#referenced whump of a minor

[ashintheairlikesnow]

The Lights

CW: Pet whump, whump of a minor (OC is 17), some conditioned internal ableism, Oliver Branch is a goddamn creepy intimate whumper, isolation, captivity, referenced drugging

For @amonthofwhump day 4: Holiday light show

Chris’s masterlist

-

The grounds of the governor’s mansion are nearly silent as Baldur moves nervously, following his Sir. The blindfold - really a sleep mask, soft as fur against his eyelids and with elastic holding it on - keeps him dependent on Sir’s hand in his. It feels like being led by a leash. It should be comforting but it only makes Baldur shiver harder as a chill breeze seems to find its way up his sleeves and underneath the hem of the perfectly draped blue sweater his Sir had allowed him to wear with his usual soft pants.

His feet are bare, and the ground is so cold it makes his toes burn and tingle. Eventually, though, he doesn’t feel the grass very much at all.

“S-sir-”

“Ssssshhhh. Be quiet, sweetheart.” Sir’s hand squeezes his, once and then again. There’s laughter in his voice, and Baldur turns towards it like a flower finding the sun. If this is a game, he hasn’t given Baldur the rules. Not that it matters - even when he does know the rules, Sir almost always makes sure he loses anyway. “Remember your most important truth, darlin’?”

“Statue boys… are good boys,” Baldur says. His tongue hates the words, moves thick in his mouth around them, but he doesn’t have a choice. He says it anyway. It’s the first thing he learned from his handler, beaten so deeply into him he could say it in his sleep, he probably does say it in his sleep. “Silence is better than… than stammering. Stillness is better than what-... I do.”

“Good boy.” Another squeeze, and warmth that feels like rotten honey blooms in his chest. He finds a smile, but he doesn’t know if Sir can even see it or if he’s even looking. It feels good to be praised, but it feels like poison, too. Like the news story he saw on how sometimes animals eat antifreeze because they think it tastes sweet.

He can’t remember what antifreeze is.

But he knows what it means to have poison given to you like ice cream. 

The two of them move over the grass, the blades tickling Baldur’s bare feet. Dew hasn’t set in, yet, the grass is still dry. Then he is stopped, and Sir puts hands on his shoulders, turning him around in circles until he cries out with dizziness and tries to grab on to anything he can to keep his balance.

Sir’s hand claps over his mouth to muffle him as he comes to a stop, the man’s warmth and solidity just behind him, something to fall back against as his chest heaves with rough breathing. If only Baldur could trust his Sir to catch him if he fell, and not simply to watch him, and laugh, and bring his belt down again.

“Did I not just tell you to shut that pretty mouth?” Sir whispers against his ear, slowly pulling his hand away and back to his shoulder. Baldur’s eyes close as tightly as they can behind the blindfold to try and keep back the rush of hot tears, the only part of him that feels warm. “I still have security here at night, you know.”

“I, I know-”

“If they found you, I would go to prison, darlin’.”

“... Sir-... I’m sorry, sir-”

“And you know what would happen to you?” The whisper is suddenly vicious where before it was soft, and Baldur’s spine straightens, every muscle locking. But he can’t even begin to remember how to pull away.

“... I, I do, I know-”

“You’d go right back into WRU. They’d wipe you and start over again, only you’d be even worse off this time, sweetheart. Do you want to go back to WRU?”

“No! No, sir, please no, please-”

The hand claps tightly again. “I said be quiet, Baldur!” This time those fingers clamp painfully, jamming his lips against his teeth, until he whimpers. Only then does Sir slowly lift his hand, hovering, ready to press down again. 

Baldur swallows, his voice thick, heart racing just beneath his breastbone. His hands are shaking, his stomach has frozen inside him. “I’m s-sorry, sir, I’m, I’m, I’m-”

“Baldur.” His Sir’s voice drops, suddenly low and threatening. 

“I’m… sorry.” He fights his voice to keep it calm and low, soft and even, only a little trembling and not stammering at all. “Silence is better than stammering, silence is better than… I’m sorry, sir.”

“That’s better. Now… I did the unveiling officially earlier, I couldn’t show you that, but…” He lays a hand over Baldur’s eyes and pulls off the blindfold in the same smooth motion, keeping him in the dark. “One… two… three.”

Sir pulls his hand away.

There’s a pause.

“Well?”

“Um… Sir, may I… open my eyes now?”

Sir laughs, harsh and mocking, and Baldur feels blood pool hot in his cheeks. “Yes, Baldur, darlin’. That’s the idea. Oh, you stupid pretty thing. Look!”

Baldur opens his eyes, embarrassed that he didn’t understand that the game had changed, but then all sense of being worried and frightened fades as he takes in the sight of the governor’s mansion, just over the swell of the small hill they stand on. 

It’s lit up, not only the warmth of the lights inside and the grand Christmas tree in the big window, but with strand upon strand of lights hung from every conceivable surface all along the outside. His hands creep up to cover his mouth, instinctively muffling his own gasp. There are white lights, blue lights, red and green. Baldur’s eyes follow the shapes they create, draping from awnings and curving over the high doorways. His mouth drops open without him knowing it, and he leans back against the support his Sir provides behind him. There are warm arms over his chest and around his stomach, and he slowly rests a hand on each of them, ignoring how his skin crawls.

That’s less important than the lights, than the gift he is being given of getting to see them from the outside, not trapped within. 

“Sir… the house-”

“Mansion,” Sir corrects him, voice low and affectionate. “Let’s not sacrifice accuracy just because we’re a little bit starstruck, darlin’.”

“I’m sorry, Sir.” He whispers, but he can’t be frightened enough of the words. He can’t feel the fear he should feel. All he can see is the beauty of the lights. His eyes follow the trail of one set. It’s decorating the window to the room Sir eats breakfast in sometimes. Baldur has peeked through that curtain to watch the school buses come and memorize the knock-kneed nervous stride of the teenagers, so like him and so entirely different than he will ever be. “It’s… beautiful.”

“I know.” Sir rests his chin on top of Baldur’s head, and it’s the gentlest and sweetest he’s ever been. The pet closes his eyes briefly in something that would be contentment, if he wasn’t still terrified of the man who holds his entire life in his hands. His collar is buckled safely around his throat, a sign that he can’t be hurt too badly, not with it on. 

He’ll be safe, as long as Sir doesn’t take off the collar.

He never really feels safe, though.

“I’ll get some good press for this,” Sir murmurs. His voice is a low rumble, the vibration traveling through his chest into Baldur’s back right through the thin sweater. Baldur is still shivering in the cold, but Sir doesn’t seem to notice. “I was able to get some local businesses involved, so it didn’t cost the taxpayers extra. It’s good for my reputation. I’ve got an interview with the morning show tomorrow, Baldur darlin’, so you’ll need to sleep in a little bit until I’m done, hm?”

Baldur takes a breath, the beauty of the lights fading.

Sleeping in is a code, he knows, for being given extra pills to keep him unconscious in the bed while Sir sits across the room calling in using a camera on the television. Sir likes to flirt around the edges of being caught with Baldur, likes the adrenaline rush of it. He doesn’t care that it gives Baldur headaches when he wakes up, leaves him helpless and weak and nauseous, unable to eat and throwing up into the toilet sometimes, crying on the bathroom floor until finally he feels able to crawl into the shower and lay there under the hot water until it turns cold.

No, Sir doesn’t care about any of that. 

He likes Baldur that way. Likes to be the one who carries him back to the bed.

“Maybe if you look at them long enough,” Sir says, his smile in his voice - Baldur doesn’t even need to see his face. “You’ll dream about them while you’re sleeping through my interview. What d’you think, sweetheart?”

Baldur bites back and shoves down any honest answer that tries to fight its way out. Instead, he says softly, “I hope… I do dream of it. Thank you, Sir, for… showing me.”

Maybe if Sir is distracted enough, he can palm the pills, let them sit under his tongue and then spit them out and hide them behind the bed. Even if he has to lay still under the covers and pretend, curl up in the shower and plead feeling sick and listen to Sir laugh at him for being so weak, it’s better to pretend to feel those things than to actually have to feel them.

But, for just a second, when the hand first came off his eyes… he had seen only the lights. He had seen only the beauty of the house, and he hadn’t thought, in that second, at all about the ugly days he lives through inside.

Baldur stares at the Christmas lights until his eyes blur with the tears he hopes his Sir cannot see and punish him for. 

-

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @arlinthesnep @thefancydoughnut @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears @hackles-up @grizzlie70 @mylifeisonthebookshelf @mylifeisonthebookshelf @keeper-of-all-the-random-things

[whumpacabra]

Day 10: Killing in Self Defense

Captivity, forced to kill, muzzled, strangulation, murder, minor character death, referenced starvation and torture, vaguely implied mouth trauma and past noncon

[Follows Handcarved]

They looked tired. The Wolf wasn’t sure he looked much better, but the project volunteer across from him wasn’t a pretty sight. Glassy eyes were perched above old bruises, scabbed over flesh knit back together. Their hair was matted, dried blood streaking down their throat.

He was good. He never needed the muzzle. And god was he grateful his handler never wrapped that contraption over his face.

“Don’t worry, she’s completely disposable.”

“A biter?”

“Worse. Bitch wouldn’t stop mouthing off.”

The Wolf could hear another handler talking with his own on the other side of the glass. A false mirror giving them a clear view of sparse room. He could also see the cameras and speakers in the corner of the room at a glance. A recorded room. Unlike the Red Room. That meant he was safe here. As safe as he was allowed to be.

“Damn shame. You try my patented method?”

“A bit. Lesson never stuck - another wasted project for the files.”

“Pity. And here I was hoping Wolfie would get a new playmate.” The Wolf didn’t flinch, hearing his handle click a button behind the glass well before his voice echoed into the room. “Whoever lives gets to leave. Good luck.”

The volunteer’s eyes flickered to him, suddenly sharp and bright with vicious desperation. The Wolf stood still, hesitating (his handler would punish him later for not making a quick kill). His handler had never told him to hurt another project before, let alone kill one. The Wolf wasn’t supposed to fight back.

“Should we have given them weapons?”

“No, too easy to hurt themselves - let’s see what they come up with.”

The Wolf had been too focused on the words beyond the glass to react in time. The volunteer was weak - starved, bloodied, but they were far from helpless. They drove a knee into his gut, winding him. Even doubled over in pain and trying to find his breath, the Wolf knew they had maneuvered behind him, an arm snaking around his throat.

They were small enough and desperate enough that his clawing at their arm did no good - they had a hold on his windpipe and they weren’t releasing him of their own accord. Little did they know the Wolf’s handler had trained him well; he could keep conscious long enough to find a solution.

And the solution was fairly straightforward. He was large, well fed, and well trained. They were small, starved, and fragile from recent torture. He dropped to the ground, crushing them under his back and taking advantage of the stun to pry himself out of their headlock. The Wolf rolled to his knees, instinct begging him to leave them be as they struggled to remain conscious. One breath. Two breaths.

“What the hell is he waiting for?”

His handler sighed in response:

“He’s a little slow on the uptake.” The mic clicked on from the other room. “Kill her, Wolf.”

It was an order. Lesson number one: do as your handler says. And never hesitate.

The Wolf was on top of them in an instant, body moving half from muscle memory and half from the desperate panic to be seen as obedient. Still dazed, their hands were weak as they pushed against his own, which easily slotted under the metal of the muzzle to wrap around their throat.

And then, they opened their eyes.

The Wolf looked away quickly, knowing how easily he could betray himself if he lost focus. Lesson number one. No hesitation. His handler said kill, so he would kill.

The hands that scrabbled at his arms fell slack well before he felt their throat spasm it’s last and their pulse die under his heavy hands. Even then he held their throat with a bruising grip, knowing full well that if they weren’t completely dead he would be punished for disobedience. But now he hazarded to look down at them.

Those death glazed eyes held no judgement, no fear or hate or pain. Tears, still hot, fell from the unblinking eyes that looked up at him in an unmistakably tender gratitude. They weren’t supposed to survive. But at least they got out the only way anyone could leave this hell.

And he was jealous that they got to escape.

“Well done. Could have been a bit faster, but you’ll do better next time.”

[Before Volunteers]

(Part of my Freelancers: Swansong series)

[faofinn]

DAY 16: semi-conscious

@febuwhump

Everything was…hazy. Nothing really made sense, and he wasn't entirely sure where he was, or, if he was honest, who he was.

He was warm though, and rarely in much pain. There were people around, talking to him, but their words were fleeting and he never managed to make them out.

They’d been trying to get Harrison out for a long while. He’d been known to them from a young age, but his family were difficult and without formal social services intervention, their hands were tied. 

And then they got news that things had truly broken down with the family, that Hars was in hospital critically unwell, and that he needed the support of ARCC. A young wolf all alone, he needed a pack. Needed people behind him. Fred and Sheila had a lot on their plates, and so they spoke to Steve and asked him to reach out to the kid. He’d been doing such a great job working with the more troubled kids, and they knew he’d be a good fit to give Harrison the support he needed. 

