they don't realize.

Well I mean he stuck a fucking ice cube down his pants, I can't blame them for wanting to keep that forever. 

Satanas, I hope I keep him forever.

Dew presses his forehead against the window of the bus, rattling his skull in a way that's perversely satisfying as the bus rounds a corner. When they arrive at their hotel, a sleepy little collection of cabins he's heard a couple locals — and Mountain — call a caravan park, he makes his way to his room without even so much as a goodnight to everyone else. He has no idea if anyone else notices, but he hears and promptly ignores Copia's soft voice calling after him. He just can't tonight, just can't face pity and look into those sad eyes and pretend like he isn't scared out of his mind.

He's similarly distant at the airport, hood drawn up and sunglasses shielding his eyes. Everyone else has a pounding headache from the celebrations, Dew just can't handle the idea of being witnessed. He sits apart from the group when they get to their gate, ready for that long haul back to Stockholm and wishing he could let some of his glamour slip. He feels itchy and cooped up, and maybe if he could soothe the spade of his tail like a kit does, he'd feel a little better.

But as kind as Copia is about their forms, that's a step too far. It's not like Dew is going to do anything to face the wrath of the Ministry, certainly not now, so he just contents himself with knowing he's got a few good months of letting his wings free coming up soon. He's sat beside Copia, to his infinite dismay and his eternal delight. Their hands stay tangled under the blanket the whole flight, as few words are exchanged between them. Neither feel like talking much, and Copia spends about half the trip snoring away anyways. 

The Abbey welcomes them like a parent awaiting the empty nest to be filled again for the holidays, warm and insistent but also a little bittersweet. Everyone knows it is not meant to last. As Copia gives his first sermon back to a rapt group of Siblings, worn lines gracing the curves of his face, Dew has to leave Black Mass halfway through for the first time in his infernal life. There's something in the way the light hits Copia's face that makes him seem as frail as he toyed with being on stage, tired and beaten down. Hopefully his Unholy Father can find some way to forgive him the transgression. He presses a kiss to the icon of Asmodeus on his rosary and makes a silent promise to the Saint of Hell that he won't whine next time he's asked to deal with the hundreds of candles in the chapel.

As he walks, his legs carry him on well worn paths, ones he remembers walking with dewier skin and a younger heart. The ever so slightly disastrous state of the garden calls to him, whatever little mote of water that remains between his ribs aches to help Mountain fix it the way he used to, even though the earth ghoul is still kneeling piously in the pews. The autumnal shade of the oaks lining the gothic courtyard remind him of years past, chasing after the love and affection of other Papas, and losing those just as easily as his beauty earned them. Dew ends up back in the dormitories, looking up with a start when he realizes he's at the place that hasn't been his room in years. It's the one he shared with… Satanas, he can't remember their name anymore. Back when he was still craving Secondo's attention, the little siren that he was.

Dew shakes off the memories and heads back to his own room, but not before passing Copia's door. It's obviously unoccupied, but there's a little pull from deep in Dew's gut that begs him to change that. He makes to continue towards his chambers, but he gets about three steps before doubling back and trying the doorknob tremulously. It gives— Copia had a terrible habit of leaving doors unlocked behind him. 

Copia’s room is a monument to his simple tastes, to the luxury of small things. It’s nowhere near as lavishly appointed as Terzo’s room was; there’s no sumptuous silks and fine rare dyes here, no gilt kissing the corners of everything. And it’s certainly not the somber elegance that Secondo surrounded himself in, high pile velvet that swallowed all light and sound until the room felt almost claustrophobic. No, it was about as breezy and light as the old Abbey could manage, windows perpetually open to let in the smell of fresh cut grass, or the breeze off the lake, or the sick-sweet rot of leaves as Dew notices now. The window is a panoply of cool colored diamonds of stained glass, casting a mottled glow onto the floor and on his arms that reminds Dew of hot summer days in the lake, of flirting with Mist as they ducked through the cool waters together and let their bodies twine in ecstasy. 

Dew crawls into the butter soft sheets, the delicate cream color feeling like it’s going to be sullied by his presence. He can’t call to mind the country of origin, though it sounded fancy when Copia decided to treat himself after a long tour with one too many scratchy sheets. Dew didn’t pay much attention, his thoughts were occupied otherwise as Copia ordered the sheets with one hand idly petting away between his horns. The little ghoul crawls into the divot formed by Copia’s body and buries his sensitive nose into the place where his head rests nightly. It’s an explosion of love that blasts the blackened char of his heart into a thriving, burning core again. It’s vanilla and jasmine, the first kiss of spring after a winter of using the powers forced on him to keep the Abbey’s residents warm, that very first time a timid Cardinal looked his way and said that he didn’t know if Dew would want the compliment, but that he was looking very nice today. (He hadn't been, he had smoldering sticks in his hair from where he'd dived into a bush to capture one of the Cardinal's rats.)

He delicately tangles his fingers up in the sheets, careful not to pierce or snag them with his claws, and curls up tight. The sensations in the room are all he can focus on; the ambient chatter from Siblings and ghouls alike that sings through the unhallowed halls, the decaying smell of the book glue holding together Copia's beloved and very old copy of the Malleus Maleficarum, the taste of his own bile on his tongue as tears rise unbidden to his lashes. Dew lets a few of the tears fall to the pillow, sullying the fine fabric with his own weakness. He barely notices the acid clang of the chapel bells ringing to signal the end of Black Mass, though when the door clicks open he shoots up guiltily, ears pinned back.

"Papa, I didn't, I-" His voice cracks from disuse, and Dew realizes then how little he's been around his pack since they got back. He slinks off to bed before anyone retires, has shrugged off invitations to movie nights and even brushed off Mountain when he was invited to spend some time in the greenhouse. He'd just needed his space, right?

"No, no, tesoro mio, you know you're always welcome. But I noticed you slip out of Mass, and you’re never absent from Mass.” Copia comes and sits on the bed, depressing it slightly. He puts a hand between them, bridging the gap in a way that leaves Dew the power to make the choice to reach out. Dew watches guiltily as his gloved fingers stroke idly along the grain of the fabric. His whole body screams at him to reach out, to make the connection, but he can’t make his arms move from where they’re wrapped around his wan frame. Trembling fingers soothe along the scars on his ribs where his gills used to be, and Copia moves his hand to Dew’s knee. “What prompted you to leave, Dewdrop?”

“I haven’t.. I haven’t been okay for a while, Papa.” Dew admits, voice low like a confession. Forgive him, Unholy Father, he knows full well what he’s done. “I can’t…” His voice clicks as more tears spill over his cheeks. He brings his knuckles up to brush the tears away, but they're interrupted by the soft kiss of leather as Copia catches the tears on his own fingers.

"Take your time, mio amato." Copia scoots a little further onto the bed, and in a flurry of hot limbs, Dew launches into his arms. He lets out a soft oof as he catches Dew, sinking a hand into the tangle of his hair. Dew paws at Copia's shirt for a lifeline, sobs shuddering his whole body.

"I can't lose you. I can't lose anyone else." Dew whispers hoarsely all in one breath, until he takes in another gasping breath and the tears fall heavier. He didn't think there was so much water left in his body. Copia tuts gently and strokes down each knob of Dew's spine, a soothe he discovered after Dew had his first panic attack under Copia's care. It had happened after that very first show where he was on lead guitar, with a body that felt alien and shouldering more responsibility than he could manage. The show had gone off without a hitch, but Copia had found Dew a sobbing mess on the floor of the dressing room. He'd stayed there longer than the venue really wanted, but it didn't matter. Copia was determined to stay until his ghoul was alright.

"You aren't going to lose me." Copia murmurs back, rubbing the thin space between Dew's shaking wings. The little fire ghoul whimpers piteously, claws sinking into Copia's shirt before he realizes with a gasp what he's done. "No, no, you're alright. It's just a shirt." He soothes, voice low and sonorous.

"Aeth said-" Dew can't finish the sentence, but Copia figures out rather quickly what his ghoul is implying. He knows well of the bond between the two, and how much it had pained Dew to have it severed. When the Ministry came to collect its assets, to recoup the loss of a very taxing new quintessence ghoul to summon, Aether had gone with a grace the barbaric act hardly deserved. But he'd not been given the choice to explain to his mates, or to even say goodbye. It was sudden, jarring, and Copia had been there to support Dew while he delivered the worst news to his pack that anyone could fathom.

"I know. I know it must sound like an empty promise. But who could take me away from you?" Copia says gently, pushing his hand under the hem of Dew's shirt to stroke the furred base of Dew's tail. "I would fight the forces of Heaven and Hell to keep you in my arms." 

"Who could take you away? The same people who took Aether, Sunshine, your brothers, Alpha, Omega, Ifrit. Should I go on?" Dew pulls back to look at Copia incredulously, tear tracks burned into his cheeks. He looks over Copia's face, takes in the life worn into his features, the freckles that Dew himself has kissed over after a night of passion. "You said it yourself, Papa, you said that you're frail. Your time is up soon. And you can tell me that some of it is toying with your flock but-" Dew cuts himself off with the memory of their arms wrapped around the others waist on stage, as Dew did his best to not look utterly besotted with his Papa. I love you, little man. Saints, the words ring in his head even now. How it thrilled his chest to be publicly declared worthy of the unholiest love he knows, how bittersweet the finality of it all felt on his tongue. "How am I supposed to know that when I wake up, you'll still be here?"

"I think you'll just have to trust me." Copia sighs, fingers still rubbing the little patch of fur that graces the transition from human to beast, from glamour to ghoul. "I know it is an impossible task."

"No. Trusting you is easy. It's the world I can't rely on." Dew rubs the tears away, a low purr kicking up at the gentle pets to his trembling body. His heart rate is starting to slow, that infernal core cooling off to a glowing coal. The panic takes a backseat to the fact that Copia is here, in his arms. For right now, whatever comes next is immaterial. 

"Then let me be your world, and rely on me." Copia breathes, pulling Dew into an achingly tender kiss. Dew can still smell the incense from Mass clinging to his hair, with that undercut of jasmine and salted tangerine from his cologne. That all too familiar scent is safety to Dew, it's love, it's home, it's hope. No matter the bouquet of pheromones that his pack has for him, it's never quite this combination. He would know Copia by this alone, by the brush of uncalloused fingers on his cheek, by the sound of rushing blood through his veins rather than ichor. 

The kiss finally lets Dew relax, wings drooping heavily as all the tension leaches from his body like his namesake evaporating in the heat of a summer morning. He's cried himself into emotional exhaustion, and now he just wants to be touched. He's tired of shutting himself off, tired of being on the outside of the pack, tired of being scared and wounded and crawling off to die alone like a cat. Copia pulls him closer, a low whine building in his throat that makes Dew crave him deeper than he ever thought possible.

"I love you." Dew pants when they both pull back for air, foreheads pressed together as Dew feels leather-clad hands exploring the familiar pathways of his body. His horns press softly against Copia, that eternal reminder of how different they are at their cores. "I've never- you.. I don't think I'll ever love like this again." Copia hums softly and kisses the corner of Dew's mouth, drawing him back in like the tide. 

"Maybe not. Maybe you will." Copia leans back slightly, bringing a hand up to his teeth to pull the glove off. Perhaps he doesn't notice how it makes all the hair on Dew's body stand on end, perhaps he notices and doesn't care, because he does it to the other one, clasping the gloves in one hand and gently tossing them to the desk where they land limply. His fingers are impossibly warm and soft as they come back to grace Dew's imperfect form, well manicured nails scraping ever so slightly. "All that matters to me is loving you here and now."

"Then love me. Love me fully." Dew begs, a whine creeping into his plea. But Copia isn't deterred by the vulnerability, isn't scared off by Dew's infernal ache. He pushes into the soft curve of Dew's jaw, leaves painted kisses there as he slowly pulls the shirt off that Dew stole from Mountain some years back. It hangs off him like a tunic, but no one could deny him whatever he wanted, considering he looked so loved in the oversized garment.