So he headed to the hospital, intending just to touch base with Harrison’s care team, get some more information, and speak to the kid if he was up to it. He understood how critical things were, that he was still somewhat sedated amongst other things, but it would be good to at least see him. 

He’d bought a little stuffed animal, too. He knew it was daft, the kid was 13, after all. But it felt right, somehow, to offer him a little bit of comfort amongst it all. Hospital was a scary place, no matter how old you were. It was a little ginger tabby cat, the softest toy he’d found in the shop, and he hoped it would bring the kid some comfort. 

After a nice conversation with Harrison’s nurse, they let him into his room. It was quiet, aside from the soft noises of the medical equipment, and he took a careful seat next to the bed. The boy in the bed looked small, asleep under the sheets, pale with his hair a mess. As so not to disturb him, Steve carefully tucked the cat up next to him. After a moment’s deliberation, he took his hand, squeezing it gently. He wasn’t sure how aware the boy was, how much he’d remember, but he wanted to make an effort. 

“Hi, kid. I’m Steve.” He said, his voice soft. “You’ve really been through the mill. I’m really sorry it happened, but you’re safe now. Got a whole pack looking out for you.”

His words were gentle, as was his touch. He fought against the sedation, squinting at the man. He didn’t recognise him, though he doubted he would have anyway. The scents were all wrong, mixed with the sterility of the hospital. 

Steve hummed. “Hey. Didn’t expect you to wake up. It’s okay, you’re safe.”

He blinked slowly, taking a moment to just try and figure out what was going on. He finally noticed the new arrival on the bed, and frowned. It took a little longer for him to manage to reach for it with the hand not in Steve’s, a small smile playing on his face.

Steve smiled back. “Thought you might like a friend.”

"Mine?"

“Yeah, he’s for you.”

"Oh."

“He’s not got a name though, you’ll have to think of one.”

He almost gave a shrug. That was too much to think about.

“For later.” Steve soothed, aware the boy would be struggling. “Are you in any pain?” He asked gently.

He shook his head. It wasn't pain, just…uncomfortable. 

“No pain is good.”

Harrison hummed, shuffling slightly to get more comfortable. He instinctively pulled the cat closer, giving Steve's hand a soft squeeze. 

“That’s it, you get comfortable.”

It didn’t take much for Harrison to fall asleep again, and he soon drifted, safe and content. He woke a little while later, and couldn't quite believe the man was still there. 

Steve let him sleep, glad he was getting some rest. God knows he needed it. When he woke again, he didn’t move for a minute, letting him adjust to being awake again.

He gave a small smile, trying to clear his throat. "Hi."

“Hi.”

"It hurts a little."

“Here, where’s your button? We’ll call a nurse in.” Steve said softly, standing up. 

"I don't know."

“I’ll have a look, is that okay?”

He nodded, his lip trembling slightly. "I'm sorry."

“It’s alright, you’ve not done anything wrong.”

"I have." He whimpered quietly.

Steve easily found the buzzer, and pressed it to bring the nurse in. He sat down afterwards, not wanting to intimidate him further. 

He pushed the cat away from him, worried he was going to be told off. "I'm sorry."

“Hey, it’s okay.” Steve said gently. “The cat is yours and you don’t need to be sorry.”

"No."

“It’s alright, I’m not going to hurt you.”

"Why?"

“I’m not that kind of person.”

Despite the pain, Harrison struggled to stay awake, stuck somewhere between conscious and the past.

Hesitantly, Steve moved the little stuffed cat closer to the boy. “It’s alright. Nobody is going to hurt you now.”

"I wasn't bad." He murmured. "I wasn't."

“You‘ve not been bad.” Steve said, his heart breaking. “You’re alright. Going to get you some painkillers.”

"I didn't say anything." He looked straight through Steve, focused on something, someone that wasn't there. 

“It’s okay. You’re not in trouble.”

He gripped the cat absently. "I was good."

“You’ve been so good.” Steve told him. “You’re okay.”

Harrison gave a tiny nod, finally hearing Steve. "I was good."

“You’ve been so good.” He repeated. 

"Oh, Steve, you're still here?" The nurse asked, finally answering the call bell. "Is everything okay?"

“Hi, sorry. Wanted to stay until he woke again. He was saying he was in a bit of pain, I wondered if he could have anything extra?”

"Yeah, of course. I'll go grab him something. Bless, he's just getting used to being awake again, isn't he?"

“Yeah, he is. Trying to be a consistent person for him. Thank you.”

"He definitely needs that."

“Yeah, exactly.”

They weren't long, returning with some pain meds. She shook Harrison’s arm gently, speaking softly to him. "Hars? Sweetheart? Got your painkillers."

He gave a quiet noise in acknowledgement, too deep to do much else. She took that as his recognition she was there, it was more than most would usually get anyway. It didn’t take long to give and she hummed, stepping back.

"There you go, I'll leave you two alone."

“Thank you.” Steve said gently.

Harrison whimpered softly, reaching out for the older man. "Steve?"

Steve was surprised he’d remembered his name. “Yeah?”

"Thanks."

“Oh, you’re welcome.”

Harrison smiled then, still semi-conscious, everything still hazy. And for the first in a long, long time, he felt safe.

[samtheacesheep]

Work Description:

Melissa Chase breaks Milo Murphy, the villain, her sworn enemy, out of prison. Her view of herself and her world crumbles before her eyes.

[whumpitisthen]

Today Is His Special Day!

Tws: for child endangerment, minor whump (nothing actually happens, has happened or will happen, but whumpee strongly suspects that that may not be the case anymore)

< Masterlist

Today might be the single most stressful day of his entire life.

He has been trying to get ready for today for a few months now. More accurately, a few years. Since he was old enough to understand that life isn't quite as easy for everyone else around him. Quite as certain. Quite as safe.

For a long while he was under the impression that his life was insignificant and unfair; that everyone else had it better simply because they were adults. They worked because that was their job, that is what adults do. They are the responsible, smart, strong ones who were supposed to take care of him. His job was supposed to be learning, and having fun. Enjoying his childhood. And yet, he was working as much as anyone, in his own eyes.

However — a few years back, his visual on the world drastically changed.

He suddenly knew that life could be far worse for him. He witnessed what truly goes on behind the scenes; what everyone around him never had the heart to tell him. He saw the brutality from a front row seat, and no matter how he cried at his 'caretaker', they would not stop until they deemed the punishment severe enough.

Worst of all, the violence didn't end there. From then on, at an age much too young, he was shown again and again how good he really had it. Slaves, servants, colleagues, friends... None of them were free of their wrath. The smallest mistake could lead to horrifying results. An offhand remark could send them into such a lust for blood, the very air around him could be felt changing at the exact moment something inside them would snap.

His caregiver would hurt people. A lot. Physically. All the time. And they didn't even do it for the right reasons; though what could be considered the right reason to hurt anyone that badly is a mystery to him still. They did it because they wanted to. To force agony under their skins and watch them writhe. They found it amusing; sometimes alluring. The rush. The power. The fear. A twisted fascination for ruined bodies.

They would smile while beating someone into the dirt, laugh when they would scream in desperation. Sometimes, they would even lure them into a trap — they would have the unfortunate soul say something they didn't really mean, or do something they knew they shouldn't really do just so they could correct them.

He always knew his guardian was a powerful figure in the community he was part of; that much was clear in their mannerisms and actions, as well as the other's whenever they were around. He knew they were a little mean with other adults, but he chalked it up to nothing more than stress, or his own imagination. He always assumed it was normal; they were the boss around here after all, that is how someone who rules should act. They knew best, they held the well-being of the rest in their hand. Until he was allowed to see it with his own eyes; until he was no longer sheltered from the visible repercussions of misbehaviour by the person enacting judgement, he would have said he wished to be an outsider like all the others. Someone else, someone more important, someone people would pay attention to. He wanted to be older, so he could have a say in his own life.

Now, he is scared. His thoughts are racing. His skin crawls and shivers. He hasn't even got out of bed yet.

He has been scolded before, but never hurt. He works for the same person that would torture someone else for the hell of it, so the possibility is there. If he was allowed to see real punishment, it must mean there is a reason he was made aware of it. It's Chekhov's gun. Once shown, it will have to go off at some point.

He has to talk to them about it. He loves them, he really does. They are the one who take care of him, protect him, feed him. They make him laugh, let him sleep in their bed after a nightmare without hesitation, treat them with kindness. They are as close to a parent as it ever got for him. But his childish curiousity would have never allowed him to keep himself in the dark.

So they had the talk. He asked all the questions he wanted to, and his guardian answered each and every single one truthfully. He remembers every single word from that conversation so clearly, ironically, as if his life depended on that information; —

"Did you hurt Mr. Owen's eye the other day? His face was all bruised and he didn't seem to want to tell me why." — An off-handed start. Casual. Like it is a normal thing to conversate about over dinner.

"Yes. He spoke out of turn. You know I can't stand that." — They did it for no reason. Of course. That wasn't even a question.

"Have you been hurting everyone all this time?" — A little push. They should pick up on where this is going already. They surely do.

"Yes." — No elaboration needed.

"Why didn't you tell me?" — An important question.

"You were too young to know." — Ah. He was too young. Was. His heart stutters, but he trudges on.

"Why now?" — Was it intentional? A conscious choice? A decision, to expose him so suddenly to what lies ahead of him?

"It had happened already, and I could not take it back. You aren't a kid anymore either. I assumed you were mature enough." — It wasn't supposed to happen, but he is supposed to be able to handle it by now. Because he is not young anymore. He is old enough. Why does it feel like his ribcage is shrinking?

"Why do you hurt them?" — A pointless question. One to deter his own thoughts. He already knows the answer.

"Because they deserve it. Because they need to remember their place. Because I want to." — Because they want to.

"Isn't scolding them enough?" — A half-hearted suggestion.

"Not enough. Not for me." — If it was, they wouldn't take so much time out of their day to beat someone into a pulp as punishment for not keeping eye contact long enough.

"Why isn't it enough for you?" — A desperate question, though it comes out as smooth as a compliment.

"Why would it be? Why wouldn't I hurt them for messing up? That's how they learn." — How they learn. The ones powerless to stop them. If that's how they learn...

"...Why don't you hurt me then?" — A terrifying question. Almost an invitation. He hopes it doesn't come across that way.

"You're my family." — Right.

"You hurt your brother that one time too..." — A question, but hidden. If he deserves it, though he's also your family, how come I don't?

"Well, he's an adult, he can take it." — He's an adult.

He's an adult.

Of course. He hasn't seen them hurt anyone but grownups. All the ones that they are supposed to be on even grounds with. He doesn't see many people his age around, but maybe that's for good reason. The only kid around is him; taken under the wing of this sadistic monster.

He did not ask more questions, though one little thought he cannot chase from his mind. As he pulls air into his chest again by force, and lets it slither out of him in a hopeless sigh, the words are a constant buzz. He will have to ignore them for the whole day. He knows it will be impossible.

He will work the whole day like he does any other day because that's what he is supposed to do, like all the adults. He was taught well the consequences of failing to follow orders.

He will stumble home after an exhausting day — narrowly avoid breaking down in the doorway from the same words that were buzzing in his head having turned into screaming — to greet his guardian with a smile.

There they will stand with a warm expression, a present in their hands and a birthday cake on the table, proudly telling him he is an adult now. How incredible it is that's he's really all grown up. How he can drink, and see all the horror movies he wants, and all these other news that are supposed to be great and fill him with joy.

And there he will be, holding back tears, because the only thing running through his mind will be the one question that has haunted him ever since the talk, burning his throat; —

"Will you... hurt me, too?"

[actress4him]

>_>

<_<

~Psst~

Gimme 'Gilded Cage' for the bthb

For 'anyone' *wink wink*

This totally isn't someone you know o.o

*gasp*

Who could this be from?? And how did they possibly know that the very day this ask was sent, I was talking with Izzy about wanting to write something for the new AU using this prompt??

You must be psychic, Anon.

.

Introducing the new (well, not SO new at this point, but new to Tumblr!) Brumaria universe, The Royal AU. This piece is pre-Bruno, however, and hopefully sets up Kamaria's side of the story well enough that it doesn't require extra explanation. If not, feel free to ask questions, I love to ramble about ocs (especially Brumaria!) and aus.

Also this got, uh...really long, so, yeah.

Taglist: @painful-pooch (who obviously had NOTHING whatsoever to do with this ask), @badthingshappenbingo

Shadow of Death Masterlist

Fandom: Original Work

Prompt: Gilded Cage

Contains: fairly mild whump of a minor (14yo), lady whump, referenced parental death, referenced war, referenced fire, manhandling, non-graphic stabbing (not of the minor), hitting, prejudice, hunger, corporal punishment

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Kamaria slips in and out of the throng of people like a shadow, unnoticed by most. It’s market day - the perfect opportunity for making a living. While the people of Ethorcon shout and haggle and admire stalls full of goods, she eyes their wrists and belts. 

There’s a lady who doesn’t belong in this part of town, some noblewoman entertaining herself by watching how the simple folk live. It’s fairly common. Kamaria follows closely behind her and the girl who’s probably her maid, reaching easily between them to release the clasp of her golden bracelet and let it slide silently into her palm. She disappears immediately into the crowd again, waiting until she’s out of their sight before opening her fist and transferring the trinket to the hidden pocket she created for herself in the folds of her tattered skirt.

Brushing by a busy stall of dried meats, she tips a piece off the edge and into her other hand. It goes into her pocket, too. There’s already a pouch of roasted nuts nestled inside. She’ll eat one herself, and save the other for Aisling. The orphanage workers do what they can to feed them, but it’s never enough - which is why Kamaria takes to the streets as often as she can.

She won’t be able to stay for much longer, though. Too much time in one location is just asking to be caught, so she needs to make her last finds good ones. 

There are actually a few brave Navarians out today, risking the scorn of all the true Ethorconites and the prices that the merchants raise as soon as they see them. She skirts around the small group, letting her eyes linger for just a moment on the rich earth tones of their clothing. She misses when everyone around her was dressed like them.

Once she’s put some distance between herself and the other Navarians, not wanting to risk any possibility of them being accused of anything, she spots her next target - a man with a large shoulder bag. There’s not as much of a guarantee that she’ll snag something of great value, but she can’t help the curiosity that pulls her toward it. She sidles up nearly beside the man, waiting until his head is turned the other direction before she sticks her hand inside, fingers closing around the first item of substance she feels and smoothly sliding it back out.

She doesn’t look at her new treasure until she’s in a nearby alley. It’s…a knife. Small enough that the tarnished brass hilt fits in her not yet full grown hand. Carefully, she removes it from its sheath. The piece may be old, but the blade seems to be in good condition, and she can tell just by looking at it that it’s sharp. 

Thoughtfully, she tucks it into her pocket alongside the other items. This one she won’t sell, maybe. She likes the weight of it in her hands, the feeling of safety it brings. 

She takes her usual route back to the orphanage, crisscrossing through alleys and abandoned back streets. No one looks up when she walks inside. For the most part, the workers allow the children to come and go as they please. It’s up to them to arrive on time for meals if they want to be fed, and to come in before the doors are locked for the night if they want a bed. At first she thought she would hate it here, and she does hate that she’s stuck in the capital city of Ethorcon, no longer within the borders of what used to be Navar. But she can’t pass up the food and shelter the orphanage provides, and at least they don’t try to control her.

She hasn’t thought of leaving, anyway. Not while Aisling needs her.

The small girl’s brown eyes light up when Kamaria enters the bedroom they share with four other Navarians, the room next door reserved for several Ethorconite children. “Did you bring anything interesting this time?” she whispers in the language the two share.

The room is currently empty, so Kamaria sits down on the floor mat with her and begins to empty her pocket. She holds out the two food options first. “Which do you want?”

Aisling hums, considering, then taps her finger on the pouch of roasted nuts. Passing it over, Kamaria takes a bite of the dried meat before reaching into her pocket again. “I haven’t checked to see what’s inside yet,” she explains as she drops a small purse into her lap, tugging it open. The two girls eagerly count out the coins inside, then hurriedly put them back, Kamaria running to hide it beneath the broken floorboard before returning to the bed. 

“Look at this.” She displays the bracelet, and Aisling gasps in delight. 

“So pretty! Can I try it on?” Giggling, she holds out her hand.

Kamaria smiles a little and acquiesces, slipping the dainty, expensive piece around her frail wrist.

The girl laughs again, twisting her hand so that the gold catches the light. “Someday, I’m going to be a rich lady and own hundreds of jewels.”

Snorting, Kamaria takes the bracelet back. “Being rich isn’t anything to strive for. The rich think they’re better than everyone, but their lives mean nothing. Strive for…independence, instead. And a position where you can help those who can’t help themselves.”

She turns her back to place the bracelet inside the hiding spot with the purse, trying not to think too hard about Aisling’s future. The way things are now…she may not live to be Kamaria’s age, much less to achieve riches or power.

“Tomorrow I’ll take a bit of the money and buy us some more food.” She returns to the bed, settling down next to Aisling and leaning her back against the wall. She can still feel the weight of the knife in her pocket. “Is there anything you’d like me to look for?”

Popping one of the roasted nuts into her mouth, Aisling chews thoughtfully. “Apples,” she declares finally. “And chocolate!” 

Kamaria elbows her in the ribs, not too hard. “I stole the chocolate, you goose. We can’t afford luxuries like that.”

Aisling pouts, but it’s obviously playful. “Well then, can you steal some more chocolate next time you go out?”

Huffing a bit of a laugh through her nose, Kamaria shakes her head. “I’ll do my best.”

They sit in contented silence, munching their food, until a loud knock sounds on the front door of the house. Kamaria tenses, sitting up straight.

Aisling grabs onto her arm. “What is it?”

“I don’t know.” She tries to keep her voice calm, despite her body language. “Someone’s here. But no one ever visits.”

There’s a murmur of one of the workers answering the door, and a louder man’s voice responds. “We are here on behalf of His Majesty King Alaric, ruler of Ethorcon.”

Aisling’s grip on her arm grows tighter, whether in fear, shock, or excitement, she doesn’t know. Kamaria personally feels anger start to bubble in her chest at the mention of the man’s name. He’s the reason all of their parents are dead. He’s the reason that her home is a pile of ash, that she’s had to steal and beg and dig through rubbish for the past two years in order to survive. He’s the reason that they each take turns waking up during the night, gasping for breath with tears pouring down their cheeks.

“His Majesty requires a child. A Navarian child, to be exact.”

Another voice, slightly deeper. “King Alaric wishes to show his goodwill toward the former people of Navar by taking in one of their orphans as his own. They will be raised in the castle as royalty and afforded every advantage.”

“What a marvelous opportunity for one of our poor young ones!” That’s one of the workers. She sounds blown away. “They’ve all been through so much. Well, I can take you to see our boys over here, there are four of them -”

“Not a boy,” the first man interrupts. “We’re not looking for an heir to the throne. A girl will be more…suitable for him to bestow his goodwill upon.”

“Of course. We only have two Navarian girls, I believe they’re in their room.”

Kamaria jumps up off the mat and places herself in between Aisling and the door, allowing them to still see her but not come near. Her mind is racing with the conversation she’s just overheard. The king wants to adopt one of them. To turn them into a…a princess. It sounds too far-fetched to be true. All the Navarians know that he hates them. He invaded their kingdom solely to conquer it and extend his power, slaughtered them by the thousands, and now claims that they are citizens of Ethorcon but sits idly by while the real Ethorconites treat them like the dirt under their feet. And now he wants one as his daughter?

The door opens, and her hands clench into fists. The worker enters first, beaming. “Ah yes, here they are.”

Two men in rich attire enter, glancing back and forth between the two of them. The bald one looks her over closely, from her frizzy brown braid and dirt-streaked skin to her patched clothing and bare feet. “How old are you?” he demands.

She considers not answering, but doesn’t see the point in the end. “Fourteen.”

He sighs heavily. “That’s older than I was hoping for. Harder to train.”

The other man, the one with the deeper voice, nods toward Aisling. “The little one looks to be around the right age.”

The bald man doesn’t even glance her way. “She’s sickly, can’t you tell it just from the look of her?” He turns toward the worker, clearly exasperated. “You said these are the only two Navarian girls you have?”

“She wouldn’t be if you took her.” The words are out Kamaria’s mouth before she can fully decide whether she should say them. “She’s frail now, yes, but with proper food and access to a physician she’d flourish, I’m certain of it.” And she’d be able to be a rich lady with hundreds of jewels, like she wants.

She doesn’t want to be separated from Aisling, she’s become like a little sister to her. She isn’t sure, either, that the castle is the best, most loving place for her. But if it means guaranteeing her survival…

Besides, she has no intention of going with these men herself, and if she’s taken then there will be no one to look after Aisling, to bring her extra food. This is how it needs to be.

“I’m not taking that risk,” the bald man grunts. “The older will have to do. Come.” 

He nods his head toward the door before turning to walk out, as if he expects her to follow him just like that. Kamaria stands rooted to the floor, heart pounding and thoughts swirling.

“Come,” the other man repeats, holding out a hand to her. “You’ve been chosen. This is a great honor for you.”

“No.”

The bald man turns, and they both stare at her. “No?”

She lifts her chin, gathering her courage. “No, I won’t go with you. I don’t want to go, you’ll have to take her, instead.” She looks briefly back over her shoulder at Aisling, who’s watching everything silently with wide, fearful eyes.

Taking two slow steps toward her, the bald man huffs. “You behave as if you have any say in this matter, girl. We are acting on behalf of His Majesty, and you will do as we command.”

Kamaria’s anger flares. “His Majesty has never cared anything about my existence before, and he can live without it now. I want nothing to do with him. If he wanted to extend his goodwill, then he should have refrained from murdering my family and my people.”

The fury in her heart is reflected back at her in the man’s expression. As the other man mutters something like, “Are you sure that you want this one?”, he stalks toward her. She takes a few quick steps backwards away from him.

“I haven’t the time for this.” Lunging forward, he grabs her by her waist and yanks her into him, wrapping one arm around her and beginning to drag her toward the door.

Kamaria forgets how to breathe. For a moment, she’s one of the women that she sees in her nightmares, being carried off by laughing soldiers while the town burns around them.

She’s brought back to the present by Aisling’s screech. “Kamaria!” 

“No! Let go of me!” She fights, digging her heels into the floor as best she can, hitting and scratching his arm and anything else she can reach. “I’m not going anywhere! Let me go, I will not be your stupid princess!”

The knife in her pocket knocks into her leg as if politely reminding her of its existence. She clamors for it wildly, somehow managing to get it out and fling the sheath to the ground. 

“I said let me go!” She has no idea how to properly use a knife, but she has plenty of access to drive the point of it into his arm near the elbow. 

He curses loudly and she’s suddenly free. Knife still in hand, she runs back toward Aisling, who’s sobbing uncontrollably, only to be tackled to the floor by the second man. He pins her there, and she screams, memories from the night of the fire washing over her again. 

“The little minx stabbed me!” the bald man roars. “Get that knife away from her! You let these children have weapons?”

She can’t see anything but the wooden floor, but she tries to stretch out her arm so that the knife is out of reach. It doesn’t matter, though. The man on top of her holds down her arm and wrestles the knife out of her grip, handing it off to someone else. 

She should have just left it for Aisling. Now it’s gone to waste, like the bracelet and coins hidden underneath the floorboard that the little girl won’t be able to sell. 

“Get her out of here!” the bald man growls. “I clearly have my work cut out for me, teaching this one even basic manners.”

She’s flipped over onto her back, large hands holding her wrists tightly, then yanked up off the floor and thrown over the man’s shoulder. Beating and scratching on his back and kicking her legs doesn’t seem to faze him at all. Aisling screams her name again, and she cranes her head up to find her tear-streaked face. 

“Ai-Aisling…stay strong for me, okay? Stay…stay strong.”

The younger girl sobs again. “Please don’t leave me!”

She’s carried out the door and around the corner before she can respond. 

.

The carriage ride through town is tense. Kamaria is too angry and afraid to enjoy the novelty of it, crushed in between the two men on the bench seat. She tries to fling herself out the door at one point, and gets backhanded across the face so hard that she falls into the opposite wall.

It’s the first time anyone has ever hit her. With all of the violence she’s seen in her life, it shouldn’t feel as sickening as it does.

She spends the rest of the ride in her seat, staring at a spot straight ahead of her with her mind racing with thoughts of what’s ahead.

The second man walks her into the castle with a firm grip on her arm that she wants to shake off but tries her best to ignore. It’s obvious she’s not getting away from them anytime soon. She’s never been anywhere close to a castle before, much less inside of one, and despite her determination to hate every inch of it she can’t help but gape. Every surface seems to shine. The floor is cold beneath her feet, and when she looks down she can nearly see her reflection in it. Above her, the ceiling stretches almost as high as the sky itself, and staircases with polished railings wind up toward long balconies. 

“This way.” Her arm is jerked, and the bald man leads them through a door and into a series of hallways and stairs that seem to never end. Kamaria tries to memorize the route, in case she gets the chance to escape.

At last they go through another intricately carved door, into a room that looks to be a bedroom but is so huge it could fit an entire house inside. There’s a bed against one wall, with a blue canopy over it and heavy curtains at each post. Pillows are piled on top of the covers. In the corner sits a dainty table with two matching chairs, and on another wall a sofa with even more pillows. Opposite the bed, nearly the entire wall is taken up by glass doors leading out onto a balcony.

“These will be your chambers,” the man holding her arm announces. He glances over at her dumbfounded expression. “See, this arrangement isn’t all that bad, is it?”

She quickly reins in her shock, throwing a glare back at him. “I don’t want any of this. Not when it comes from him.”