Perhaps it isn't wise to seek to heal this hurt with sins of the flesh; Dew recognizes this. And there is more yet to do to banish this pain from his mind, his soul, and perhaps truly it will never be gone. There is always going to be an indelible mark that the ones who are no longer here make on his pitch-heart, carve their name in hellish runes on the very surface of his obsidian bones. And in time, he will learn to live with this. In time he will wear the names of the departed with pride, and love, and welcome new names and new loves to become part of him. For right now, though, he is as shattered porcelain, begging to be put together anew. Changed by the process, but once again whole.

Dew sinks his claws into Copia's shirt again as his Papa's lips travel lower, kissing over his prominent collarbones, and up to the faded scars from his gills. Dew had tried to open them up once, a year or so after his transition. A delusion grabbed hold of his shattered psyche, convinced him that the beautiful creature he used to be lay still underneath the surface, needing to molt to become himself again. It was Aether who found him, fingers stained black with the effort of his pain, shaking and sobbing and woozy from blood loss. It was Aether who used his fledgling powers, tripping on the unsteady legs of a newborn deer to knit flesh back together again. And it was Aether who convinced him that he was beautiful any and every way he was, and that the cruelty of the powers that be was in no way his fault. 

The Ministry moved in mysterious ways, sometimes bold and striking declarations from Sister Imperator, and sometimes people unbeknownst to even Copia would show up and demand things of he who should be the highest power. It always unsettled Dew, made him feel as if Copia was little more than a dancing monkey, a figurehead puppet who they could shove in front of the yearning masses, who could take the fall when culture came to bite back. It was Copia, of course, who takes the blame for introducing the devil back into the 'good, Christian world'. Copia, of course, who takes the blame for corrupting youths by daring to imply that they should be loved as they are. Copia, of course, who is at fault for wanting his flock to feel and touch and love and fuck as much as their desires told them to, for what could be more human?

"Should I just take this thing off, eh?" Copia says with a smile, eyes flicking down to the long claw marks in the dog-collared button down. It only strikes Dew then that he probably came back to his room to get changed after Mass, only to find a very sad and vulnerable little ghoul in his bed. 

"Oh, I.. I didn't mean to-" Dew shrinks away from all the points of contact with Copia, only to have it chased right back as Copia slides his arms around Dew.

"It's just a shirt. Dime a dozen, dolcezza." Copia squeezes Dew gently, fingers finding scars with featherlight touches. The ones he's given himself, the ones inflicted on him, all fall away to nothing under Copia's careful touch. It's as if he's made anew. "Help me get out of it?" He doesn't need help— it's become tatters— but he wants Dew to unfurl, wants him to feel this. Dew plucks at the buttons gingerly, one by one, until he can push the shirt to the floor.

Dew takes a moment to regard the one he loves, the incrementally graying chest hair, his softness, the beautiful fallibility of his mortal flesh. He'd only started to notice Copia's temples going gray this most recent tour, and it was certainly fuel for the fire that was his anxiety. But in the objective sense, it granted him a handsome gravitas Dew couldn't deny. From the way his flock would cheer when he promised to fuck the crowd, it would seem that he wasn't alone in that opinion. Shaking claws reach to stroke along Copia's sensitive sides, and Dew watches with rapt attention as his perfect stomach twitches with barely contained laughter.

"You know I'm ticklish there, don't you?" Copia asks with a smirk, though both of them know that he is. "And yet the touch persists, how cruel of you." Dew finds himself smiling ever so slightly as he shifts and pushes Copia down to the plush bed, deft fingers attacking soft curves. Peals of laughter ring around the room from the both of them as they fall back into each other, into soft lingering kisses that feel first-time timid. With that same gingerness, Dew reaches below the belt for the first time for an exploratory pet. The response he gets is beautifully favorable, a stuttered gasp from Copia, pupils blown. "And if I said I was ticklish there, would you stay your hand?" 

"Saints, I love you when you get romantic like this." Dew says, Copia's fingers coming to rest along Dew's forearm. They regard each other for a long moment, Dew's hair curtaining down in the way that he's always been called beautiful for. He'd thought about shearing his hair after his transition, no longer yearning to feel his hair trail behind him while he swims, no longer feeling like anyone's preziosa sirenella. It was a joint effort from Aether and Copia that had kept it long, Aether meditatively brushing and plaiting the hair while Copia held him close and called him beautiful again, praised the fire in his eyes and the blaze in his bones.

"What you call romantic I simply call honest." One of Copia's hands traces a little trail up the inside of Dew's arm, along his chest to cup his cheek. He pushes up with the other hand, pulling Dew in to kiss him with a little more urgency, a little more breathlessly. He moans wantonly into the kiss, parting his lips to let Copia get even closer, to taste him more insistently. They eventually make their way to a reverse of before, Dew laid back on the pillows looking for all the world like a fallen angel. Sure, the horns and batlike wings don't fit the picture, but the amber eyes looking up through pale lashes seem for all the world like a creature spurned from grace.

His beauty turns to ecstacy when Copia litters his chest with little kisses and love bites, none too hard. Though he'd be hard pressed to bite harder than Swiss, especially considering his rather dull teeth in comparison. But right now Dew can't imagine anything feeling better than this, especially when soft lips brush over his piercings. His back arches into the contact, tail squirming and disturbing the duvet. He lets out a long, low, whined out Papa, which gets him a little hum against his heaving chest. Copia's clever fingers take an exploration down to where Dew's shaft has grown behind his loose joggers.

"Please?" Dew whines, hips jumping and earning him a low, husky laugh from Copia. 

"You don't have to beg, tizzone." Copia says gently, hooking his fingers in the waistband of Dew's pants. His eyebrows raise expectantly, and Dew scrambles to lift his hips enough to get the joggers off. Dew kicks the pants to the ground and paws hungrily at Copia's chest, pulling him into more kisses as the room floods with his cinnamon desire. He's already dripping slick all over the slim juncture of his thighs, squirming underneath the watchful gaze of his Papa. He is flayed open, raw and beating heart ripe for the taking by any predator who dared. And yet, he is not torn in two, and the soft curve of his chest is simply kissed over, leaving smudges of black paint. When Copia leaves his ministrations be, he looks more like a raccoon than normal, all the paint on his lips smudged off completely.

"You look like those, Saints, what does Mountie call them, the bloody trash pandas?" Dew says through a snorting laugh, appending his best true blue impression of Mountain. Copia rolls his eyes fondly and pushes back up onto his haunches, looking down at the ghoul spread out like a feast before him.

"If you're going to be mean I can leave." Copia earns playfully, getting his stern voice out that usually gets reserved for when they've destroyed a hotel room with some sexcapade that makes the bill fall on his shoulders. Notable examples include the scorched bed from when Dew was pinned down and made to cum over and over and over until his little body couldn't take the pressure and literally exploded into flames; the broken bed frame from when Rain begged Mountain for more more more harder please mountie please and the gentle giant had unleashed his powers to rend the particle board to dust as he finished deep in the hot clutch of Rain's body. The most recent incident was the room that looked like a nuclear bomb had gone off when Phantom had lost control of his powers and unleashed a supernova in a cheap hotel, but each of them was brushed under the rug by an understanding but mildly disappointed Copia.

"No! No, I'm sorry, you look nice." Dew reaches out shakily, gripping Copia's shoulders with a fervent whimper. Copia's shoulders slump slightly, and he rubs his thumb along the bird-light joint of Dew's wrist.

"I could never leave you, but I do think I should probably get my shoes off before we continue, eh?" He presses a kiss to the fluttering pulse of Dew's wrist and pulls back a couple steps off the bed to slip his dress shoes off, pulling his belt out of the loops. He hears Dew's throat click with a heavy swallow, and for a moment they share in the hunger for something harder, something that leaves Dew flushed and crying. They're no stranger to that kind of play; there's a very good reason why Copia has a plethora of different leather gloves, well worn by use and, well, too much cleaning. But the moment passes, fleeting as can be, when Copia bends down to unclip the garters from his socks. "Should I leave the pants to you?" He asks with a soft smile, just as Dew's crawling his way down the bed to pluck teasingly at Copia's zipper. 

"Maybe. I let you undress me." Dew grins up at Copia wolfishly, quick fingers dancing along pressed slacks until before Copia knows, his fly is undone and Dew is pawing at him. 

"Should I just fuck you like this?" He laughs, following the line of Dew's thin fingers to gently grip himself. "Boxers and all?"

"You can do it however you like, Papa, as long as you don't let me go." Dew breathes, flame-hot over the thin fabric separating his flushed mouth from sensitive flesh. Copia awkwardly shuffles everything down to a messy pile on the floor, the only real sign someone lives in the room that Dew's noticed since he crawled into bed. His cock springs up, a tempting little bead of pre welling up at the head. Dew grits his teeth in an effort to resist, but as if pulled by an invisible tether, he leans in to press an almost chaste kiss to the head.

"Now that's very dangerous of you, tizzone." Copia breathes as Dew returns to lounging on the pillows, waiting for Copia to chase him up. Nimble fingers dip down to splay open his slit, shimmering in the sun that still filters in the windows. Copia looses a punched groan and moves with a swiftness few people see from him, clambering across the bed to smother his ghoul in kisses once more.

"Need you in me, you know I'm ready for it." Dew juts his chin up proudly, grabbing Copia's hand and shoving it unceremoniously down to his slit. His wide eyes beg him to pet through the velvety folds, and then up to let the smooth, slick length of his shaft throb against his hand. Copia relents, of course he relents to the bid for touch, probing a couple thick fingers into Dew's entrance. He scissors his fingers gently, watching Dew's expression carefully. The fire ghoul's face screws up, but through the years they've been sleeping together, Copia has learned well the difference between pain and pleasure. Dew is firmly on the side of pleasure, at least until something shifts in his face, lip twitching.

"What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" Copia pulls his fingers out, and Dew scrubs at his face, taking a gulping breath and trying to calm his hummingbird heartbeat. He shakes his head, mouth trying to find words.

"It- you… for a second, you felt like…" Dew closes his eyes, trying to find some anchor in the sea of his feelings. "Aeth. I know it's stupid to think about—"

"No, no, Dew, it's not stupid. When do emotions run higher than this, more than when two become one?" Copia brings his clean hand up to cup Dew's cheek, pressing their foreheads together. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No! No. Saints, no, I- I need this. Just need you." Dew throws his arms around the broadness of Copia's back, fingers splaying over the freckled expanse of skin. He clings tight, chest heaving until Copia presses a warm palm to his sternum. They don't say anything, they just breathe in tandem until Copia's even breathing is the rhythm they both follow. Dew nods, and Copia knows what he's ready for without words. They've really never needed words, able to read each other with the smallest twitch of an eye or the quirk of a lip. So it's no surprise to Copia that when he latches his lips to Dew's hot pulse and sinks his fingers back into the warmth of Dew's slit that the little ghoul howls in pleasure, hips jumping erratically.

Copia suckles a dark bite into the pale gray of his Dewdrop, purple blooming to the surface prettily as he opens Dew up. He doesn't need Copia's fingers scissoring him open, not by a long shot, but he'd be remiss if he didn't get his hands dirty in the pursuit of pleasuring Dew. Copia curls his fingers just so, and Dew shouts in ecstacy, shaft throbbing dully as more slick leaks out over his soft stomach.

"Please, please Papa, I don't want to wait anymore." He lays the piety on thick, which seems a little bold for a ghoul who snuck out of Mass. Copia forgives the indulgence, though, and lines himself up to tease the head of his cock along slick folds. "No, no no no nonono, don't tease, please." Dew sobs out. He seems so shattered already, Copia can't help but sink into him, mouth tucked into the angles of his throat to feel his pleasured noises.

"See, I can be kind." Copia mumbles, mouth a little occupied with absolutely ruining Dew with kisses and bruises. Dew yelps as Copia sinks home, hips kissing for a brief second before he pulls almost all the way out.

"Not that kind, apparently." Dew grumbles, jerking up to try and fuck himself on the unmoving cock. Copia lets him try it for a little bit, a faint amused smile playing on his lips. It doesn't last long until the heat beckons, that velvet inferno, and Copia sinks in again with a low groan. Dew's little wings flex against the sheets, claws barely resisting sinking into Copia to pull him impossibly close. He doesn't need the prodding, though, because he picks up a neat little pace. It's not as hard or fervent as it will grow to be, but for now it's just what both of them need. They move together with the gentle push and pull of the ocean, and it reminds Dew of endless quiet moments on the bus, smothering moans in the plush flesh of his lover as they rock with the movement of the bus.

It threatens to ruin Dew's mood, but he forces his mind to think of the ones he's shared that experience with who are still here. Chief among them is of course the man between his legs now, but he feels a different little thrill thinking about Swiss swallowing Dew's noises by clamping a big hand over his mouth, or Cumulus promising to treat him so well if he can stay quiet all on his own. That brings him back from the brink of absolute collapse, to say nothing of the reality of Copia dragging him into a slow, messy kiss. 

Dew slides a hand down in between the both of them to tug at his shaft, but his hand is batted away by Copia. He whimpers at the loss, but Copia picks up the slack immediately. "Just let me take care of you." He murmurs by way of explanation, gently squeezing the slick length of Dew's shaft. His barbs leak all over Copia's fingers, making the glide of skin on skin all but frictionless. It's not the only trait he retained from his previous element, but it was probably the least upsetting. He never needed much foreplay, though he enjoyed it thoroughly, and it definitely made him the pack's favorite choice for a quickie. His hands almost instinctively slide up above his head, ready to be pinned by a large hand. It was one of Mountain's favorite moves, to make him feel impossibly small, but Copia doesn't make the move.

So instead, Dew opts to keep his hands locked tight around the bars of the headboard, thin fingers twining around carved mahogany. Copia groans at the sight when he flicks up his mismatched eyes, focusing back on ruining Dew's chest with love bites. If he thinks too hard about the unfailing obedience that Dew offers him, this endeavor ends far too soon. Then again, compared to the infernal endurance of his ghouls, he's a minute man by comparison, so frankly he's just got to try his best.

"I love you." Dew blurts out randomly, voice thick with pleasure and barely held back tears. Copia's hips stutter for a moment before he looks up to see that the tears are of ecstacy, as far as he can tell. He blinks once, and the fat tears fall from his lashes and race down the hollow of his throat to leave wet spots on the pillow. In response to the love, Copia adjusts himself and pulls Dew's slim legs around his waist, locking them together eternally.

"I love you, Dewdrop, Father Below, do I love you." His hand leaves Dew's shaft for just a millisecond to make sure Dew's legs are locked tight. It returns in due time, bringing with it increased fervor and a lump in his throat that Copia wasn't expecting. He's never been stoic, Saints no, but not nearly as much of a crier as his sweet Dewdrop. There's something in the air today, then that has him choked up. So be it. If his body needs that release, he won't deny himself.

"Don't leave. Please, please don't leave me alone, please stay, Copia please, I can't live without you, I can't lose you." The steady stream of tears turns to wet sobs, and Dew's hands fly from the headboard to cling desperately to Copia and pull him impossibly closer. Their bodies are all but one as their hips meet over and over. Something in the desperate cries makes the fragile dam inside Copia break, and when he screws up his face when Dew flutters, he feels the hot slide of tears down his own cheeks.

"I could never, tizzone. I can't bear to lose another person. I can't hurt you." His voice shakes, and he'd love to pretend that it's because of all the sensations swallowing him, the sweet honey heat of his Dew. But it's a disservice, he thinks, to pretend himself incapable of tears. What then, of the grief he'd experienced, of all the loss of family and love alike? Here, in the sanctuary of his room, he has no obligation to be His Unholiness, Papa Emeritus IV, a stoic figurehead to lead and protect his flock. He can just be, ever so simply, Copia. A man, with vulnerabilities just like everyone else. He swallows heavily, and Dew leans up to kiss his tears away. They're both just sort of crying on each other, wet cheeks pressed together. 

They press even closer to each other, chest to chest as Copia's hips speed up. His hand squeezes the forming knot at the base of Dew's shaft, interrupting the tears with a yelp of pleasure.

"Oh, oh fuck, harder, please, can you- harder?" Dew asks, voice trembling. He never asks this politely, and combined with the throb of his shaft, Copia realizes he's not the only minute man here. The pace slows down in service of more brutal thrusts, getting punched little groans from the both of them as the bed creaks with protest. His hand makes choppy little strokes along Dew's shaft, lack of rhythm unbecoming of a practiced musician. Dew doesn't seem to mind, head tossing back and forth and making his silken hair into a mussed tangle despite the inelegance of Copia's thrusts. Right about when Copia expects, his thighs and hips start to burn in protest. It's for the best that he thinks about bringing things to a crescendo.

It's definitely not a premature end; Dew's slit is pulsing heavily around Copia which always signals that he's about to burst. The little hiccups each time he fucks a little deeper into Dew's hot body are a sure sign that it's time to try his dirtiest trick. Well, 'dirty' implies that he's on equal sexual footing with the very emissaries of Hell's lust, so it's more that he's a very clever lover. He swipes both his hands under Dew's ass, trusting his knees for all of two seconds to bear the weight of him while he adjusts to fuck up into the spot that makes Dew howl. And howl he does, one hand clawing deeply at Copia's shoulder without breaking skin. The other rends the pillow under his head to downy shreds, fine duck feathers exploding into the room and clinging to Dew's sweaty shoulders.

"Aaah, yes, yes, Copia please, please I'm right there, touch me touch me please please, Unholy Father, I need to cum!" Dew sobs wetly, bringing a feathered hand up to scrub the tears away so he can beg with the full power of his alluring amber eyes. He doesn't need to beg; he never needed to ask. But it seems ingrained in him to ask permission, so Copia gives him a little grunt of affirmation. That's apparently the key to get the levee to burst, because Dew spills all over his stomach and chest with a wail. Iridescent cum coats his piercings, glittering in the dappled light of the window. The fluttering of Dew's silken walls around him means Copia is barely moments behind, spilling into Dew and screwing up his face. 

The ecstacy brings the tears back in full force, a sick combination of pain and pleasure. His chest constricts as if squeezed from within, and he finally looses a proper sob. Copia wipes at his eye, coming back with a smeared blob of paint staining his fingers, and it's quite belatedly he realizes that he probably looks absolutely haggard. He can't be fucked to care, honestly, especially as he pulls out and lowers Dew back down to the bed, watching as his chest heaves. Dew's cum barely starts to dry, hardly gets the chance before Copia leans down to clean him up with that silvered tongue. He laps broadly, swiping up slick and cum in equal measure as Dew sobs quietly into the back of his hand. Copia keeps his kisses featherlight, his tongue as restrained as he dares. If he catches a couple of his own tears in his ministrations, so be it.

"Saints, I could worship you forever. You are so dear, so unholy to me." Copia breathes against Dew's damp skin, ears tuned to the stuttered hiccup at the reversal. Dew had caught the attention of many a man (and woman) of the cloth, and yet none of them had found him worthy of worship. Only Copia truly viewed him as not only equal, but superior. Dew did his fair share of devotion in the bedroom, but he was used to being on his knees in more ways than one.

"Don't deserve it." Dew whimpers, though his hands tell a different story when they sink into Copia's hair. "I don't- I'm not beautiful anymore, not like I used to be. Too much blood." His hands twitch on Copia's scalp, and for a brief moment all Copia can think of is the moment Dew stumbled on him in a puddle of ichor, of Aether's— No. No. Not now. Not when he's dragging down lower, sensitive cock brushing against silky sheets when he settles in between Dew's legs. Copia's spend leaks wetly from Dew, little pulses of his orgasmic afterglow pushing a new wave of slick and cum out of him. He watches for a couple seconds, pleasure-dazed until he remembers his purpose, hands coming up to stroke gently at the thin plane of Dew's thighs. Gentle fingertips stroke at the fine hair on his legs, feeling the muscles twitch uncertainly as Dew awaits whatever comes next.

What comes next is a supernova of overstimulation, Copia's tongue licking broadly between dusky folds. He's so pretty and dark down here, like a rare flower with midnight petals. 

"Fuck, hurts. Hurts good." Dew bleats, taking a fistful of Copia's hair in his hand as he's cleaned out with gentle licks. "Please don't stop. Might go again." Copia groans into slick flesh, the idea that he could bring Dew to even the littlest orgasm down here stirring heat right back up in his gut. So he sets himself to the task, bringing a single firm finger up to prod tenderly. It's under the guise of making sure Dew is cleaned up properly, but it's really to pet at his soft walls and feel him flutter with each lick. Before he knows it, Dew is clamping his thighs tight and squealing, body forcing every last drop out of him and onto Copia's tongue. Dew doesn't have to push him away when he's had too much, because Copia knows him intimately, knows just when to draw his finger out in the aftershocks.

Dew's face is blotchy, all different shades of plum and tyrian purple, and the patchwork only continues down his neck and chest. His face is still wet with tears, though they've dried down to a velvet sheen on his soft cheek. Copia kisses the inside of his knee, murmuring softly that he'll be right back, he's just going to grab something to clean them both off. Dew assumes he's going for the ensuite, and he paws at Copia with a yelp, but he only moves to the other bedside table to flip open a vintage cigar box. Inside is not cigars, but a pastel little packet of baby wipes, all hidden away to keep the impeccable aesthetic of his room in order. Dew watches curiously before he lets out a watery laugh that turns a little teary, making more feathers from the destroyed pillow stick to him.

"Oh, shit, the- Papa, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to—" Copia waves a hand and beckons Dew off the ruined pillow. He goes uncertainly, relaxing into the touch as Copia wipes him down, leaving him smelling faintly of honey and almond.

"It's a pillow, I can get another. I'll forgive you if you tell me what's so funny." His mouth settles into a lazy smile as he discards the wipe to grab another and slip it down between Dew's legs. The little ghoul hisses at the cold between his warm legs, but he does as his Papa asks.

"Just the," he waves his hand at the cigar box, "I don't know. Such a silly little thing hidden away in a mature shell. It's very you. And I love that. Practical and not too serious and-" Dew shudders as his sensitive shaft retreats, brushing against the cool wipe. "Hells, that's cold."

"I would be loathe to invest in a wipe warmer." Copia explains mildly, with the not so subtle implication Dew was being a bit of a baby about the cold. "Rain loves it, says he gets too hot and sticky." Dew opens his mouth to protest, but clacks it shut with a snap of his jaws, brow furrowing.

"Well. I'm not much like him anymore, am I?" He says quietly, eyes sparking like when he loses control of his element. Copia watches him carefully, fingers stopped in their work to ensure he doesn't obliterate the bed. The fire dies down completely, quenched by the tears that bubble up and fall with a scary speed. "Not much of anything, really." He hiccups, and it's the comedown Copia was really expecting. He's never escaped a teary romp in the sheets without lengthy aftercare, and likely some of the world's worst pillow talk by normal standards. 

"No, no. You're everything. I knew you were beautiful from the moment I saw you." Copia soothes, tossing the soiled wipes into the wastebin that's there for just that purpose. He hesitates for a moment, wondering if it's worth the effort to clean up his paint. But he eventually perishes the thought, considering that Dew is grasping up at him with pitiful paws. So he looks like a rat left out in the rain, so what? He sits back down on the bed, shunting Dew into his lap and gently picking every stray feather off of his damp skin. Every fourth feather or so, he brushes Dew's cheeks of the tears that incessantly fall, granting him reprieve best he can. "It's alright. I knew this was coming for a long time, dolcezza." 

"What- what do you mean?" Dew looks up blearily from behind his tears, eyes now dulled to the color of stale coals. Copia tuts gently, flexing slightly so that his foot doesn't go fully numb with the pressure of the little head on his thigh.