The bald man whirls around and slaps her cheek, not nearly as hard as the first hit but enough to turn her face to the side. “We’ll start your first lesson now. You will refer to His Majesty with respect and honor at all times. Understood?”

She clenches her jaw and stares him down, refusing to respond.

Taking a step forward, he grasps her chin hard between his fingers, tilting her head back to stare down into her face. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” she spits. She understands. That doesn’t mean she’ll do it.

A quiet knock sounds on the open door behind her, and the bald man looks up and releases her chin. “Come in, let’s hurry this along.” 

Several women appear, most wearing matching plain dresses. Kamaria watches them warily. 

“Lord Roderick,” the one who doesn’t match the others begins, addressing the bald man. “This is she?”

“Yes. Get started right away, there’s no time to waste. You -” he turns his attention to the others, whom she guesses are maids -“go draw a bath. She’s absolutely filthy, and this hair is a disaster.”

She wants to snap something back about how he’d be the same way if he was forced to live on the streets and actually had hair, but decides to keep her mouth shut this time. It would likely only get her slapped again, unless he wouldn’t do it with the maids around.

A few of the maids curtsy and disappear through a door on the other side of the room. The woman who spoke approaches her, and the man finally lets go of her arm, going to shut the door to the bedroom. 

“I’m going to measure you for a new gown,” the woman explains, holding up a measuring tape. Without waiting for a response, she sets to work wrapping it around various parts of Kamaria’s body while the two maids that are left assist her and write down the numbers she calls out. Kamaria stands stiffly, unsure of what to do or where to put her arms. She’s uncomfortable with all the hands in such close proximity to her, but at least these are female and aren’t hurting her right now.

“I have everything I need,” the seamstress announces eventually. “The fabric and trim is already chosen, and we’ll all work on this tirelessly until it’s done.”

“Good.” Roderick gives a dismissive wave of his hand. “See that you do. If all goes well I want to introduce her to His Majesty by tonight.”

The three of them curtsy and exit the room. One of the other maids peeks out from the door they’d exited through. “Her bath is ready.”

Roderick places a hand on her back and prods her forward. A bath…actually sounds rather nice. She is filthy, though she’d prefer that not be pointed out by this horrid man, and she’s certainly not going to let on that she’s grateful for anything they’re forcing on her. 

The bathtub in the next room is, of course, also fancier than anything she’s ever seen. Roderick ushers her inside and leaves, and the maids immediately descend upon her, hands grabbing at her clothes. With a wordless shout, Kamaria swats them away, backing up until she bumps into the wall. 

“We only wish to help you undress, Your Highness,” one explains, as if that somehow makes their intrusion better.

“Keep your hands off me! I’m not a Highness, and I definitely don’t need help getting undressed! Nor do I need you watching me get undressed! I’m not a child, I can bathe myself perfectly well.”

Roderick throws open the door and steps inside again. “Lower your voice, girl. You’re a princess now, there will be no shouting and causing a ruckus.”

She glares at him, arms crossed protectively over herself. “I’m not a princess, and I’m not staying here so there’s no need for me to adhere to all your stupid rules. You may have conquered Navar, but that doesn’t mean that -”

Stepping forward, he grabs a fistful of hair on the back of her head. “I said to lower your voice, and unless you want your head shoved into the water in that tub, I suggest you also keep war talk out of your mouth.”

Kamaria snaps her mouth shut, fury sparking in her eyes. She doesn’t want to follow this man’s orders, but she has no doubt at this point that he’ll follow through on his threat and she’d rather not be drowned.

This can’t last. She keeps hoping maybe it’s a nightmare that she’ll wake from soon, but even if it is reality…it can’t last. Either they’ll realize that this is a terrible decision and send her back, or she’ll escape somehow. There’s no way that she’s actually going to be stuck here for more than…a few days, maybe weeks. 

So maybe, for now, she should just play along. Not enough to make them think that this actually is a good idea, but enough that she doesn’t keep getting hurt by this man. She can let her displeasure be known, but learn to stop before he gets too angry.

He stares her down for a few more seconds before deciding she’s done talking for now and releasing her hair. “Behave yourself and do as your maids say. Just hurry up and get in the bath.” Exiting the room, he slams the door shut behind him.

Kamaria narrows her eyes at the maids. Her maids, he’d called them. Well, if they’re her maids, and she’s supposed to be a princess, then they should listen to her, right? “I will undress myself. I don’t want you to touch me.”

The maids glance at each other. “I suppose it’s alright this time,” one replies. “In the future, though, Your Highness, your gowns will be much more complicated, and you’ll need help removing them.”

There’s no way she’s letting anyone put their hands all over her like that, ever. She’ll just have to figure out the so-called complicated gowns herself until she can get out of here. “And I don’t want you staring at me while I undress, either. Do royals have no sense of modesty, or is that an Ethorconite thing?”

Reluctantly, they turn their backs and allow her to undress and slip into the hot water herself. In all honesty, it feels extraordinarily nice, but not nice enough that she’s ready to turn her back on her people to indulge in it for the rest of her life. 

.

An awkward hour later, Kamaria sits in front of an ornate mirror, wearing undergarments that cover nearly enough of her to be an actual gown and are made of the softest fabric she’s ever touched. Each of the maids is yanking a comb through her still-damp hair, trying to get rid of the never ending tangles, while they discuss how to style it when they’re done.

“A braid,” she says simply.

One of them frowns at her reflection. “A braid is too simplistic, Your Highness. You’ll need something regal to meet His Majesty.”

“Then multiple braids. That’s how the Navarian nobles style their hair.”

The maid sighs, turning her attention back to a particularly stubborn snarl. “You’re a princess of Ethorcon now. Not Navar.”

Kamaria jerks her head away, putting a hand to her sore scalp, and glares into the mirror. “So? What is the point of the king adopting a Navarian if you’re just going to try to turn me into an Ethorconite?” She reluctantly lowers her hand, allowing the combing to continue. “We all know that he doesn’t actually care anything about ‘extending goodwill’. Which means the only reason for him to do something like this is to try to fool people into thinking that he does actually care about us.”

“You shouldn’t talk about His Majesty that way.”

She continues on without pausing. “And if that’s the case, then shouldn’t I actually look like who I am? Doesn’t he want to be able to show me off and make sure everyone knows that it’s a Navarian he’s taken in?”

These thoughts have been occurring to her through everything that’s happened, but saying them aloud makes them much more terrifying and sickening than turning them over in her head. She’s a trophy, that’s what she is. What he wants her to be, at least. A shiny new thing that the king can wave around and use to prove how wonderful he is, while continuing to do absolutely nothing to actually help her people.

“There will be an announcement of your adoption in due time, and the people will be informed of your heritage then. But Lord Roderick and His Majesty want you to look the part of the princess of Ethorcon. And braids are not part of a traditional hairstyle here.”

“But -”

The door opens, and Roderick strides back into the room. “Are you still arguing?”

She snaps her mouth shut, transferring her glare to his reflection before finding her courage again. “I will have a braid somewhere in my hair.”

“You will do what you’re told, or you’re going to regret it.” He walks up beside her, and she wraps her arms around herself, trying to hide her immodesty. He just grabs her chin again and turns her face toward his. “At least you clean up decently, though you’ll look much better once that hair is dealt with.” His other hand comes up to brush across the purple bruise that has begun forming on her cheek, and she flinches away. 

“Would you like us to do something to cover that, my lord?”

“Don’t bother.” He turns and walks back toward the door. “His Majesty will understand. I’m going to check on the seamstress’ progress and attend to a few other matters. Be sure her hair is finished by the time I return.”

She’s never had to sit still for so long in her life. It feels like all of her hair is going to fall out of her head by the time they’re done, but she does have to admit - to herself, at least - that they do a good job of making her curls look soft and shiny for the first time in two years. And the updo that they settle on is elegant and regal - for an Ethorconite, that is.

When she’s finally allowed a moment alone in the privacy of the bathroom, the first thing she does is tug out a section of hair on the side and braid it, then pins it back into place. She studies herself in the mirror. She’s thinner than she used to be. The last years have hollowed out her cheeks and made her collarbone more prominent, though nothing like poor Aisling’s. And now she looks ridiculous in this fancy foreign style, and she hasn’t even put on a gown yet. 

At least she has the braid now, though. She’ll cling to any part of Navar that she can, no matter how hard they attempt to strip it all from her.

Eventually the maid knocks on the door, probably worried that she’s doing something drastic like destroying all their hard work by adding a braid to her hair. While she was inside, the second maid brought up a tray with lunch from the kitchen. Kamaria can smell it as soon as the cover is removed, and finds herself drawn to the table where it sits. 

There’s so much food, and it’s all supposed to be for her. Poultry with a golden sheen, steaming vegetables, bread with butter pooling on top. For the longest time she just stares at it all. She wants it. The hunger that’s been a constant presence in her life for two years suddenly lurches to the forefront of her mind, demanding that she stuff everything on the tray into her mouth as quickly as she can. 

But she also can’t stop seeing Aisling’s face. She’s the one who needed this, not Kamaria. It isn’t fair, that she should sit here in luxury and eat her fill of the finest foods, while her friend stays behind and continues to suffer. 

“I can’t eat this.” She takes a step back, hand pressed against her stomach, eyes still fixated on the overflowing plate.

The maid sighs. “Why not, Your Highness? I understand that it’s not the cuisine you’re accustomed to -”

“I’m not accustomed to anything except scraps of whatever happens to be available!” she shoots back. “I just…I can’t. I can’t.” How can she explain that eating this food would feel like betraying the only person she’s cared for since losing her family? They wouldn’t understand, and they don’t need that kind of personal information about her.

“Well we’re not going to feed you scraps, Your Highness. You must eat.” She gestures to the food. “You don’t have to worry about going hungry anymore, all your needs will be provided for here.”

That’s the whole problem. But she’s right about one thing, she has to eat something. Especially if she ends up needing to escape from this place, if they don’t just kick her out, she’ll need energy and strength.

Reluctantly, she walks over and takes a seat and begins picking at the food. It’s delicious, but it’s so rich that she can barely stomach it, and guilt accompanies every bite. She only makes it through a small fraction of the pile before she’s pushing it away. 

“I’m full.” She waves a hand without looking at the food again. “The two of you can have the rest if you’d like.” This isn’t the orphanage, food isn’t a rare and precious commodity. It’s doubtful they want to eat your leftovers, Kamaria. Among the children it was incredibly rare for someone to leave any of their food, but on the occasion that it happened there would always be a tussle to split the rest.

.

She spends the rest of the afternoon being trained by first the maids, then Roderick, on the perfect curtsy with which to greet the king. Despite her disdain for the idea - and her great desire to come up with the most disrespectful greeting she can to substitute - she tries her best to copy them and follow the instructions, especially once Roderick arrives and starts threatening to slap her around again. He’s still not happy with her performance by the time they end the lesson, but throws up his hands with a sigh and declares that it will do for now.

Finally, the seamstress arrives with the finished gown. She’s forced to let the maids help her slip it over her head and lace it, partially because Roderick is still lurking and she doesn’t feel like being hit for arguing again, and partially because they were, unfortunately, correct, and she probably wouldn’t be able to wrangle all of the fabric and reach the laces herself. The dress is a deep red, and it feels expensive, silky and smooth and so much skirt that she feels twice as heavy once it’s on.

Roderick stares her down critically, a scowl permanently painted on his face. “I suppose you’re as ready as you’re going to be. You look the part, at least.”

“How did this braid get here?” a maid gasps, and Kamaria can’t keep a smirk from quirking her lips.

“Never mind, it’s hardly noticeable and we don’t have time,” Roderick growls. “Let’s go.”

Her nerves rise as she’s led through the castle halls once again. She’s only a commoner, she’s never met anyone like a king before, and certainly not King Alaric, whom she’s heard so many stories about. Obviously she doesn’t care anything about making a good impression on him. She’d rather he take one look at her and immediately order Roderick to send her back. 

But…this is the man who destroyed her country. This is the man who ordered his soldiers to kill her family and burn her home. 

At one point, as a foolish, grieving child, she’d sworn that if she ever stood in his presence she would kill him herself. Now she’s expected to pretend to be his daughter.

The doors to the throne room tower over her head, ornately carved and inlaid with gold. They swing open suddenly, and she finds herself in the largest room she could ever imagine, with the king staring down from his throne a great distance away. 

She freezes. Her feet won’t move forward, refusing to carry her into the same room as her mother’s murderer. 

A hand on her back shoves her through the doorway. She nearly trips over the long skirt of her dress, but still can’t take her eyes off the man at the other end of the room. He’s as stern-faced and intimidating as she’d imagined, face pale beneath his black hair and beard and eyes bright and intense. They watch her every move as Roderick gives up on her walking herself and drags her by the arm. 

The walk seems to go by in an instant and take an eternity all at once. Suddenly they’re at the foot of the steps that lead to the throne, and Roderick is pinching a bruise into her arm. Right, curtsy, she’s supposed to curtsy. Was she even planning on doing so? Maybe she was going to just stand here and refuse. It’s too late now, she’s already moving. Everything that they taught her this afternoon has escaped from her mind, though, and whatever motion she makes is clumsy and awkward. She can hear Roderick sigh quietly next to her.