"You were withdrawn since Brisbane. Barely spoke for weeks, all you did was hold my hand on the plane." His voice is gentle, all the patience of a teacher, a leader, a pastor. All the things he's been to Dew and more, his anchor in the storm. "I've seen this mood on you before, Dewdrop. I know how you get when the.." He waves his hand, looking for the words, "melancholy takes a hold of you." He's probably looking for depression, but he's got a poet's soul. Sue him. "Mountain came to me a little while ago, asked if you had been more forthcoming with me about how you were doing. Your pack is worried about you, myself included." 

"I wish he wouldn't." Dew grumbles, wiping at his face. He's mostly free of feathers, so Copia's moved to gently detangling his hair and picking out the down he finds stuck there. "I just.. I wish they'd leave me alone."

"You know they won't. When I saw you leave Mass I.. to be honest I almost stopped the whole affair to chase you." He'd been in the middle of Desecration, holding His Infernal Body aloft when he saw Dew excuse himself and slip out along the shadowed corridors, votive candles burning a little brighter as he passed. It'd formed a lump in his throat that hadn't gone away till he'd been able to shed his robes, leaving them in a pile for the poor sacristy ghouls to deal with. "I was glad to find you here, instead of.." He trails off with a shaky breath, the implication hanging as a sword of Damocles above them.

Dew closes his eyes tight, forcing tears down his mottled cheeks. He balls his fists, and it's like he's trying to squeeze all the anxiety and pain and doubt out of his little body. He relaxes with a slump, laying heavier on Copia's lap. Alabaster horns prick at Copia's thigh, and he sinks his fingers into Dew's very scalp to massage around the base of his horns. Sometimes that touch is arousing, but right now it's just soothing, though it does little to stop the tears.

"What's keeping you away from us, little flame?" Copia murmurs, trailing his fingers down to press his middle fingers into the little spot at the hinge of Dew's jaw on either side. So much tension is carried here, not to mention the spot where his pheromones burn the strongest, and when Copia massages the whole room floods with warm tobacco and teak. 

"I.." Dew breathes in and out once, chest trembling, "I'm terrified that when you go, I won't feel it. That I won't know." The confession seems to shatter something in him, and he crumples up his face like the words struck him. "And I thought maybe if I could pull away it wouldn't hurt so bad, wouldn't kill me when everyone dies again and again and again. But maybe not knowing is worse." One of Copia's hands presses on Dew's sternum, helping to regulate his breathing. The other travels back up to scratch softly at his scalp. "I still message Aether." Dew continues, "I have for months. I don't know what I'm doing without him, it's like.. I don't know. I've lost packmates before, so many of them, but I never thought I'd lose him."

"I know. Saints, do I know." Copia strokes his thumb along Dew's feverish skin, scooping a hand underneath his head to deposit him gently on the bed. Dew whimpers, hands reaching up for Copia piteously. "I'm not going far, dolce." He gently makes his way over to the desk, sliding open a drawer and pulling a bundle of tied together letters out of the very back. They're all different sizes, some as thin as a single sheet, some clearly stuffed full with multiple pages, and as Copia brings the stack back, Dew spots the name on every single one of them in elegant script. Aether. "It's a little more old fashioned, but.. I write to him. Not on a schedule, just.. when I find myself thinking of him. And I tuck them away, and I," He sighs, a shaky little noise that has Dew finally sitting up and cocking his head, eyes searching Copia's face. "When I can go long enough without remembering that.. that damnable pool of ichor, I'll burn them for him. In the summoning room, and I'll hope that he gets to read them."

Dew takes the stack of letters gently, noting a faint herbal scent when his hands warm the papers. They're all on fine paper, thick and rich and sealed with wax bearing the symbol of the church, carefully embellished in gold by a gentle hand. He brings one of the letters to his nose, but he can't for the life of him identify the herb. Mountain probably could, but he doesn't really spend enough time in the garden. Anymore.

"Rosemary. For remembrance, and because he always used to love that lamb roast Mountain would cook up for Ostara, which Mount always claimed was traditional hell cuisine and I'm just now doubting the veracity of that," Copia laughs fondly, a small, sad little noise. "There's a sprig in every letter for him. I learned that magic a very very long time ago, at that boy's school, Saint Amduscias'." Copia takes the letters back and tucks them into the desk again, fingers lingering briefly on the lacquered wood.

"How often do you think of it?" Dew asks, eyes searching the expanse of Copia's back, noting each freckle for the hundredth time. He knows asking the question is like poking at a sore tooth for the sick satisfaction of it, but there is a perverse pleasure that leaves the ache a little duller each time he talks about it.

"Those letters? They're all from this last leg of tour. And I have more I haven't unpacked." Copia turns, always so beautifully unashamed in his nakedness. It was a shame that humans got so touchy about their bodies, considering how wonderful and unique they all are. Dew's always been grateful that Copia never seemed to be in a rush to cover up after sex if he didn't strictly have to. "How can I not think of it? I can't.. I don't know that I'll ever forget fully. I knew Ministry staff were to be there that day, but I never thought.. well, I knew the rumors. I'd heard things, here and there but they were my first replacements." The words drips off his tongue as if it were acid, vile and burning.

"I can't stop thinking about feeling it before I saw it." Dew comes over and swings his legs off the bed, leaning back and looking up at the one who's charmed his heart over and over again, and will probably do so till both of them are in the ground. "I'd seen some important looking people around but, I mean. You know how I am with authority, I just ignored it."

Copia pushes off the desk and settles his body in between Dew's slim knees, until Dew is craning his neck to make eye contact. "What did it feel like? You never told me." Dew's heart skips a beat so loudly it feels like it reverberates around the room.

"Like a star collapsing in on itself. Like a heart attack, from what I've been told it feels like." He swallows thickly around the lump of tears in his throat. He feels like a wrung out rag, like blood squeezed from the stone. There's probably more tears in his body, but Hell Below, he just wishes they'd stay there. "Like being stabbed and then the knife slides out slowly, like the person doing the stabbing enjoys it. Like losing a limb." Dew gets quiet, and he rests a hand over his heart, scars from former fins shimmering down his arm. Copia bends down and presses his forehead against Dew's, a Ghoulish kiss Dew first taught him by accident. The fire ghoul had just done it, and Copia played along, until Dew realized the poor Cardinal had no idea what he'd been doing.

"I'll do anything I can to make sure you never feel that again." He murmurs, and Dew sighs, a dismissive tone to the noise.

"You know you can't promise that." Dew says shakily, and Copia bumps his nose against Dew's a soft little movement that makes Dew's chest constrict.

"No, not entirely. But I mean it. I'd do what I could." They fall into a silence then, breathing in each other's air, enjoying each other's space. The arrhythmic rasp of a starling sings through the window, a discordant soundtrack with the backing beat of their hearts as accompaniment. Dew pulls back eventually, nosing at Copia's jaw to get his attention.

"Do you want to go see him?" Aether has a sort of grave, a shrine really. They weren't allowed to keep his body; the Ministry had taken it as some sort of grotesque currency for Phantom's summoning, but they had other things. The mask Terzo had given him, and the first one Copia gave. A broken little shard of horn from early on, when he literally butted heads with Omega and snapped it off. His beloved bracelet, which Ivy had gifted him, shaped by their own hand from scrap guitar strings. The first Fantomen he'd gotten, all those years ago. Phantom was given a new one, apparently not too dear a price from the Ministry for their newest summon. Gifts from fans, piles and piles of them, carefully kept safe in a plexiglass case. He'd kept almost everything he'd been given; if he could fit it into a nook or cranny of a gear box or a bunk, he would. Dew had found some little trinket tucked into his guitar case when he opened it up for the first time to prep for tour, and it's been on his bedside table ever since. It's all lovingly ensconced in an explosion of flowers that Mountain maintains like a soul-bound duty, heliotrope and lavender and aster and stargazer lilies, each one beautiful and perfect.

"I think that would be nice. I haven't been since we got back. The lilies should be blooming, and I think Mountain will forgive me if I take one for myself." Copia muses, wondering if he can find some little bud vase that he can get Rain and Mountain to jointly enchant to have a perpetual flower on his desk.

"Oh, you know those things make me sick whenever you handle them too much." Dew grumbles, but it's playful, light, and the beat of his tail on the bed says as much.

"Ah, so I shouldn't wear my gloves to pick one? Wouldn't want those dreadful lilies near your, eh, most sensitive parts." Copia gets a wicked little smile, and Dew pushes him away with a groan, flopping back to the bed and watching as a couple of feathers float up from it.

"You're so lucky I love you."

"I am."

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

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1. For the Next Fic Finder:

Looking for a time travel fic in which older WWX travels back to past Lotus Pier, the Jiang family then decides it would be better to have older xian be introduced as younger xians older brother. Older!WWX also comes with them at CR in which he befriended LXC and later NMJ and change both of their opinions regarding resentful energy.

P.S I think there was also a chapter where he went "missing" but he was just with the Dafan Wens and just really missed them in his depressed state.

FOUND! MingYu by Fino_Al_Cielo (T, 87k, WWX & LWJ, YL WWX, yunmeng siblings, Fix-It of Sorts, Time Travel, Canon Divergence, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, PTSD, References to Depression, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicidal Thoughts, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Trauma)

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2. Hello! Looking for two specific modern AU fics

A) Posted on twitter where Wei Ying kept bothering LWJ on the length of her skirt (it was a genderbend fic)

B) Posted on instagram. LWJ and WWX were both models, WWX were kidnapped and tortured at one point because of jealous Jin Zixun

Thank you in advance for the help! @hid9884

2A)

FOUND? this thread by @/3neetee

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3. Hi can you help me find a fanfic?? um wei wuxian works at a sex shop and lan wangji comes in to close it down bc his parents own it but end up falling in love where as jiang cheng works at a bar where lan xichen fall inlove w/ him and wei wuxian crazy ex (jenny I think) tries to kill him??

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4. hiii ! i’m looking for a fic where it’s set in post canon, i think, and it’s about wei changze confronting jiang cheng about everything wei wuxian went through. There was a scene where he talks about experiencing being whipped by zidian through wwx bc at his desperate times, wwx unknowingly calls for his parents and wcz was able to connect with him somehow and that’s how he saw the things that happened in wwx’s life. tysm!!! @makkachiin

FOUND! Chapter 24 of Short Prompts by Vrishchika

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5. I'm looking for a shapeshifting fic. LWJ was a rabbit and WWX a fox. LWJ ended up transforming out of stress, and bumped into WWX who took him home on his fox back and later kept visiting him. WWX was also staying in the woods and keeping things at NHS's house. I've searched through my history but I can't find it so I'm scared it's been deleted. @flaxenhairedsamurai

I don't remember what 5 is called but someone else was looking for it semi recently

FOUND! This Twitter fic by @/Zizzani

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6. I'm looking for a modern AU where the characters work in various emergency services. I remember that the first chapters focused a lot on WWX, and I *think* that later chapters switched to a focus on Meng Yao/JGY. I specifically remember a scene where WWX climbs up a stuck rollercoaster or Ferris wheel, and someone he tries to save falls and dies. He was maybe a firefighter? And LWJ was maybe an EMT?

FOUND! 🧡 Like a House on Fire by KouriArashi (T, 82k, WangXian, Modern au, Paramedics, Firefighters, Light angst, Mutual pining, Kid fic, Past drug use, Past child abuse, Families of choice, Domestic fluff)

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7. I want to find a Wangxian A/B/O fanfic It was very long and angsty about Wei Wuxian being an Omega Cultivator where they are expected to be locked up inside. It had a one-sided Jin Zixuan x Wei Wuxian and a really bad scene with Wen Chao. Its no longer in ao3 but i cant remember the author reposted it

FOUND? and the calm is deep where the quiet waters flow (Prologue – Index) (E, 303k, off-screen rape, oppression, violence, sexual assault, grief/mourning, unwanted pregnancy., A/B/O)

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8. looking for a modern au fic, cant remember the title but the description on ao3 had something about a taxi driver noticing a bruise on wei ying and mentioning that the person will hurt him again. there was a suicide attempt i think, due to the jiang family abuse, and lan zhan was his neighbour!

FOUND? like a fox in tall grass by notinamillionyears, starcrushedjewels (notinamillionyears) (E, 93k, WIP, WangXian, Suicide Attempt, Drug Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Strangers to Lovers, Neighbors, College/University, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Depression, Anxiety Attacks, Pianist LWJ, Smoking, Trauma, Explicit Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Caretaking, Identity Issues, Age Difference, Power Dynamics, Dom/sub Undertones, Eating Disorders, Mutual Pining, Consensual Non-Consent, Sleeping Together, Suicidal Ideation, Bipolar Disorder, implied manic depression)

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9. hello im looking for a fic where jzx asks wangxian for help and there's a cursed building? and mxy is in it or in the center of it and they rescue him. that's about all i remember sorry. appreciate any help tho ♥️

hello im the last ff anon #9. sorry but the suggestion isn't it. i distinctly remember it being a cursed building, or maybe a watch tower maybe? and mxy was inside it. wangxian are already married iirc also a bunch of jins died in that building i think? bc of the resentful energy?

hello ff anon #9 again. to answer anon's question, mxy isn't a spirit. he's alive in the fic and i think he follows wangxian after he was rescued? i appreciate all the help that's coming y'all are so cool

NOT FOUND! 9 sounds like it might be Aftermath by KouriArashi (T, 57k, JYL/JZX, wangxian, LXC/JGY, canon divergence, fix-it, everyone lives au, romance, developing relationship, family, sibling bonding, light angst, politics, attempted sexual assault, some murder, people talking about their feelings, trauma processing) although the rescue is in a mine not a building

for #9, is MXY a ghost/spirit that needed liberating/sending off?

FOUND? quiet, blooming hours by Sanguis (T, 13k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Modern AU, Magical Realism, Established Relationship, Married Couple, Family Feels, Background Relationships, Resurrection, Adoption) Idk if #9 could be ...the house is somewhat cursed and the jins are involved but not the way anon describes. Wangxian is established though

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10. Hi, I hope you can find me find this wonderful fic where WWX used an array to make everyone forget about him. He succeeded with his plan but the people who initially knew him (JC, JFM, JYL, even Madam Yu, basically everyone) always subconsiously thinks of him like something or someone is missing in their lives. Eventually, JC, LWJ, and LXC realized that someone must've erased their memory of that person so they tried their best to undo the curse or the array.

FOUND? Remember by Amona (T, 57k, JC & WWX, wangxian, Canon Divergence, self-sacrifice, erasing oneself from history, colored souls, sword spirits, major angst w happy ending, implied/referenced rape/non-con, minor character death, WIP)

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11. Hi, I'm searching for a modern au fic where WWX was gonna have an abortion, and LWJ offered to drive him to his appointment. He said that he'd help him because his mother had no choice or something like that. It's a one shot, I think, not much happens, appart from that.

FOUND! baby let's take the long way home by plonk (Not rated, 10k, wangxian, modern w/ magic, abortion, mpreg, with a twist, enemies to lovers)

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12. Does anyone remember that fic where lwj is a goth DJ at a bar? And wwx keeps trying to meet him or hang out with him? Lwj is ruder than usual I think. I might be mixing up two different fics but in the one I’m thinking of lwj gives wwx a ride home late at night… it’s driving me crazy- I thought I had saved it!

FOUND! The Quiet Room by trickybonmot (M, 39k, wangxian, modern, 1990s, goth LWJ, cellist LWJ, college student WWX, house hunting, dating, clubbing, implied/referenced past child abuse, mental health issues, academic disaster aftermath, getting together, homelessness)

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13. First of all, thank you for all your work, you're awesome!! Second, I'd like to ask for your help to find a fic. it's ABO where omegas are like really rare and sacred in the cultivation world, wwx is an omega but for some reason he hides it until it all comes out about the time he's in the burial mounds with the Wen, and that's when the sects finally believe him and take his side bc omegas always stand for what's right and true or smt. Thanks!!

FOUND! Woven fates by apathyinreverie (T, 10k, wangxian, ABO, alpha LWJ, omega WWX, fix-it, fluff, family, romance, mates) it has the "omegas always stand for what’s right and true," but wwx wasn't hiding it, he just didn't present until he felt safe and then ran into lwj again / WWX wasn't actively hiding being an omega though, but only presented while in the burial mounds.

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14. Hello i'm looking for a fic where wei ying enters a mating run on a dare(or bet) and if you survive the run you get $50,000 if lan Wanji chooses you, you get $1 million. There is also some orginized crime aspects to the fic

FOUND? Five Fifteen by 3neetee (M, 11k, wangxian, rape/non-con, ABO, modern, alpha LWJ, alpha WWX, mating runs, graphic descriptions of violence, dom/sub undertones, light bondage, implied mpreg, dark LWJ, betrayal, smut, dark lans, unreliable narrator WWX) locked

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15. Hello for the next fic finder can you please help me find a fic where Wei Wuxian loses his memories after an accident. I remember WWX and LWJ were engaged and they were going to marry and LQR hired a private investigator and the accuses WWX of cheating and everyone believes him. But it was actually WWX meeting Wen Qing to discuss adopting A-Yuan. WWX keeps it a secret because he wanted to surprise LWJ when they get married with the adoption papers. Anyways after they accuse him of cheating WWX runs out and gets hits by a vehicle and loses his memories. It was a modern AU.

Thank you for all the help you do for us. @mybestfriendisacinnamonroll​

FOUND? (Un)forgettable by Edens_Cat & VividestList (E, 67k, wangxian, LWJ & LSZ & WWX, WWX & WQ, modern, misunderstandings, angst w/ happy ending, kid fic, teacher WWX, single parent WWX, amnesia, protective WQ, protective LSZ, smut)

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16. Hi! I am not sure if this has been asked before but I'm looking for this fic where Lan Yuan grew up as the Jiang sect heir because Jiang Cheng got to him before Lan Zhan. I could remember there are several kids in the Burial Mounds and one of them was adopted into the Lan sect as a healer. And the rest (there were three of them ig???) were basically hiding in the Jiang sect unbeknownst to Jiang Cheng. I really really loved that fic but I can't remember much from it and I want to read it again. Thaaaaanks!!

FOUND? Until The End by abCEE (M, 365k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, war changes people, resulting to OOC, no pinning, Established Relationship, Mpreg, Good Uncle LQR, a little grey LWJ, a bit of JC bashing from LWJ, BAMF JYL, 16 years of yearning, mainly CQL verse but has scenes from the novel as well, LSZ is WangXian's Child, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Canon Rewrite, Happy Ending, Fix-It of Sorts) sounds like this one, but a-yuan is still with the Lan. The kids at the Jiang sect and the healer at the Lan sect match though

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17. I think it was very Nie Huaisang centric and short, but I can’t remember anything other than a few lines near the end where NHS was remembering that JGY hadn’t taken into account that LXC had known him since he was a kid and would trust and defend him.

The line I remember is something like “NHS remembers being passed back and forth between LXC and NMJ like a particularly beloved parcel” referring to LXC practically adopting him as a second little brother.

Thank you!

FOUND! Chapter 32 of Twelve Moons and a Fortnight by stiltonbasket (M, 290k, WangXian, Humor, Slow Burn, Post-Canon Fix-It, Long-Distance Relationship, Epistolary, Love Letters, Family Feels, a-qing lives, teenage romance, Adoption, Romantic Comedy, Happy Ending, Weddings, Case Fic, Parenthood, Politics) you're looking for chapter 32 of twelve moons and a fortnight by stilton basket.

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18. Hello, can you help find this fic? The back story in this fic is yzy is cheating with wcz and wwx is yzy'son with wcz. After wwx born he was cast aside and yzy pregnant with soon after with jfm as the fathet. Wcz become a rogue cultivator while raising wwx and he meet csr. In the first chapter i think wwx is kinda kicked out by bssr to make him meet with his sibling in cloud recesses and make a peace with them. I think he introduce himself as a-xian (or it is a-ying? But i think it was a-xian). I think that's all i can remember. Thank you!

FOUND! The Undesirable Son by FragranceLotion97 (G, 34k, WangXian, CQL but WWX is Madam Yu's Bastard Son, It goes differently from the beginning, WWX becomes sworn brother with lxc then becomes his in law, LWJ is still whipped, There is Yin Iron, Heavily CQL with a little mix from the novel, Adding donghua into the fandom because i decide to use a lot of things from there)

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19. For the next fic finder: can you help me find a fic where wwx falls in the lake when they’re fighting the abyss, and everyone believes he dies. Weeks (or maybe months) pass, and then he washes up on the shore of the lake, somehow still alive. I think it might have been Lan Xichen pov, and he was blaming himself for losing wwx since he was in charge of the hunt.

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20. Looking for a fic where WWX was Baoshan Sanren’s disciple (I think) and they were doing demonstrations. WWX went through all major sects’. The one I remember clearly is that the Lan style was war

FOUND! Become Tomorrow by  ShanaStoryteller (Not rated, 39k, wangxian, cloud recesses study arc, BSSR's disciple WWX)

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[sylphidine]

I came THIS CLOSE to deleting all my works on Archive Of My Own.

My account on Archive Of Our Own has now been locked to only registered AO3 accounts, and that only AO3 account-holders can reply.

Within the last 24 hours, I came very, very, VERY close to deleting CALL SIGNS, the Swatchton story I have been working on for the last year and a half, into which I've been pouring my heart, sweat, and soul. I also considered deleting my body of work entirely... 83 pieces, eight years' worth of fanfiction brain power.

The reason why? AI story-scrapers.

The technology testing has gotten to the point that the bots can scrape AO3 for people's AO3 handles *and* leave comments on AO3 fics that sound like a human wrote them.

A post on Tumblr alerted me to the fact that two comments on CALL SIGNS were quite likely AI-generated.  The important bullet points from the post:

No mentions whatsoever of character names, settings, situations, or anything that could be tied to the story.

The usernames may be identical to people who exist on ao3, but the name is not clickable, and no profile is associated with it EXCEPT when you directly search for that name. What this means: the comments come from an unregistered (not logged in) reader, bots scrape the site for real usernames, attach that to the comment, and post.

And since I always reply to any comments I get on my fics, even if it takes a while, I fell for this scam.

[I edited out the names the the bots "borrowed". I can assure you that neither of the writers whose pseuds got stolen were involved; they write for VERY different fandoms than the ones I write for.]

I was so bloody happy to hear that someone thought I was handling really raw and angsty topics well, since CALL SIGNS is the first fic I've written that comes even close to such heavy subject matter, that I didn't even notice the warning signs.

More fool me.

So I went to bed in tears, after venting to friends on various platforms. I thought hard about deleting CALL SIGNS.

I'm not going to delete CALL SIGNS,

I'm not going to delete any of my other stories, either.

I did delete the comments.

But...

To quote a certain Tom Petty, I'm gonna stand my ground, and I won't back down.

The next story chapter of CALL SIGNS, titled "Trash Landing", is 80% done. 

It's damn heavy.

It's dark.  It's painful.

It's necessary for the healing. 

There ***will*** be so much comfort after the hurt, if you can bear with me, dear readers.

Art of "Sylph Addison", with her tasque Phinneas, done for me by Miss_Archivist @missarchivistdoodles

I'm also working on fics for RISE OF THE GUARDIANS, several crossover fics involving classic DOCTOR WHO and THE MAGNUS ARCHIVES, and various bits and bobs for Nightmare Dork University.

I will not give up on writing.

I will fight against AI.

Tagging some of the people who've influenced my writing here on Tumblr in the various fandoms I write for:

@ksclaw

@penbwl

@mira-eyeteeth

@thisbluespirit

[mostlikelythedevil]

Only Love Can Hurt (Like This) | {Part One}

Pairing(s): Kevin Owens x Fem!Zayn!Reader, Solo Sikoa x Fem!Zayn!Reader

Warning(s): Explicit Language, Angst, Explicit Sexual Content (Fem! Receiving, Penetrative Sex, Unprotected Sex, etc.)