“Your Majesty, may I present the Navarian girl that you requested. I’m afraid she will require quite extensive training before she’s ready to make an appearance as a princess, but rest assured that I am up to the task.”

King Alaric just keeps raking his eyes over her, stoic expression never changing. “How old is she? I thought you were getting a little one.”

There are so many things she should say to him, but they all stick in her throat. The emotions swirling through her chest are fighting against each other. She feels at once everything and nothing. 

“Fourteen, I believe she said. I was originally planning for younger, but unfortunately she was the best option.”

The words finally take shape and burst from her lips. “No, I wasn’t! Aisling was the best option, I told you so right then and there, she would have flourished here and she would have been happy to do whatever you wanted.”

Roderick grabs her arm in the same place he was pinching it earlier. “You will hold your tongue in the presence of the king,” he hisses.

She tries to pull away from him, glaring daggers. “I told you I didn’t want to come here. If you want a perfect, obedient princess then you’ll send me back, because I will not be her.”

“Shut up, girl!” He twists her arm hard, wrenching her shoulder, and she gasps in pain. “I apologize on her behalf, Your Majesty. As I said, she requires extensive training. And the other child she’s referring to was sickly and frail, so don’t let her deceive you. She was the best choice…” He throws her a disdainful look. “Such as she is.”

King Alaric leans back in his throne, expression still unreadable, as Kamaria continues to glower at them both. “I must say I’m disappointed. I was hoping to have something I could present to the people sooner rather than later. I trust that your outing was discreet, at least?”

“Of course, Your Majesty. The orphanage worker was the only one outside the castle who knew of our mission, and she was paid handsomely to hold her tongue until the proper time.”

The king sighs, looking her over one more time. “Fine. Start your training and make sure absolutely everyone knows that she is to remain unknown until I make the announcement. I’m counting on you, Lord Roderick, to make this work.”

“Yes, Your Majesty, I will not fail you.” He bows his head, still firmly gripping her arm.

“Does the feral child have a name?”

There’s a pause, and Roderick shoots her a look, jaw tight with anger. She raises one eyebrow at him - oh now you want me to speak? Now that someone is actually bothering to find something out about me? - and the anger grows. He jerks his head toward the king, prompting her to answer. 

She lets the silence linger for another moment before answering. “Kamaria.”

The king scoffs. “Of course. Well, at least there will be no mistaking that she’s Navarian.” He waves a lazy, ring-laden hand. “You’re dismissed.”

Kamaria has never been so glad to leave a room, though she’s furious that her hope to be sent back right away has been dashed. Part of her wants to run back and argue some more, to show the king just how bad of an idea this really is, but even if she had the courage, Roderick isn’t giving her that choice. He doesn’t let go of her arm until they’re back in the bedroom that’s been designated as hers. 

Unfortunately, he’s just as angry as she is at how that meeting went. She’s gotten glimpses of what this new life under his control is going to be like throughout the day, but it’s that evening that she’s fully shown just what to expect from his training.

[aseasonwithclarasblog]

Drunk and Drugged

15 weeks into Jack’s captivity

tw: drugs implied, alcohol mention, cigarettes’ mention, noncon- nothing explicit, minor drinking, minor taking drugs, light swearing, conditioning trauma, implied torture, bbu, hunger, starvation, boxboys, this short bit has a lot of implied stuff