Word Count: 3,325

Chapter Summary: The Reader gets a message from an unsaved number in the middle of the night, and she chooses to investigate against her better judgement. 

Link(s): AO3, Masterlist

Note(s): I’ve been considering doing some AU content for the Haunted Universe to show what could have been, so this is going to be a ficlet on one of many! This one is going to be two parts, so be sure to keep an eye out for part two! To be clear: this is not canon to Haunted, and it is not necessary to have read Haunted to understand what’s going on. I also feel the need to add that any grammatical errors are intention as I feel the fic reads better raw rather than polished. Let me know what you think!

Tag(s): @crowleysqueenofhell @raeluvshammett

The message comes chiming sometime after midnight.

 Solo, in his sleep, tightens his grip on the covers beside you; your brother does not stir in his bed, nor do the two twins who sleep on the pull-out couch. It still surprises you that your brother would allow you to sleep in the same bed as a man who you hardly know; yet, sleeping with him would be awkward and uncomfortable, and the twins insisted that you have a bed to sleep in rather than the pull-out. So, Solo was the logical option; besides, you liked him well enough after getting to know him for the last month — maybe a bit too much. It doesn’t matter.

 Part of you doesn’t want to know who would be messaging you at such a late hour — and yet, here you were, climbing out of bed with the gentlest of movements to cross the room. Your phone lights up on your approach, blinding you with the bright light of your background — a picture of you with Sami. In a panic, trying to turn the brightness down, you bump against the dresser it rests on. Solo stirs in bed for a moment before settling on his back, facing the ceiling; once again, the others do not move at all in the night.

 “Can we talk?” The message reads, an unknown number on your notification wall.

 In your throat, you feel an awful, nervous tightness. Who would be messaging you, this late at night, wanting to talk — especially if it was someone too insignificant to save to your phone? There were few people that would bother messaging you that weren’t already in the room with you, less that didn’t have their own numbers saved in your phone under some nickname.

 You consider deleting the message and crawling back into the comfort of the bed; tomorrow is going to be a long, eventful day, after all. Wonder, though, at the mystery person behind the message, keeps you standing in the middle of the hotel room like an idiot — and you can only hope that no-one wakes to question what the hell you’re doing out of bed at such a late hour.

 “Who is this?” Shaking are your fingers as you send the message.

 “Room 203, the floor under you. Don’t wake up your friends,” the message reads, lighting up your screen within seconds of your response. You frown. “Delete these messages for both our sake.”

 Stomach churning, you glance around the room at the men sleeping; none of them had moved in the time it had taken to read your phone, and someone — who you believe to be Sami — is snoring softly. There is no reason that you couldn’t sneak out of the room and back before anyone noticed; yet, you’re not even sure you want to go. This could be some kind of set-up, some psychopath trying to hurt you in the middle of the night with all evidence gone.

 Carefully, you unplug your phone and grab the robe that you left on the other side of the dresser. You toss it over your shoulders, pulling it in close against you; you were decent in your tank-top and shorts, but you would prefer not to be seen roaming the hotel corridors in search of someone. The more cover you had, the less likely it would be for someone to recognize you from afar — you hope.

 Once more, you find yourself looking around the room. Sami is turned away from the door, still snoring, and Solo remains comfortably on his back; the two twins cannot be seen from so close to the door, but you suppose one of them would have sat up if they were awake.

 Something about this feels so wrong.

 Yet you find yourself opening and closing the door behind you with quiet haste.

 The hotel corridor is clear of anyone else, which is of little surprise considering the hour. Still, though, it is bright — too bright, too obvious if someone were to see you. Instead of the elevator, you aim for the stairwell, walking with your shoulders hunched and as close to your head as possible. God, why did you feel as if you were betraying the people you had sworn yourself to?

 Somewhere in the distance, you hear a door opening. You dart into the stairwell, chest heaving with excitement and anxiety all bundled into one, and descend with quick, deliberate steps. It’s darker here, and the echo is a bit loud, so you do what you can both to not trip and to remain quiet at such a fast pace.

 You find yourself on the floor below your room, sticking your head precariously out of the stairwell door. No-one roams the corridor, just as no-one had above. The room number directly across from the stairwell is 215; you would need to walk down the corridor a fair amount before reaching your destination. A fresh wave of butterflies invade your stomach as you inch into the corridor, making haste toward your destination.

 “213, 211, 209, 207, 205…” Your breath hitches outside of Room 203.

 Who, or what, could be awaiting you behind the ordinary hotel door?

 Knock. Knock.

 Tense moments pass by without answer, and a wave of humiliation washes over you. This was some kind of cruel trick — or worse, a test from Roman that you failed without question. You huff, glancing around you for someone lying in wait; no-one awaits you, though, and you begin back to the stairwell. On the bright side, with the little time you had been gone, you could stop at the vending machine as an excuse to your absence had any of the boys had noticed.

 Just as you turn away from the door, it opens. You look back, seeing no-one waiting to greet you; instead, you can see the faint glow of the television in the corner of the room. Dread fills you, and you truly consider running for a moment; you don’t, though, fool that you are, and you carefully inch yourself into the hotel room.

 As you step into the room, the door is closed behind you, and you feel another wave of nauseating dread fill you as you step forward and away from the person behind you. In front of you, the television is paused on a moment from the latest Monday Night RAW; to be precise, it is paused at the exact moment that Kevin Owens walked out to address Roman Reigns — though the camera focuses on the distraught flash that crosses your expression.

 “What the fuck,” you murmur, looking around the room, but not yet behind you.

 The room itself is quite clean, save for a shirt laid across the bed. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust enough to the faint glow of the television being the only light in the room, but as soon as you’re able, you take a few steps closer to the bed to investigate the clue purposely left behind for you.

 Just Keep Fighting

 Your heart drops to your stomach.

 And, yet, part of you knew. Why else would you be so stupid?

 “I already hadn’t been sleeping well,” the deep sound of his tired voice reverberates around the room, encompassing you in the same intoxicating way that it had before. He’s somewhere behind you, and he’s all around you at once. “Re-watching Monday night, though, I saw that, on the T.V, and I haven’t been sleeping very much at all since.”

 You continue to stare down at the shirt, stomach churning. “You did that.”

 He sighs. You can hear him running his hands through his hair. “I know,” his voice is so soft it makes your heart weep, “and that’s why I asked you to come. I want to talk about it.”

 You stand in silence.

 “I know that a lot has happened in the month since,” you can hear him step closer to you as he speaks, “but I need you to know that I regret going about things the way that I did. I was scared.”

 “Scared?” The question comes naturally quite distrusting.

 He chuckles, all tired and almost loving. “Scared of fucking things up; the truth is that I started to feel something for you before you told me you had feelings for me, and I knew I couldn’t act on anything because you’re Sami’s sister,” he takes another step closer, “but hearing you admit your feelings… I didn’t think I could pretend I didn’t share those feelings. I lashed out because I didn’t know what else to do.”

 “You expect me to believe that,” his smell engulfs you, fuzzing your thoughts.

 “It’s the truth.” His hand brushes your elbow, a silent plea for you to face him. You can see him out of the corner of your eye, standing to your side, head low and shirtless. God, you’ve been staring at his shirt.

 You turn, slow and deliberate.

 The bags under Kevin’s eyes are the first thing you notice, even in the lack of light; he certainly wasn’t lying about not sleeping well for days. Next, you see just how bloodshot his eyes are — not to mention the puffy pink surrounding them. He’s been torturing himself with that video, it seems. God, you want to believe it. Believe him. How can you, though? After what he said?

 He reaches out to you experimentally, gently grabbing your elbow when you don’t move away. He pulls you to him, closer and closer, until you’re practically touching. His hand remains gentle on your elbow as he stares down at you, tired. It occurs to you that maybe he’s searching your eyes for something, but the only thing you can really focus on is the heat radiating off of his body.

 You have to get out of here.

 “I need to go,” you break your gaze, eyes settling on the floor.

 “You could stay here,” his whisper is that of a begging man, “you don’t have to go back to them. We can— we can fix things, build something here.”

 You shake your head, pulling away. “No, you went too far.”

 His grip tightens on your elbow, not allowing you to leave but not painful. “I’m sorry.”

 Tears bubble in your eyes, but you refuse to let him see that. “Why are you doing this?”

 “I don’t want to lose you.”

 You scoff.

 His free hand comes up to grip your chin, forcing your head up to look him in the eyes. He’s gentle, but firm. A tear trickles stubbornly from your eye, down your cheek, and onto the hand. His eyebrows furrow, and his gaze is so sickeningly sweet. He’s never been so sweet. God, why the fuck is this happening? You have a family now. You don’t need him.

 The warmth of his lips on your own and your eyes fluttering closed beg to differ.

 His kiss is bruising — hungry yet so very tender, and not all at once. His hand on your chin falls to your waist, pulling you closer into him. Your hands come to rest on his bare, warm chest. Warmth pools deep in your stomach — a contentedness you have craved for so long. His bare skin is so warm against you, engulfing you in the best and worst embrace you will ever have in your life.

 Your lips move in sync with his own; a beautiful, intricate dance of two souls melding. And yet, tears flow freely down your cheeks. You know you cannot stay; you will not stay, not after everything, no matter how sorry he claimed to be. But this, this is something that you can allow yourself just this once.

 “I won’t let them take you from me, not again,” he murmurs half to himself as he breaks your kiss, mouth coming down on your neck in peppering kisses. The heat of his kiss burns — a bittersweet memory for later.

 His name comes to your lips, but you cannot bring yourself to say it. You don’t want to ruin the façade that you have going; this is a dream, a bittersweet dream, and nothing more — saying his name would make it too real. Your heart can’t take that.

 A sweet, soft mewl leaves your throat when he bites down on  your neck, suckling and lapping at the skin caught between his teeth. He’s going to leave a mark. You’ll be in for a lot of trouble if someone sees it. And yet, you cry out in delight when he bites down harder, harsher. It’s a delicious mix of pain and pleasure, scorching your skin. You don’t care that it could be your downfall.

 Your hands grip at his chest, squeezing and appreciating the warm, soft muscles. He’s always been so strong, yet so soft. He was made by the gods, you’d always been convinced of it — a marble statue meant to tempt. And tempt he did as his bite turned once more to peppering kisses, littering your skin with flames of passion all the way down to your navel.

 He looks up at you, eyes holding devilish thoughts with the most angelic presentation. His chest heaves up and down, overwhelmed with you, with the situation. Your breathing matches his. You nod, granting him the silent consent he desperately needed. All at once, you were lifted and laid on his bed, shirt bunched up beneath you.

 His hands, now given permission, are greedy, kneading at your skin with such force it’s a wonder you don’t bruise on the impact. He pulls at your shorts, peppering your hips with his flames. His mouth moves to your covered mound, kissing and biting so gently — teasing. Eyes find your own as he takes your panties in his teeth, pulling, pulling, pulling. His beard scratches and tickles at your thighs the lower he goes.

 “Please,” the word slips from you, so quiet and yet a shout in the otherwise silent room.

 Slow and wet is his tongue against your skin, licking a stripe up your cunt. A moan bubbles through your throat, back arching into the air at the sensation. Fingers entangle themselves in his short hair, scratching at his scalp. He smiles against your skin, licking another stripe and another and another before he comes down hard on your clit. His tongue swirls, flattened against your skin, and your head swirls with it.

 One hand digs into your thigh, bruising the flesh beneath his fingers; the other hand snakes up your other thigh, toying with the lips of your cunt. He laughs when you groan at the lack of stimulation. Two of his fingers circle your hole as he sucks hard on your clit, and you think you’re going to come undone, but the sensation of his fingers stretching you is what sends you over the edge. He smells too good, feels too good, and you’ve dreamed of this.