Previous // ~ Jack Masterlist ~

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Jack found himself awake, listening to the sounds of Victoria coming back home at 2 am. He had to look out Lily’s bedroom when he heard her walk inside because she was giggling… like a physical laugh? It didn’t sound like her but it was her. He’d heard her laugh before, and of course, he’d heard her cursing like a sailor, but it wasn’t like this. She was never like this. She smelled like cigarettes, smoke, alcohol, and everything awful all wrapped up in one beautiful package. Beautiful of course because it was her- What h a p p e n e d? He shrunk back when a guy came in after her. “Sssh. Vicky~ be quiet.” He covered her mouth while laughing softly. She waved her arm around. “Ssss fine. No one’s ‘wake Tony.” She gave him a look before bursting into giggles. Victoria laughing was weird, her giggling was unheard of. “Still.” Tony smiled kindly at her. She drowsily directed him to her room. Jack frowned heavily. She looked high as hell and he knew her policy. She didn’t want to sleep with anyone. She said it all the time. And this guy, “Tony,” was grinning too much for him to just be helping her get back home safely. Not your problem- Jack. But what if she needs help… He held his head, shaking a little as fear crept into his bones. “Nonono.” He whimpered before running to Lily’s room. Sitting down on his ‘bed’ and hugging his knees. Rocking back and forth while listening. The door to Victoria’s room closed. It sounded like furniture was slowly and quietly being moved. Tell her father… You wanna talk to him again? Do you want to be with him again? No. Anything but that- Good boys DON’T say no. At the end of the inward torment of yes and no, he found himself walking to Al’s room. Not realizing it until he was in front of their door. He froze like a deer in headlights. When did I get here… Before he could think anything else his hand was already knocking on the door. Al answered with a near growl. “What-?” Jack swallowed while taking a breath. “I… I’m s-sorry Sir. I-I j-just… just wanted to um… tell you, t-tell yu-you-” “Tell. Me. What.” His eyes seemed to glow with anger, though when Jack blinked they were perfectly normal. He took his best option, avoiding eye contact at all, staring at the ground instead. “S-Sir V-Vic… Victoria… a-and a guy…” He whimpered. “I-In her ro-room… I-I’m so sorry.” He whispered an apology. He stared at him for a beat before knowing he wasn’t lying. After all, Jack was a horrible liar. When his words really took effect Al’s face twisted in fury. Jack quietly crept back to Lily’s room as Al went off. Listening to the boy screaming a minute later. He closed his eyes while curling up against the wall and holding his legs. It took hours to fall asleep, and when he woke he was terrified to go out of the room. Lily was already gone to school and after a while, he knew he couldn’t keep hiding forever. He crept out of the room, being silent as he snuck off to the kitchen, hoping he could get some food. He noticed most of the others staring at him, not only the maids and such but the pets as well. He lightly waved at Annie and Kendall. When he saw a plate of untouched food on the table it sent a short spark of fear through him. “Uhm… M-Maka? D-did on-one of them, uh, f-forget breakf-” Maka glanced over. “Na. I think it’s for you. Masters said.” “F-for me?” He blinked at him slowly. “You sure?” “Well, Sir said so.” He shrugged while putting the other dirty dishes in the dishwasher. Trap. It has to be a trap. But Jack didn’t know where the trap began or ended, and his stomach told him to stop caring and to- Just eat… please? So with shaky, gingerly hands he slowly took the plate before sitting on the ground and quietly eating. He had noticed the silverware but he wasn’t allowed it, and maybe that’s where the trap would close in on him? He didn’t dare touch them. When he was done he gave the plate to Maka who cleaned it up, giving a shy smile to the older boxboy. Maybe he had done the right thing after all?

~~~~~~~~~~

Written on September 10th, 2021

Next // ~ Jack Masterlist ~

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

May 10th

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1. Hello! I have an ITMF request when you have the time. I was recently thinking about the fic, "Heaven Has No Rage" by flipfloppandas and I particularly like how it developed the relationship between WWX and YZY. Do you/the community know of any other fics where she is able to reconcile her role as his mother by going through something difficult with him? Thank you! @balleyboley

some things go forward by everythingispoetry (T, 73k, WangXian, Modern AU, Hospitals, Teenage Drama, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Happy Ending)

🔒❤️ the thing with feathers by RoseThorne  (G, 43k,wangxian, Transmigration, Time Travel Fix-It, Illnesses, Family, Scars, Memory Loss, Angst, Fear, Recovery, Sharing a Bed, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Good Parent YZY, Referenced Sexual Slavery, Blood and Gore, Sexual Tension, Arranged Marriage, Grief, Adoption, POV Third Person, POV Alternating, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Good Parent LQR, Clairvoyance, Butterfly Effect)

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2. for the next itmf: are there any fics where wangxian just enlope and leave everyone behind to deal with it? where there are actual, something that makes the characters actually feel the, im not sure if this is the right word, consequences of an enlopement? or that wangxian just gave up making other people accept their love and just do what they want? like they don't care that they don't have approval.

i have seem many fics where they say that they want to get married expecting the disapproval of everyone, and magically no one has anything against it or at least not the characters that matter, or the ones that are against it are won over. the enlopement are usually used as a last resource not actually needed

thinking about everyone's book canon characterization, does anyone know a fic that resembles what anything about what im talking about?

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3. Howdy! Wondering if you had any pirate or siren au would love any especially longer completed works thank you mods!!!!

luminous by azuresummer (E, 50k, WangXian, WIP, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Dom/sub Undertones, Dominant LWJ, Submissive WWX, Modern, Merpeople, A/B/O, Dark LXC, Dark LWJ, Possessive LWJ, Protective LWJ, Crime Boss LWJ, Omega WWX, Siren WWX, Merperson WWX, Hurt WWX, WWX Whump, Precious WWX, Spoiled WWX, WWX Has a Fear of Dogs, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Nesting, Scenting, Power Imbalance, Obsession, Kidnapping, Organized Crime, Mild Gore, Minor Character Death, Excessive Amounts of Tenderness, Pining LWJ, Dark WangXian)

The Ocean Between Us by catbrainedschemes (M, 41k, WangXian, Modern AU, Historical, Reincarnation, Inspired by K-Drama | Korean Drama, legend of the blue sea, Fairy Tale, Fluff, Pining, Eventual Smut, Happy Ending, Childhood Sweethearts, Siren!wwx, Human!LWJ, Romantic Comedy, star-crossed lovers, Past LWJ/others (brief mentions), Slow Burn, Angst, Finding each other again)

💖 oceans, drowned in starfire by stiltonbasket (T, 30k, wangxian, LXC/NMJ, modern, novelist LWJ, merman WWX, accidental baby acquisation, family secrets, domestic fluff, happy ending)

melt away (in your arms) by saccharinings (M, 32k, WangXian, Siren WWX, Prince LWJ, Fluff, Inspired by Legend of the Blue Sea (TV), The Little Mermaid Fusion, Mermaid WWX, Angst with a Happy Ending, Amnesia, with a twist ;), Hopeful Ending)

In Whispers, In Songs, In Silence by JessicaMDawn (T, 20k, WangXian, LXC & LWJ, LSZ & LWJ, Sirens, Siren WWX, Canon Divergence, Blood and Violence, Implied/Referenced Torture, Canonical Character Death, but not as many as canon, Sign Language, WWX is a Good Guy, Creature Fic, Перевод на русский | Translation in Russian)

🔒 He's a Pirate by GrimmShadows (T, 23k, WangXian, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death, Pirate AU, Siren WWX, King WWX, Canon-Typical Violence, Captain LWJ, Angst with a Happy Ending)

🔒 Secrets of Yunmeng's Lotus Lakes by Cy_an_Blue (M, 73k, WangXian, one-sided SS/WWX, A/B/O, Omega WWX, Mermaid WWX, Cultivator LWJ, Younger WWX, Younger LWJ, teenage WWX, teenage LWJ, No War AU, Non-Traditional A/B/O Dynamics, Falling In Love, Getting Together, Interspecies Romance, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Awkwardness, Injury Recovery, Injury, Blood and Injury, accidental injury, Accidental Stabbing, Cultivation Accidents, Near Death, Near Death Experiences, waterborne abyss, Kidnapping, Non-Explicit Torture, Mentions of major injury, People are evil, people are greedy bastards, Fluff, Attempted Sexual Assault, SS being ick, Courtship, Courting Rituals)

The Treasure of Maroon Bay by fenaly (M, 30k, WangXian, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Pirates, Fantasy, Romance, pirate captain LWJ, merman WWX, first encounters, minor character death in the subplot, mentions of magical things)

Still Waters by WiseDawn13 (E, 21k, WangXian, Modern, Merpeople, POV WWX, Human WWX, Merman LWJ, Light Angst, wangxian's parents are alive and well, speedrun, WWX is Loved, Chaotic Bisexual WWX, LWJ is a Confident Gay, Happy Ending, Art Embedded, Hand Jobs, Oral Sex, what you doing out here with all this cock? double dicked up on a thursday afternoon, merji has two dicks, Double Penetration in One Hole, Anal Sex, wangxian are horny and in love, Getting Together, Marriage Proposal, Implied Switch WangXian)

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4. Do you know a fic where with we have a lot of friendship moment between Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang and where Huaisang is a protective friend (and a Wangxian shipper)?

Story-Shaped by lingering_song (T, 13k, NHS & WWX, wangxian, Post-Canon, Chief Cultivator LWJ, Inventor WWX, Found Family, NHS needs a new hobby, And apparently that’s spoiling his Wei-Xiong, Mentioned Character Death, Alcohol, Protective NHS, WangXian Endgame, Not JC Friendly, Not particularly gentry sects friendly overall tbh)

A Future Family In A Broken Past by Hauntcats (T, 121k, wangxian, WWX & Wen Remnants, Jiang Family & WWX, WQ/MM, JYL/NHS, LXC/NMJ, Not Jiāng Family Friendly, Not Cultivation World Friendly, WWX Needs a Hug, Family Dynamics, What is a good family?, Fear of emotions does not excuse abuse, Not Jiang Clan Friendly, Angst with a Happy Ending, Time Travel fix-it, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon Divergence, LXC needs a hug, Everyone Needs A Hug, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Not YZY Friendly)

Hold on to the reason that you stayed series by tawaen (M, 63k, WN & WQ, WN & MXY, WN & WWX & WQ, WangXian, Ghost General WN, Ghost WQ, Eventual WAngXian, Canon Divergence, WQ comes back to haunt the cultivation world, Bad idea to kill the one person who didn't kill anyone, Cultivation World Critical, Not JC Friendly, Wen Remnants Deserve Better, Sīsī Deserves Better, MXY Deserves Better, POV WQ, Discussion of Golden Core Reveal, Anti-reconciliation, Outsider POV on Jiāng dynamics, POV NHS, Martial God WWX)

I Have Arranged to Tie You to Me by xxxMiaHikarixxx (G, 51k, WIP, WangXian, Lan protective team, Time Travel, Past, LWJ oriented, Arranged Marriage, Boys In Love, Soulmates, Fix-It, Jiang siblings, not jiang parents friendly, Soft LWJ, Protective LWJ, Genius WWX)

🔒 like mayflies wandering series by RoseThorne (E, 21k, NHS & WWX, WangXian, Assassination Attempt(s), Introspection, Regret, Travel, Post-Canon, POV Third Person, POV WWX, Ghosts, Reconciliation, Exhaustion, Pining, Pre-WangXian, Pining, Feelings Realization, Illnesses, ennui, Found Family, Porn Reading, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Manipulative NHS, Memories, WWX Needs a Hug, Post-Canon, Pining WWX, Friendship, NHS is a Little Shit, Qi Deviation, Resentful Energy, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Triggers, Fainting, Anal Sex, Getting Together, Love) ConfessionsGrief/Mourning

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5. Do you know stories where Wei Wuxian's parents are not dead but send into the future so they arrive after the events of the canon and try to find their son?

The Return of Cangse Sanren by milesofheart (T, 52k, WIP, WangXian, CSR/WCZ, Canon Divergence, CSR & WCZ Live, Angst with a happy ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Burial Mounds days, BAMF CSR)

An Inch of Grass, and All The Sunshine of Spring by ChilianXianzi (T, 1k, WIP, wangxian, CSSR/WCZ, CSSR & LWJ & WCZ, canon divergence, time travel, grief/mourning, parent-child relationship, found family, fluff & angst)

The Long Winding Road Homeby Admiranda (T, 13k, CSSR/WCZ, wangxian, flash forwards, Time Travel, Post canon, WWX’s parents come to post canon mdzs, not for JC fans, fluffy family reunions, mocking LQR to his face, mocking JC to his face, wild rumors abound)

Wei Changze's weird day by Weiyingbestboy (Not Rated, 1k, WangXian, Time Travel, Canon Divergence, WangXian babies) this is actually the opposite if you're interested! WWX + juniors appear in the past and freak Wei Changze the fuck out

The lark and the willow by Mhalachai (G, WangXian, CSSR/WCZ, Time Travel, Angst with a Happy Ending, Chief Cultivator LWJ, More parental issues than you can shake a stick at, make time travel have consequences you cowards, yunmeng bros reconciliation)

Love you always, in any form you come in by YumichanHamano (G, 7k, WangXian, CSSR/WCZ, Time Travel, Fluff, happy birthday wei wuxian!, he can have his parents back as a treat :) )

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6. I would like to find a fic where Jin Ling learns more about his parents death because the boy didn't have had a accurate version in his life and he want to know the truth.

🧡 Vow by draechaeli (E, 216k, Canon Divergence, BeliefGod!WWX, Adoption but WWX birthed them all, Pregnancy Kink, Mpreg, minor male lactation, Consensual Non-Consent, Light Bondage, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con because JGS, Mentions Canon Typical Incest, Canon Typical Violence) Chapter 8 of Vow has Wei Wuxian's spirit tell Jin Ling the truth about how his parents died.

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7. Hey! Have you ever read a book which is reacting to the book or series but it has covered the part where the golden core reveal is done? All the other books in this type are WIPs even before covering half of the book and never reaching that part T^T

💖 The Path by Seastar98 (Not rated, 279k, wangxian, JC/WQ, JYL/JZX, watching the series, Fix-It of Sorts, Canon Divergence, Golden Core Reveal, CQL Verse, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF NHS, check chapters for specific warnings)

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8. Hi! Itmf LXC takes care of WWX, not just in a sick fic sense, but also as a good gege, supportive brother that doesn’t have anger issues, caring brother in law looking out for his chaotic didi @vi-sky

🧡 Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 803k, WangXian, WIP, Fix-it of sorts, Talisman master WWX, Not JFM Friendly, Study Arc, Getting together, Fluff and Angst, Engagement) long af, LXC is pretty supportive in this

💖🔒 Hoards and treasuresby  apathyinreverie (T, 21k, WangXian, Siblings, Family, not particularly Jiang friendly, YZY Bashing, slightly darker Gusu Lans, LXC being the   best brother, Some manipulation, But with the best of intentions, and   not between wangxian, Dragon LWJ, Fox WWX, Smitten LWJ, Fluff, perfect happiness, adorable WWX, Romance, Some worldbuilding, courting) supportive in a slightly dark way but still supportive

how a smiling homeless child melted jade hearts and got a home by anxiouswreck0_0 (T, 41k, wangxian, canon divergence, lan WWX, childhood friends to fiances, fluff & angst, fix-it of sorts, character death, possessive LWJ, dark LXC) WWX grows up in the Lan sect, mother hen LXC

🔒 Unstoppable by Netrixie (T, 149k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Eventual Happy Ending, Unreliable Narrator, Slow Burn, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Wolf-shifter WWX, Resolved Sexual Tension, Resolved Romantic Tension, Fix-It, Werewolf, Shapeshifters) love the brother/brother-in-law relationship in this series - in another part, WWX is the protective brother for LXC

A Fortuitous Bad Encounter by VividestList (E, 26k, WangXian, LXC & WWX, A/B/O, Omega WWX, Alpha LWJ, mild dubcon mentioned, in that WWX thinks that he used his heat to get LWJ to have sex with him, but we all know that’s a lie and he just can’t take a hint, LWJ was drunk tho, but that dubcon was also canon, mentions of mpreg, Mpreg, Misunderstandings, Mating Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Kid Fic, Dirty Talk, Possessive Sex, possessive LWJ, Riding, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Hair Pulling, Breeding Kink) LXC supports WWX when he gets pregnant and keeps the secret for him

there are pieces of you, of us by MusicPlotter (T, 4k, WangXian, LXC & LWJ, LXC & WWX, Canonical Character Death, Minor Canon Divergence, They don't get eloped, That's it, Angst, Fluff, LXC Is A Good Brother, WWX Deserves The World) LXC looks at chaotic WWX and says "that's a free didi"