 His fingers pump against your walls, scissoring and swirling and pushing. His bite is on your thigh, marking you through your orgasm. You whine, pulling at his hair. He looks up at you, eyes hooded with absolute lust. His fingers leave you. You go to whine again, but it catches in your throat when you see that he’s undressing. Slowly, his cock bounces from his shorts, landing heavy against his lower stomach.

 Is this really happening?

 He climbs on top of you, propped up by his hands. He stares down into your eyes, a soft, loving look engulfing him. You’re not quite sure what you look like now; wide-eyed, in awe, possibly upset? It could be anything. You’re not sure how to feel after all, but you know that this is something that you want.

 Your eyes roll into the back of your head when he presses his cock into you, burying himself to the hilt. It burns deliciously. He grits his teeth together as he tries to control himself. Shallow, sweet thrusts follow. He kisses you, sweet and chaste, but you do not need his sweet; you need him to fuck you, just this once, nice and hard so that you’ll never forget him.

 He seems to catch onto your need after a few seconds, thrusting harder, harder, harder until you’re nearly screaming underneath him. He’s growling, an animal above you, cursing and muttering all of the nasty things he wanted to do to you, speech so slurred you can’t quite make out anything he’s saying. His knuckles are white, hands tangled in the covers of his bed, holding on for some kind of grip. He decides your hips are more suitable, moving his bruising grip to them, using your body against his.

 Your body shakes beneath him, and you see nothing more than black and stars, gone to the world in ecstasy. He collapses down onto you, heaving, thrusting with all of the power in him. He’s so heavy, but it feels like heaven against your burning skin. He turns, pulling you with him, thrusting into your tired cunt with enough force to lift you off of him. He growls, coating your walls with his own orgasm. His body shakes beneath yours.

 His arms wrap around you, holding you down against his chest. You relish in the moment, closing your eyes, trying to catch your own breath. He kisses your hair, so very tender and sweet.

 “I love you,” and the dreaming is gone.

 You sigh, pushing yourself into a sitting position. You look down at him, and he looks up at you with his own kind of love in his eyes. Unfortunately, his love comes far, far too late.

 “You can’t mention this to anyone,” you say, climbing off of him despite his hands reaching to bring you back down to him. “If it gets out, we’re both going to be in for it.”

 “You’re leaving.” He states, the hurt in his voice palpable.

 You nod. “I told you this wouldn’t be— we can’t fix what happened. Not now, maybe not ever,” you work yourself back into your panties and shorts as you speak.

 He frowns. “You don’t believe me.”

 “I don’t— but that’s not the only reason I’m not staying,” you turn away from him, “I can’t leave them behind now. They’re family.”

 “Don’t bullshit me,” he scoffs.

 “I’m not. I care about them. They were there for me when you weren’t,” you snap, walking to the door. “Goodbye, Kevin.”

 You open and close the door before Kevin can say anything more — before you can lose your senses to him yet again. If you were to stay, to allow him to speak to you, to feel him all around you, you wouldn’t go back to your family; he was the devil, and he could persuade you to do anything he wanted, even that, even now.

 No-one is in the bright, blinding light of the corridor, and you are beyond thankful for that. Your steps are less cautious as you make your way to the stairwell, leaking the remnants of Kevin into your panties with each step; you want nothing more than to get back into your hotel room to wash the deed away, to hide your misdoings against your brothers.

 Again, your footsteps echo up the stairwell — and again, there is no-one there to hear them.

 You step out onto your floor, pleasantly surprised at the lack of life around; the guilt, for the time being, is less because there is no-one around to expose you for what you’ve done.

 When you reach the door to your hotel room, you carefully inch it open and sneak inside. No-one is awake, it seems, and no-one stirs as you enter the room. Sami snores peacefully on his back; the twins are out of sight; and Solo— where the hell is Solo?

 “You thought you was slick sneaking out, didn’t you?”

[wraenata]

I HAVE A QUESTION

i wasn't sure how to ask without looking like a complete creeper, but something i noticed on ROTTMNT fanwork is all the dni tcest tags (which I understand because that is one of the worst ways to look at the boys). thats p common in any fandom to have one bad trope everyone is against

my q is, does tcest exist???? is the fandom really good at destroying it? i haven't seen a single fan created thing that could have even hinted at it

which is awesome!!

don't get me wrong

i'm just shocked its mentioned SO MUCH and i haven't come across it

TW tcest mention

Sadly yes it is. I actually have the tcest tag filtered, but not all tcesters even tag their shit that way. I scroll the rise tag a lot and have come across untagged tcest :(

Once I saw some really cool art in the rise tag and thought, hmm, I wonder if this artist has more cool art! Clicks on their bio, scrolls, ends up seeing tcest :( It was not tagged tcest it was tagged leotello, so now that is another tag I went and filtered before I blocked them. Some artists will post tcest and non tcest art, but frankly I don't want to support art from a tcester so if I ever reblog something from a tcester let me know so I can delete it.

I did not know that filtered tags showed up when I search the rise tag, but one post showed up the other day. I thought well hey a great opportunity to block said person I guess. It was a whole post about tcest supporters on tumblr ewwwwwww. Well, took that opportunity to go through and block as many of those as I could, there were a lot of reblogs :( Fortunately it looks like most of those blogs put they are tcest supporter blogs in their bios so they are easier to spot if you ever stumble across them in the wild.

But yeah, it exists. If you go on ao3 and search the rise tag, you need to blacklist like every.single.combination. Idk maybe there is a way to save filtered searches but I just keep my one window open all the time on my phone with my 45 million tags blocking out the tcest cause I don't want to see that.

Also, because I have seen some people get confused, on ao3, 'character a/character b' is a romantic pairing, and 'character a & character b' is a platonic relationship.

I'm not one for drama, just a block and move on if I see it. But some people do put tcest dni on their posts too. I know it can be really frustrating and gross if you posted some wholesome hugs or something and some gross person tags it as tcest. Certainly not a good feeling.

Hope that answers your question!

[little-cereal-draws]

Hello!

Just read you had aspec Moon Knight posts you deleted, after reading you were looking for some aspec Moon Knight fics while I was searching your blog for more fics after I read your voicemails fic (it broke my heart in the most delicious way lol).

Anyway, from what I gathered, you were criticized for these posts and I understand why you deleted them. But as an aroace Moon Knight fan as well, I'd love to read a bit about your ideas!

Would you mind sharing, privately if you want? Like sending me an ask or DM'ing. me.

Again, totally understand if you don't want to.

Have a good day!

Hello! I never actually deleted any posts, just the harassing comments on posts. The existence of those comments just proves why I need to leave them up anyway. No aphobia on my blog! 😤

Anyway, idk how far you went back in my posts, but I have a ton of aspec moon knight stuff because the fandom needs more of it, especially the tumblr fandom. (Like, I get it, people think Oscar Isaac is attractive. I don't need to go into the moon knight tag and instantly get bombarded by hundreds of self-insert smut. Even tho that's what tumblr does... sigh) So, I thought I would make as much aspec content as I could to cater to the ppl who don't want smut constantly on their dash lol

Here's a master list of all of my stuff and some of other people's stuff I've found

My stuff:

Layla x the boys headcanons, I was still too scared to explicitly say they were aroace at this point but there is no romance lol

Steven's love language, just a quick headcanon bc I needed to project a bit lol Not explicitly aspec related but I thought I would include it

Touch Adverse Jake Headcaonons, not explicitly aspec related but I thought I would include it. Goes into his unhealthy relationship w Khonshu a bit

Aroace headcanons for the boys:

Demiromantic and demisexual Marc (has sexual content)

aroace Steven

touch adverse/sex repulsed Jake (has sexual content)

Steven and Layla should be in a qpr, It's literally what I just wrote there lol

Layla's lullaby, A fanart I did right when I finished the show

Going on a Queer Platonic Museum Date with Steven Grant, A self insert for aspec ppl

Moon Boy Playlists, Youtube playlists I made for the boys. Not explicitly aspec related but I did try to include at least one aroace song in each of them; some have more than others. (has sexual content, violence, drugs, self harm, suicidal thoughts, and panic attacks. Most of these topics are on Marc's playlist but are on all of them)

Other people's stuff:

Aromantic Moon Knight icons by @embrace-the-laters-gators

Asexual Moon Knight icons by @embrace-the-laters-gators

Gus pride icons by @embrace-the-laters-gators (includes aro/ace flags but has many different options)

Ace Steven icons by @adhd-orion

Perilune by @pokimoko on ao3, "In which Layla and Marc go to a party and share an important talk, Layla and Steven go on a date under the stars, and Layla and Jake go out for breakfast and come to a realization." (This is literally the best moon knight fic i've ever read, i highly recommend this one. All the boys are aspec and layla is an angel)

Dear Fellow Traveler by WastelandWalkin on ao3 (idk if they're on tumblr. if someone knows, pls tell me), "There are four of them now. Jake Lockley is the first to notice this. Jake Lockley is the first to notice most things." (I haven't actually read this one yet so idk if it's any good, but it's got queerplatonic relationship in the tags)

Aroace Jake headcanons by @tiptapricot

Jake and Layla's relationship headcanons by @mockspector

Aroace Jake headcanons by @mockspector

Bonus:

Aroace Jack Russell by @h0wv3ry

[vegalume]

Vendredi

Halloween 2023

By Vega-Lume

Duo's friends are vanishing, and no one else notices or even remembers. Only Heero believes him and together they try to discover what is happening.

read on AO3 HERE

Friday the 29th

“Hey guys,” Duo calls out as he joins his friends for lunch. He looks around noticing they’re one man short he asks, “Where’s Wufei?”

“Who?” Quatre asks, not looking up from his menu.

“You know, Wufei. Black hair, dark eyes, dating Zechs’ sister.”

“I’ve never met Relena’s boyfriend.”

“What?” Duo asked, turning to Heero. “We’ve known the man for a decade!” 

“I don’t know who you’re talking about. I’m sorry.”

Duo let out an exasperated sigh. Determined to believe they were playing a joke on him, Duo lets it go.

All night he thinks about the way the guys were at lunch. There was something off about it, more than just a joke. Whatever it was though, he couldn’t figure it out.

He stops at Wufei’s office Monday morning, only to find that it’s someone else's office. Looking like it had never been his friend's office at all.

“Hullo Agent Maxwell,” the woman in the office greets like she knows him, but Duo had never seen her bore in his life. “Anything I can help you with?”

“Um, no. Sorry to bother you.”

She simply frowns and turns back to her computer.

He turns away and walks right into Sally.

“You alright there, Duo?”

“Sal, where’s Wufei?”

“Who?” she asks.

“Not you too!” Duo snaps, “Seriously, this isn’t funny anymore.”

“Duo, I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Last Thursday at 5pm, one of my best friends was in that office getting ready to leave for the night. Friday morning no one, including you, who used to date him, even believes that he existed! I have over a decade of memories of this man and it’s like he’s been deleted out of everyone else’s minds.”

There’s a look of concern on her face but she doesn’t say anything.

“At first I thought the guys were playing a joke on me, but now she- whoever she is, is in his office and you claim not to know him either. What the fuck is going on here?”

“She… Eliza has always been here, Duo,”  Sally said gently. “That’s always been her office. Did you really not know her name?”

“Don’t even know her fucking face,” Duo snapped and Sally grabbed his arm, leading him towards her office.

She had him sit while she did a quick examination. She asked if he had hit his head recently or was experiencing headaches or blurry vision.

She poked and prodded., and apparently he passed for now, because she let him leave with a small frown on her face and instructions to get some sleep.

He ignored her and went to his office. Heero was there, of course, already hard at work.

“You’re late,” Heero commented, not looking up from the file on his desk.

“I was talking to Sally,” he replied as he picked up the phone and started dialing a number. “She said I need to get more sleep.”

Heero’s eyes met his for a second, and then went back to the file.

The call connected.

“Casper’s Deli, this is Marla speaking. How may I help you?”

“Oh, sorry. Must have dialed the wrong number.” Duo hung up and dialed again.

“Casper’s Deli, this is Marla speaking. How may I help you?” the same woman answered again. Duo hung up again.