I Made My Choice and It Was You by merakily (G, 10k, WangXian, LXC& WWX, Fluff and Angst, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Baggage, PTSD, Nightmares, In-Laws, Post-Canon, Family Bonding) post canon bonding

I'll Protect That Pretty Smile by legendlanzhan (T, 16k, WangXian, LXC & WWX, LQR & WWX, WIP, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Fluff, Some angst, Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, No Sunshot Campaign, Good Uncle LQR, Good Sibling LXC, WWX is a lan, LQR finds WWX a week after his parents die and brings him to the cloud recesses, LQR is trying his best actually, LXC is the best big brother, every single lan loves WWX bc that's what he deserves, WWX and LWJ get to make lots of friends! not even JZX is off the table!, head disciples WWX and LWJ) incomplete, but LQR finds WWX before JFM, good older brother LXC

Nursery Rhymes by manaika (M, 96k, WangXian, NieLan, Modern AU, Inexperienced WWX, Experienced LWJ, Reconciliation, Budding Love, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Unreliable Narrator, Medical Inaccuracies, Slow Burn, Past Character Death, Childhood Trauma, Found Family, Past Injury, Nurse! WWX, Doctor! LXC, Teacher! LWJ, Character With A Heart Condition (Major), Past Incarceration (Major Character), Underage Character With Leukemia (Minor)) wonderful friendship/found family relationship btwn WWX and LXC

Please Let Me Take Care of You by incidentallyWangxian (G, 9k, WangXian, LXC & LWJ, LXC & WWX, Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, Sexual Assault, ish, kinda assault, drugged WWX, big brother LXC, Nightmares, the horrifying ordeal of being known, Modern, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Hurt WWX, crying WWX) WWX gets roofied, LXC comes to pick him up

🔒 Calling out for justice by marhikit (Not Rated, 10k, WangXian, LXC & WWX, LQR & WWX, JC & WWX & JYL, QHJ & WWX, WIP, Not JC Friendly, Not Jiang Family Friendly, canon JC characteristic) LXC uncovers scars/abuse WWX has suffered

O Moon, My Midnight Lover by stiltonbasket (G, 2k, WangXian, LXC & WWX, married wangxian, Introspection, Character Study, best bro-in-law LXC, Parenthood, Mild Angst, just a smidge yknow, Happy Ending, wangxian have babies, they are the cutest things) LXC and WWX bond while waiting for LWJ to come back from a night hunt

🔒 the thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break by RoseThorne (E, 91k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Soulmates, Self-Esteem Issues, Fix-It, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, PTSD, Handfasting, Panic Attacks, Getting Together, First Time, Aftercare, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Torture, Scars, Chronic Pain, Golden Core Reveal, First Time, Switching, sex-related injury, LWJ Stays at the Burial Mounds, LSZ is a Wèi, Good Sibling JC, Dissociation, Burial Mounds Settlement Days)

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9. I'm in a mood for a fic where a modern LWJ somehow ends up in the past, where he meets WWX (preferably if the modern day is no cultivation while the past does have cultivation, though that isn't a requirement.)

~*~

10. hiiii itmf fics where wwx is very affectionate but lwj reacts rudely then misses it and grovels when wwx stops and/or starts hanging out with someone else. arranged marriage would be a nice plus! @nalalie

the river and the sea by sasamelons (T, 7k, WangXian, Soulmates, Arranged Marriage, Misunderstandings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Falling In Love, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Mutual Pining)

much sweeter than by mellowflicker (T, 3k, WangXian, Royaltyish, Arranged Marriage, a little bit of, YLLZ WWX, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending)

True Gold Fears No Fire by defractum (nyargles) (M, 69k, WIP, WangXian,  Royalty AU, Ancient China, Wuxia, Historical Inaccuracy, Arranged Marriage, Identity Porn, Mutual Pining, Emperor!LWJ, empress!wwx, Eventual Happy Ending, Misunderstandings)

~*~

11. hi! itmf fic where lwj becomes a member of the jiang, either before or after wwx’s return; i’ve read Delight in Misery by njreseki but i’m interested in other takes on the idea!

The Price of Freedom by meyari (T, 32k, WangXian, JC/LWJ, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death, Past Character Death, Grief/Mourning, PTSD, Post-War, Children In Danger, Past Rape/Non-con, Warning: Jin Guangshan, Physical Abuse, Chronic Pain, Canon-Typical Violence, seriously a lot of grief and loss, no resurrections (yet), Not LQR Friendly, Execution, excessive discipline, Platonic Relationships) note that the LWJ/JC tagged is actually platonic, this is JC POV, and there is significant Lan Sect-bashing

this blood in my mouth by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 3k, WangXian, LSZ & WWX & LWJ, Post-Canon, POV LXC)

~*~

12. hi, thank you so much for this! i’ve wanted something just like this in other fandoms but never actually found one before! i’m in the mood for time travel fic, but with one of jiang cheng or wen qing as the time traveler, and with chengqing as one of the endgame ships alongside wangxian. thank you again!!!

For Both Of Us (And Time Is But A Paper Moon) by sami (E, 65k, wangxian, JC & WWX; JC & LWJ, LWJ & LXC, Canonical Character Death, Mentions of Rape, not explicit but definitely referenced, Time Travel, Not Everyone Dies au, Canon-Typical Violence, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, WWX/babie tendencies, WQ is a queen in any reality, Healing, Yunmeng Shuangjie, Canon Divergence, Asexual JC, First Time, Getting Together, BAMF JC, BAMF LWJ, WWX finds new ways to be oblivious, seriously it surprised even us)

Lynchpin by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 103k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Time Travel, Fix-It)

The Stranger Inside My Son by Mademoiselle_A (T, 65k, JC & YZY, JC & JFM, JC & WWX, JC & JL, JC & JYL, WangXian, JC & JGY, WIP, Time Travel Fix-It, But from an outsider's POV, JC is So Done, JFM's A+ parenting, YZY's A+ Parenting, Both are not great but this is not a bashing fic, JC-centric, But from JFM's POV lol, POV Outsider)

💖 With Surgical Precision by metisket (T, 20k, WQ & WN, WQ & WWX, WangXian, Time Travel, Families of Choice, sibling bonding through murder)

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13. Itmf wangxian fics with wen ning? He feels such a background character in many fics, I want some wwx and wn together!! Their dynamic is so cute like, wy: " you there wen ning? " wn: " for you young master? Always"

Ps: I'm not asking them in a romantic sense

Pps: no moder fics please

break by justdoityoufucker (T, 3k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, LXC Critical, JC Critical, Canonical Character Death, Guānyīn Temple Scene, BAMF WN, Protective WN)

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14. Are there fics with actually head disciple wwx in action? Like not just mentioning but actually doing??

🔒 The Water's Right, It's Sinking In by GravityWinsAgain (T, 9k, WangXian, Fluff and Angst, but the angst is all in lwj's head, seriously nothing outside of his own internalized panic is happening, LWJ visits lotus pier, And has a breakdown about it, Canon Divergence, No Sunshot Campaign, da-shixiong wwx, Repressed lwj, But they figure it out in the end, Happy Ending, lwj has emotions and is not pleased, Location: Lotus Pier)

~*~

15. Please find fics where wwx is a very influential person across the cultivation world, not post canon, but when everyone (EVRYONE) is alive . Thankyou.

Become Tomorrow by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 39k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, WWX is BSSR’s disciple)

Debts of a Child series by Hauntcats (M, 115k, WangXian, dark, YZY Bashing, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Angst and Feels, lots of anger, JC Bashing, not Jiang friendly, Angst with a Happy Ending, Content warning for icky spiders in later chapters.)

Field Trips with Wei Wuxian by antebunny (G, 42k, WangXian, WQ & WWX, NMJ & WWX, JZX & WWX, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Found Family, Angst with a Happy Ending, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, protective Jiang siblings, Unreliable Narrator, due to WWX assuming ppl hate him, JYL is gonna dropkick her baby bro into having friends)

Dispersing Clouds by dreamingofcake (E, 166k, WangXian, WIP, Canon Divergence, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Abusive YZY, Canonical Child Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Eventual Sex, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm (Background Character), Background Character Deaths, child deaths, Canon JC, Good Uncle LQR, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Cultivation Sect Politics, Homophobia, Heteronormativity, Feelings Realization, WWX is Not Oblivious)

~*~

16. Hii! There was this itmf post where someone asked for inventor wwx! Can you please find the post? I've scrolled down for like 5 times already but I can't find it , please help

Lay my body down by tawaen (M, 48k, WWX & WQ, WWX & WN, WangXian, WWX & JYL, Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Eventual WangXian, No Golden Core Transfer, Not Cultivation World Friendly, Canon-Typical Violence, Not JC Friendly, Tagged just in case because there is no redemption arc here, What if WWX saw the first siege of the burial mounds and said Nope to the war, Original Character(s), OC point-of-view for one chapter for plot reasons)

In My Defence, I Have None (For Never Leaving Well Enough Alone) by SemiLocalCryptid (T, 73k, WangXian, WIP, Time Travel Fix-It, Established Relationship, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, POV NHS, but only for the first chapter, POV Alternating, between Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi for the rest, WWX may have no sense of self preservation but he does have a husband, No one touches LWJ’s husband, NHS has no more fucks to give and will save his brother just watch him, WN is very confused about needing to breathe again, but is ultimately happy about it, BAMF WN, WN needs a hug, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, WQ is a queen and everyone should fear her, Fluff, Inventor WWX, Gratuitous amounts of Wangxian fluff)

🧡 One Can Keep A Secret (If He Does Not Know It’s There) by H_Belle (T, 5k, WangXian, Modern Cultivators, Inventor WWX, Secret Identity, Identity Reveal, YLLZ WWX, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Pining LWJ, POV WWX, Background Wangxian Getting Together, Jiangs are only mentioned in the passing, inspired by a tumblr post)

🧡🔒Truth Will Out (when caught on video) - End_OTW_Racism! by KizuKatana (E, 178k, WangXian, WN & WWX & WQ, graphic depictions of violence, modern cultivation, canon divergence, YZY abuses WWX , caught on camera, partial core removal, WWX kicked out of Jiang sect, livestreamer WWX, meet ugly, dual cultivation, smut, no war)

There's An App For Everything by Sweetlittlevampire (G, 4k, WangXian, Modern Cultivation, Rivals to Lovers, Friends To Lovers, Competition, Demon fighting, Getting Together, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Night Hunts, Wangxian x Caves is the real ship here, Happy Ending, puns, Humour)

~*~

17. Hi! 🤗

This is for the ITMF. Lately I've been looking for some good time travel fix it fics.

A) WWX, LWJ or both traveling together to the past.

B) The juniors travel to the past and fix everything. (WWX protecting squad would be awesome!).

Long fics would be appreciated. Happy Endings, please.

Thanks for everything! 🥰💕 @wangxiansgirl

17A)

A Matter of Time series by mrcformoso (E, 70 k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, POV LWJ, POV JC, Dark LWJ, Manipulation, Grooming, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Consensual Underage Sex, Except problematic please read warning in first chapter, Blood and Violence, Insane LWJ, Manic LWJ, Conditioning, WWX is a Lán, Minor Character Death, Confused JC, Golden Core Reveal, Good Friend NHS, WWX Isn’t Adopted by the Jiāngs, Abusive Jiāng Family, Jiāng Family Bashing, Jiāng Family Critical, POV NHS, Dark NHS, Anal Sex, Marathon Sex, Dual Cultivation, Qīnghéng-jūn Lives, LWJ Has a Big Dick, WWX Self-Lubricates, Plot Twists, Porn With Plot, Scheming NHS, Manipulative NHS, BAMF LWJ, BAMF WWX) Dark!LWJ travels into the past

A Narrow Bridge by FrameofMind, Jo Lasalle (Jo_Lasalle) (E, 700k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, Slow Burn, Getting Together, First Time, Pining while fucking, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Angst with a Happy Ending, CQL Verse, almost everybody lives/almost nobody dies, epistolary-ish, canon-ish side pairings, radishes) Is 700,193 words long enough? ;)

Ad Oblivione by Baph, HikariNoHimeWriter (M, 70k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, POV Multiple, Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Identity Reveal, Golden Core Reveal, Cultivation World Critical, Not JC Friendly, Abusive YZY, Angst with a Happy Ending)

Regrets by antebunny (G, 38k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Time Travel, Fix-It, Temporary Character Death, Explicit Descriptions of Love, and other squishy feelings, Angst with a Happy Ending) Both WWX & LWJ time travel in this one

Here With Me ‘verse Series by iamwish (T/G, 80k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, wwx turns this into a no war!au, Canon-Typical Violence, Period-Typical Homophobia, Bad Parent YZY, POV WWX, POV LWJ, POV JC, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, WWX Has PTSD, and also depression sometimes, Unreliable Narrator, Character Death, Blood and Gore, BAMF WWX, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, there’s some elements of, Grief/Mourning, Character Study, POV JYL, Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death)

Family by Quiet_crash (G, 57k, WangXian, JC & WWX & JYL, LXC & WWX, JYL & LWJ, Time Travel Fix-It, Grief/Mourning, Loss of Parent(s), Established Relationship)

The Wild Geese’s Tomb by The Feels Whale (miscellea) (T, 66k, WangXian, Time Travel AU, fixit, Temporary Character Death, all women live no women die, LWJ’s canonically intense feelings about everything all the time, WWX’s clinical depression gets treated and blamed on resentful energy, navigating gay marriage in ancient china by utiliizing class snobbery for your own ends, if you’re not sure whose fault anything going on in here is then blaming NHS is probably a good bet, WWX plays ‘summon LWJ’ it’s super effective!, the ‘unexploded cow’ approach to dealing with your enemies)

Time and Time Again by Jammingjackelopes (M, 115k, WangXian, WIP, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Husbands, Established Relationship, Temporary Character Death, BAMF LWJ, Consensual Kink, Domestic Fluff)

17B)

Time, Time, Time by skeletonofaplant (G, 44k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, LSZ & WWX, JYL & JL & JZX, LJY & LSZ, Time Travel Fix-It, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, Angst, Fluff, Junior Quartet Dynamics, Time Travelling Junior Ensemble, Junior Ensemble Shenanigans, Humor)

❤️ Tragedy is Not the End by Hobbsy3 (T, 358k, wangxian, Time Travel, Torture, Hurt/Comfort, Golden Core Reveal, Canon Divergence from Qiongqi Pass, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Yunmeng sibling bonding, good dad wwx, good dad lwj, JZX Lives, JYL Lives, Junior Quartet Dynamics)

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

[steviewashere]

In it For the Long Haul (And Then Some)

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Minor Internalized Ableism Tags: Post Canon, Post Season Four, Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hospitals, Hospitalization, Medical Conditions, Steve Harrington Has Head Trauma (Brief Mention), Amputee Steve Harrington, Amputee Eddie Munson, Disabled Steve Harrington, Disabled Eddie Munson, Whump, Implied/Referenced Depression, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve's Injuries Actually Have an Effect On Him, Eddie Munson Calls Steve Harrington Pet Names, Medical Accuracies (Surprising, I Know), Tattoos, Implied/Referenced Sex, Getting Together

Guys, oh my god, my Apple keyboard has prosthetic emojis?! That's so cool.

🦾🦿—————🦾🦿 He thought it’d be another concussion that would put him out this time. It’s practically the stamp of approval left on his body by the Upside Down. Should be bright green and sticky on his forehead and in big bold letters for everybody to read. But it isn’t a concussion. And he’s not sure what to do with himself.

Maybe they should’ve taken him to the hospital to get medical treatment after the bat bites. It wasn’t just on his back and arms and stomach. The marks were on his legs, too. Even though he had tried to kick the demobats off, they still sunk their teeth in when they had the chance, albeit briefly. Considering, too, he also walked through that hellhole without shoes on. He should’ve seen a doctor. First thing, he should’ve seen a doctor. But he didn’t. And he had the infection to show for it. Except, his body hadn’t healed the way it was supposed to. His immune system didn’t cooperate. It didn’t keep up.