“‘Ro, did Relena change her number again?”

“Who?”

Duo felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on him.

“N- Never mind,” he stammered. “It isn’t important.”

He took several deep breaths, his hands clenched in fists in his lap so Heero wouldn’t see them shaking.

“I need to talk to Zechs for a moment.”

Heero nodded and Duo fled.

He hid in the bathroom for a good half an hour before seeking out Zechs.

“I need to talk to your sister,” he said without a greeting.

“Funny,” Zechs scoffed. “You’ll have to try better, Maxwell. Everyone knows I don’t have any siblings.”

Duo nearly ran back to his office and pulled up the search engine on his computer and entered Relena’s name. Nothing. Not a single searchable public record of her existed.

He then searched for the Gundam pilots.

Here he found loads of hits, but only for four. Just four.

“I’m going home, ‘Ro. I just- I can’t be here today.”

This time Heero actually looked up at him.

“Are you ok, Duo? You look pale.”

He let out a near hysterical laugh, “to be honest I think I’m going mad. Fuck.”

“Tell me,” Heero said as he came around the desk and crouched beside him. “Help me understand.”

Duo let out a shuddering breath.

“Remember on Friday I asked where Wufei was?” Heero nodded. “Well, Wufei is, was, one of us. A Gundam pilot. Only now he’s gone and no one remembers him but me.”

Heero frowned and settled back to sit on his heels. “And Relena,” he asked.

“Now I can’t find her either. Gods ‘Ro, she’s your best friend and you didn’t know her. She’s Zechs’ sister and-”

“Zechs doesn’t have any siblings,” Harry replied, sounding confused.

“That’s exactly what he told me! And I Googled her and there’s nothing. She was a fucking Queen for God’s sake and she’s just gone. And Fei, there’s nothing on him either, just news on the four of us, but he was our fifth. My best friend and he’s gone.”

Heero rose up and pulled Duo into a hug.

“What if you’re next,” he whispered. “Or Kat?”

“I can remember them, so they should be fine. Right?” Heero asked.

“I guess,” Duo replied. “But you remembered Relena last Friday and she’s gone now.”

“We’ll call them,” Heero said as he got to his feet. He picked up Duo’s phone and called Trowa first. Cathay answered and chatted for a few minutes while they waited for Trowa to come to the phone.

They only spoke a short while as Trowa was working, but it was enough to put Duo’s mind at ease, at least for a while.

They called Quatre next and he answered right away. Again he was fine but busy and only able to talk for a short while.

“Feel better?” Heero asked gently.

“For now, yeah,” he replied.

“I’ll stay with you,” Heero assured him. “Until we figure something out.”

“Thanks, ‘Ro.”

Friday the 6th

Duo had been twitching at every sound for days, expecting someone else to just pop out of existence, and now he and Heero, who hadn’t left his side since Monday, stood looking down at their usual table, only it was smaller and Trowa wasn’t there.

Duo’s vision almost blackened as he felt faint at the idea that Trowa was the next.

“Duo?” Heero asked. “Is it another one?”

Duo nodded. “Trowa.”

Heero frowned and looked back at Quatre who seemed confused.

“Do you remember Cathy?” Duo asked quietly.

Heero shook his head, paused and opened his mouth, his expression looking pained.

“I don’t understand.”

“What’s going on?” Quatre asked, but Heero and Duo’s focus was on each other at the moment.

“We called her last week, do you remember that?”

“Yes, and she gave the phone to someone else.”

“Yes! That was Trowa, only he isn’t… here now.” Duo finished quietly.

“How?”

“I don’t know, but that’s what happened to Wufei and Relena last week. We need to call Cathy and see if she’s still there and if she remembers him.”

They turned to leave the cafe but Quatre jumped up and followed them. “What’s going on?” He demanded.

“We’ll explain at the office.”

They told Quatre everything, but it was clear he didn’t believe a word Duo was saying and mildly scolded Heero for going along with the joke.

“I’m going home,” he announced an hour later finally fed up with the joke,

Duo begged him to stay, but Kat was having none of it and Duo had the sinking feeling that as his friend walked away, this would be the last time he saw him.

“What do we do now?” He asked Heero.

“We try calling Cathy.”

“Ok,” Duo agreed.

She answered, only she didn’t know him this time, Heero, or Trowa and scolded him for the prank call before hanging up.

Duo rubbed his eyes hard. 

“Last week Wufei was gone by lunchtime, and everyone still remembered Relena then, but by Monday I was the only one who still did.”

“So someone else could vanish this weekend.” Heero stated.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Duo replied.

“We’ll call Cathy again on Monday and if she answers then we’ll know she’s safe.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll stay with you the entire time, just like I have been.” Heero assured him.

“Thank you, ‘Ro. Not only for staying, but believing me as well.”

“There really is something going on, I can feel it too. I knew someone was missing today, I just didn’t know who.”

“I wish there was another person who believed us.”

“Who haven’t you talked to yet?”

“Only Une, but with the way Sally acted I’m afraid of what she’ll do. Maybe have me locked up for being insane.”

“You’re not crazy,” Heero replied. “I really do see it too.”

“Mass hysteria?”

Heero chuckled. “I don’t think two count as a ‘mass’.

“Let’s go home, I can’t stand being here today.”

They spent the weekend constantly in each other’s company.

It was hard to sleep. Duo woke after just minutes and confirmed that his death grip on Heero’s hand was indeed still on Heero’s hand. If he was hurting the other man, he never did say, and was still at Duo’s side every time he woke.

By Monday morning they both looked terrible but they went into work and called Cathy first thing.

She answered. Duo hung up and nearly sobbed.

“We should walk around,” Heero said gently. “See if anyone else is missing.”

That looked like the absolute last thing Duo wanted to do, but he agreed and they walked through HQ. Everyone and everything seemed as it should be, and the more they found right the worse Duo felt, because he knew. 

He knew.

Heero followed silently as they walked back to the office.

Duo sat at his computer and entered a name.

No results.

No Quatre. 

He buried his face in his hands and sobbed.

Heero crouched beside him and looked up and read the name in the search bar.

“Wait, I remember him, I think.” his forehead wrinkled in thought. “He had sisters?” he finished hesitantly. “We could call.”

“I can’t,” Duo whispered. “I can’t call and have him not be there, for his sisters to confirm over and over that he no longer exists.”

“We need to go to Une; we have to convince her somehow.”

They walk to her office and see someone else's name on the door.

“It can’t be,” Heero said. “I remember her. I know she should be here.”

“Hello boys,” Sally says as she walks by.

“Where’s Une!” Duo demands, rounding on her and stopping in her path.

“Une?”

“Yes,” Heero says, coming to stand by Duo. “The director.”

“Conrad?”

“No, not whoever that is. Une, Anne Une. You’ve known her since the war!”

“Duo, I really don’t-”

She didn’t finish as Duo grabbed her shoulders and shook her.

“Yuy,” she snapped, jerking herself out of Duo grip. “Get him out of here, now. Before I put in a recommendation for termination of his employment.”

Heero slung an arm around Duo and led him away.

“Fuck, ‘Ro. Fuck. Fuck!” he kicked his wastebasket, sending it rocketing across the office. He dropped to the floor with his back to his desk. “Why me? Why is it me that can remember them and no one else?”

“I remember Une,” Heero replied, sitting down beside him. “And Quatre. A little of him anyway. It’s more of an impression than an actual memory.”

“It was two last week, and three this week. There’s only the two of us left… What do we do?”

“We search the classified records and go to their homes if we must. There has to be something we’re missing.”

Duo slumped sideways and rested his head on Heero’s shoulder. “Gods, I miss them so much.”

Though Sally had told them to leave, they holed up in the office for days searching through the classified records of the HQ, old OZ files, any place that would, should have something on the Gundam pilots.

Absolutely nothing on anyone other than 01 and 02.

No military records on Une.

No birth or monarchy records for Relena.

No proof at all that Wufei, Trowa or Quatre ever existed.

They spend the rest of the week talking to others who might remember. Noin. Hilde. Other past war time contacts.

No one remembers or believes them.

They visit their homes finding other people living there, their parking spaces with different names on them.

Winner Industries was now run by Quatre’s father, who was somehow now alive again.

Dejected, they go back to Duo’s apartment and wait.

It was Thursday night.

Friday the 13th

Heero and Duo were silent as they sat on the bed, clinging to each other in fear. 

It was Friday now, though only an hour past midnight.

“I’m so scared,” Duo whispered.

He holds Heero’s hands tightly between his, clutching them close to his chest. Afraid to sleep. Afraid to close his eyes too long. 

He feels Heero squeeze back every minute or so.

His eyes slide closed. “Thank you for believing me.”

They blink open again an instant later and he looks down at his hands, no longer clutching Heero’s, but grasping his own as if clasped in prayer.

He closes his eyes again and lets the darkness take him.

Owari

[gimmethatagustd]

Hi!! Okay so this is a bit of a weird ask (??) but I just went on a ~trip~ through your blog and thought you'd like to know. Maybe. Possibly.

So, I randomly remembered about TFM Yoongi, and super super got the itch to re-read it again. I knew it was on hiatus (literally a few days after I first read it 🥲), but I had it saved on my ✨secret bts fanfiction side-blog✨and on ao3. Couldn't find it. Panicked.

Quickly skimmed through your masterlist and wips - no signs of life. Maybe yoongles took it with him to the army for some late night reading? I considered sending you an ask, but then I was like - No, poor babygirl author probably gets a bunch of these, I'd much rather go through their posts, than to be yet another "WhEre iS tHe fiC" random stranger.

So I did. Did I find any additional info on it? Why is it gone? No. We love tumblr's search function 👍 It's fine, I'm emo anyways, grief is my companion (joking - you do do. It was fire though, I miss it dearly. Jimin was so sassy "Miss Thang" omg. Also poc rep ?? Yes).

HOWEVER. I did notice the delicious amount of DPR IAN discourse (my husband actually) AND that one post about Logic's Supermarket (i have yet to read it but the album is so slay. I actually like it better than some of his "official" stuff oop-). And I just kept thinking, damn, I love the vibes here, we're practically besties at this point.

So I guess here I am??? I don't even read that much BTS ff anymore BUT 👀 I'm all up for more Adorable Representative MCs For Youth content on my dash. We ball I suppose. I hope you have a nice day/week/ whatever 💜

HI I'M SORRY I'M FINALLY RESPONDING TO THIS !! i've been such a mess the past few days from work, so i wanted to make sure i gave myself time to actually respond to this ask properly since you were kind enough to send me such a lovely message!

you are correct, TFM is gone 😭 i deleted it from tumblr and AO3 because i was unhappy with my writing and where the story was going. i was excited for it, and then everything kinda fell apart. I'm sorry!! a lot of people got mad at me for that LMFAO, but i really grew to hate that series, and i figured it would be better to just delete it. i didn't delete the actual fic tho. like i have all my writing saved. i've considered rewriting it to be yoonmin instead of a reader-insert cuz i lowkey hate writing reader-inserts but i still do it for my tumblr followers hjsdfks but that is TBD

i'm glad you enjoyed it tho!! i think i got in my head over it idk. i love the idea and the characters (and FUCK YES diamond was my favorite character. we need queer poc representation in fics~ one thing about me is i'm gonna always give it if i can in a fic 😤) but yeah ! ANYWAY

DPR IAN. i'm gonna write a drabble for him, probably in February~ so i hope you enjoy it when i do!

AND OMG ok i need to read supermarket soon. we can do a book club lmfao. i will 1000% be your bestie, i mean, we're already there atp like you said. dm me whenever you want ok ok ok

i'm happy to be a bts ff dealer for you if you're ever in the mood for it 🙏🏽 I'm honestly on tumblr for the vibes and friends atp so nice people like you are why i stay 🥹 i hope you're doing well !!! you're so nice

ALSO yes i stalked your blog and 👀 sleep token 👀 tbh idk anything about them but i know some of their songs and i am very into it