The infection spread through the muscle of his left foot. And when it didn’t go away fast enough, it worked its way through his toes, shot up his ankle, and into his calf. Right below the knee.

His pinkie and ring toes went first. They—and he wishes he could spare the gruesome details—turned purple and swollen and numb. That’s when he knew things would be different. As soon as those parts were gone, he had begun to turn his face away from the window of hope. Instead, he looked out at the deep ocean waves of regret and grief, and imagined himself as a sinking ship. Filling with water. Plummeting to the bottom. Rotting.

Robin and the kids would all come around. Flood into his room. Talk to him while he was delirious from anesthesia first, then morphine next. Spoke to him when he hissed through phantom pains. Looked away when he had to be wheeled into the all too spacious hospital bathroom. “Tug the red chord if you get stuck,” he recalls a nurse saying. “Don’t put pressure on this foot, it’s still draining,” another had said. And by the time he could stay out of the wheelchair, he forgot what it was like to pee without the reminders, what it was like to go to the bathroom and be able to stand on his own.

Because of his luck, though, he lost the whole foot next. The infection had worked its way into his tibia. Didn’t fall asleep willingly after he was taken off of medication. Just sat in his cramped hospital bed, staring down at the stump of where part of him once was, and wept. Hands curled over his thighs, nails digging into his flesh, lips tight against his teeth, unblinking and weeping softly into the silence of his room. The first night without morphine and without the foot, he sat in the dark. In the black ink of his room. Choking on himself. Uncaring towards his limp and greasy hair dangling in front of his eyes. And he didn’t sleep. Didn’t want to. Couldn’t take the glare off his absent foot.

He stopped flexing the other foot, stopped running it against his left leg when he did try to sleep, stopped wanting to use it all together.

It wasn’t until the calf was removed completely, leaving him with half a leg and just his knee, did he stop talking. He just sat in the bustling white noise silence of his room. Wide eyes that were dry and red and bloodshot staring down at the thin cloth blanket draped over himself. An even thinner hospital gown stuck to his sallow skin. Stomach rumbling with hunger, but he couldn’t eat in the presence of himself. He just sat and thought of blankness, of absence, and of loss.

He’s been in the hospital nearly a month—endless surgeries and endless bouts of infections—when Eddie finally visits. Steve barely glances at him. Notices his silhouette and odd gait and the hiding of his right arm, but nothing more. Goes back to his lap with a raw emptiness, gaping and pulsing the more and more he sits in this room. Still recovering. Not even at the point of physical therapy yet. Still trying to heal his, how he views it, now useless body.

Eddie sits down in the chair to his left. Grunting with the exertion. He releases a measured, deep breath. “I heard from Robin that you were up here,” he states conversationally. “Thought I’d come up and see you now that I’m not stuck in my own room.”

Steve doesn’t say anything. Just traces his thumbs over the hem of his blanket. He thought he’d be angrier at the mention of Eddie being discharged. Filled to the brim with bitter jealousy. But all that tinges in his chest is a beastly want. An ache. The sizzle of something dwindling out.

“Haven’t had the chance to thank you, Steve,” Eddie murmurs. “I thought I’d die down there. Figured it was the best option, y’know, considering my circumstances? But then you and Dustin did the whole tourniquet thing and risked your lives and welcomed me in like a friend. So, my mind’s been changed. Hate this town and how it hates me, but I’m glad to still be here with some of the best people I’ve met,” he says sincerely. “But—I, uh—I wanted to come keep you company, as a friend. Show you something, too.”

At that, Steve raises his eyes slightly. Enough to catch on where Eddie’s knees are pressed firmly against the side of his bed. Angled oddly to stretch out and wiggle his right arm in sight of Steve’s vision. That’s when his eyes catch on the limp sleeve of the flannel he’s wearing. How it just flattens to the bed, red and black, lifeless.

The sleeve rolls up to reveal the stump of Eddie’s arm. His hand, wrist, and half of his forearm completely gone.

“We match,” Eddie says. And it should be grim. It should be a devastating statement to make. But something in Steve starts to warm. A desperation sort of growth, one that comes from the want and need to be seen. Eddie continues, “And—Look, I know it’s not ideal. It really isn’t. If anything, this is like majorly fucked up for the both of us. But…We’ll figure it out, you know? Get prosthetics. Cut up our clothes to accommodate our limbs, or well, lack of. But you aren’t alone; that’s my point.”

Hesitantly, Steve raises his head. Finally looking at Eddie in his entirety. The palm sized scar on his cheek, pink and shiny and stark against his face. The ring around his neck and the other red raw scars that creep into the collar of his t-shirt. And his hair. It’s gone. Shaved down. Replaced by a bit of fuzz and one long scar that goes from the widow’s peak of his hairline, to where it tapers at his neck. Steve doesn't remember Eddie getting injured there, but it must've been from when he fell through the portal—limp and loose.

He realizes, looking down at himself, that there are swirls of scars from the back of his own arms, deep white lines on his knuckles, the ring around his neck surely present, and that doesn’t even include the ones that ache on his back. He looks back to Eddie.

Eddie reaches out a slow hand, cupping his cheek, wiping at something. That’s when Steve realizes that he’s crying. “Hey, oh, I’m sorry,” he murmurs, “I’m sorry, Stevie. I didn’t think that—“

“You get it?” Steve squeak-rasps. His throat throbs. It's dry and brittle and painful all the way through him; down to his stomach, into his sweaty palms, at the base of his stump. Phantom stings that make him twitch. But his voice...It's nothing like him. It's haunting to hear himself. And for a moment, he wishes he didn't speak. Eddie, however, startles and softens all at once. Eyes glistening at Steve, worried and concerned and cautious, but also enamored and welcoming and empathetic.

Nodding, Eddie says, “Yeah, sweetheart, I do. I’m still getting used to it, too.” He pushes up into Steve’s messy hair, swiping it away from his forehead. Doesn’t even grimace at how gross it surely feels on his fingers. “You don’t have to sit alone about this. ‘Cause I’m right here with you. And…” His eyes grow immeasurably softer. “…I may not have both hands, but I’ve got both arms to hold you," he breathes.

It’s easy to lean into Eddie’s hand. To close his eyes and let himself feel this. Sobbing quietly, muffled behind his lips. Shoulders shaking with it. He blubbers, “I hate this, Eddie. I hate this, I hate this, I—“ And cuts himself off with a loud, unashamed, explosive sob.

“I know, sweetheart,” Eddie is saying as he wraps himself around Steve. Tucks himself in close, to where Steve is able to set his head on his shoulder. He sits on the edge of the bed so that he doesn’t overcrowd. And just holds on tight. “You feel how you need to feel, Steve. Get it out, it’s okay.”

Steve groans harshly in the back of his throat. Gasping in short breaths, chest rattling with the effort. He slams his forehead into Eddie’s chest, over and over. Muffling into the fabric of his shirt, “Nobody else gets it. They don’t understand. They don’t…All of them.” Eddie doesn’t speak. Afraid that Steve will stop if he does. “They think I’ll just bounce back, but everything is different now, Eds,” he cries, “Everything.”

And he finds that he does mean that. He knows he's too quiet. Knows he's behaving too serious for his bones. Too mature for his lungs. He's hollow to his core, and bleeding between his teeth. There's something deeply fractured in him now, even if he were to ever show a sliver of who he was before.

He allows himself to cry for a few minutes more before slumping with exhaustion, but he doesn’t close his eyes. Doesn’t let sleep pull him under. Just shakes and shivers and twitches in Eddie’s warm hold. Until, Eddie pulls back. Arms set firmly on Steve’s shoulders. Eyes wandering his face, his hair. “You look so tired, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “When’s the last time you’ve slept?” Steve shrugs in lieu of a response. Eddie's eyebrows twitch down, a frown wanting to form, but he worms it away. Offering with a well-crafted small smile, “How about you sleep and I keep watch for you?”

He shakes his head. “They’ll take more of me if I close my eyes. They keep doing it,” Steve mutters. His voice is weak and slightly petulant.

“What do you mean, Stevie?” And Eddie's face drops again. Frowning through the floor.

“They come in here and tell me the infection spread. Tell me about how it goes bone deep. Or how my limbs are turning purple. Or how something doesn’t look good,” Steve rambles on, “Then, they have to take me back for surgery. And I have to let them because I get it, I do, because my body isn’t healing right. And it's not something I'll just make up for at home, so I let them. I let them and then...I wake back up and more of my leg is gone. I can’t let them take more from me. I can’t lose more of myself. I can’t, Eddie, I can’t—I can’t—I can’t—“

Softly, Eddie shushes him. Rubbing his remaining hand up and down Steve’s arm in long stripes, carefully avoiding his still agitated scars. “Shhh, baby, you’re okay. It’s scary, I know. But they said that you’re doing better. Treatment is working, Steve. You won’t lose anything else, okay?” His eyes are wide and imploring. Deep brown, enriching, swallowing Steve whole. “You won’t. This is it. They just need you to rest. I’ll be right here while you do so; I won’t let them do anything to you that you wouldn’t want. But you need sleep. You’re wasting away on me.” His hands push firmer on Steve's shoulders. Imploring again, searching and hoping for Steve to understand. He reiterates, “You’re wasting away.”

“I’m not,” Steve weakly argues.

“You are,” Eddie whispers, “You look like you haven’t slept in days, Stevie. And the doctors already told me how you’ve been refusing to eat. That’s not good. You gotta rest and get healthy, to a place they need you to be, so that you can go home.” Steve doesn't like that idea. Back to his big, almost always empty house. Eddie must read that, somewhere, on his face. He gently splays his hand over Steve’s chest, shoving at it with light force. Promising low, "Home can be with Robin or Nancy or me, Stevie. But you have to get better first. You have to. Just lay down and talk to me, sweetheart."

Hesitantly, Steve lays down with Eddie’s push. Head lolled on the pillow so that his face is pointed towards where Eddie sits. He stretches out his hand and weakly grips to Eddie’s fingers. “I’m scared,” he finally confesses. The words falling heavy from the tip of his tongue.

And though Eddie knows, Steve can see it in his eyes, he asks anyway, “What’s got you spooked?”

Steve blinks groggily. Wrung out from the tears. From the sobbing. The speaking. From existing the way he has been. “Of not being myself,” he answers, muttering. “I can’t drive now. I can’t work out the way I used to. Can’t even stand to use the bathroom. I’m not losing more of my limbs, but it’s like I’m gone.”

Eddie’s thumb pushes firmly into the back of Steve’s hand. And he looks straight on at Steve’s tired, tired, tired eyes. “I ain’t letting you go,” he swears. “We’ll find what works. We’ll find you again, I promise. Especially now that we have all the time in the world.”

“It’s going to take so long, though. You don’t want to be stuck with me during that.”

Simply, Eddie shrugs. “So, what? I’ll be figuring out myself again, too. And from what I’ve heard, you’re the kind of guy to take no shit. If anything, you’re going to be the one stuck with me.” His voice grows lower and lower as Steve’s eyes dip to a near close. “Go ahead and sleep, Steve. It’s okay.”

With a long, grieving sigh, Steve closes his eyes completely. Mumbles, “You’re a good guy, Eddie.” Voice slow and sticky. “I’m glad you’re my friend.”

As Steve’s grumbling snores fill the room, Eddie stands to lightly open the curtains. Soft sunlight pooling through the room. It makes Steve glow in yellows, his hair shiny and his skin glistening. He’s worse for wear, that much is evident to Eddie. But he can work with that. He’ll accommodate all that Steve is willing to give. And he’ll keep an eye and an ear out, too. Even if that’s all he’s allowed to offer.

He sits back in his original chair. Stretching himself so that he can lean over Steve's bed. And swipes the stray hair away from his eyes. “I’m glad you’re my friend, too, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs into the white noise of the room. He stays until visiting hours are over.

And comes back every day until Steve gets to go home.

——— Their prosthetics don’t match perfectly to their skin (the prosthetic’s skin being a shade darker than what they’d usually have), but they make do with them. And they find a way to joke about it. To mingle with the still raw ache of what they’ve lost.

Steve ends up painting the nails of Eddie’s prosthetic hand to match his real fingernails, black and shiny. Eddie aids with changing out Steve’s sneakers so that they match his polos and sweaters. And they find it especially funny, when they get together and hook up for the first time, to be laying in a pile of limbs quite literally on Eddie’s bed—but to look off at his side table, their arm and leg are cradling each other. Just as they do. Holding one another on the worst days, through the phantom pains and the afternoons where they sob. It comes easily, being with one another.

It takes time, like all things do. Like watching paint dry on some days. Or waiting for water to boil on others. Prone to lash out, sure. Prone to stay stock still in bed with far away eyes. But they’re in it. They live it. And as time pushes, days grow to be normal. To be expected.

“We should draw tattoos on our limbs,” Eddie suggests one day.

“I can’t draw, Eds. But what do you have in mind?”

In it for the long haul, with a drawing of a hand, is put on Steve’s prosthetic calf.

And then some, with a leg wearing a Nike sneaker, goes on Eddie’s wrist.

“Can’t believe my first tattoo literally cost an arm and a leg,” Steve mutters later, admiring the work Eddie’s done. And all they can do afterwards is laugh until their stomachs hurt, air is impossible to catch, and their cheeks are wet with tears.

🦾🦿—————🦾🦿 When my mom was alive and, obviously, still used her prosthetic leg, she'd threaten to beat up my bullies by taking her leg off and whacking them with it. Also, her leg had a piece of see-through plastic on it where she could have something customized in it, it said "Kicking ass and taking names."

[swamiiyasssss]

Dragonfly In Red

Jason Todd + Vigilante!OfficeSiren!Reader

This Hood would never have thought he'd fell in love with a goddamn suit. Tall, dark and gorgeous, she was the wildest of his dreams. A dragonfly amongst the birds, the bats, standing out too much for his own liking.

The suit's got secrets; He intends to take it all for his own.

Dragonfly In Red by yasswami Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Batman - All Media Types, Batman (Comics), Batman: Arkham - All Media Types, Batman: Under the Red Hood (2010), DCU, DCU (Comics), Red Hood/Arsenal (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Batman: Arkham (Video Games) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con Relationships: Jason Todd/Reader, Jason Todd/Original Female Character(s), Jason Todd/Original Character(s), minor Luke Fox/Reader Characters: Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne, Titus | Damian Wayne's Dog, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Stephanie Brown, Joker (DCU), Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake, Lucius Fox, Luke Fox, Arkham Asylum Inmates, Arkham Asylum Staff (DCU), Riddler (Batman 1966), Jim Gordon Additional Tags: Slow To Update, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Episode: s01e09 Enemies and Lovers, Lazy Sex, Hate Sex, NSFW, Smut, Angst, Heavy Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Death, Canonical Character Death, Vigilantism, Vigilante Reader, Blood and Violence, Psychological Horror, Psychological Torture, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Blood and Injury, Blood Kink, Blood As Lube, Recreational Drug Use, Bondage and Discipline, Chair Bondage, Non-Sexual Bondage, Body Horror, Body Worship, Corporate core, Office Sex, Police Officer Dick Grayson, Restraints, Angry Sex, Angry Kissing, Fake Character Death, Survivor Guilt, Power Imbalance, Power Play, Office SIREN reader, suits & bandages, whump, can u notice i got a thing for blood aha

Jason bares his teeth. “ I find a dragonfly, ensnared in my trap.”

Red Hood/You. Dark & Explicit Themes. Mind the Tags.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Five Fics Friday: March 29/24

Happy Friday Everyone, and Happy Easter Long Weekend! Here are some great fics to get you through the weekend!! And please be sure to give the boosted fic some extra love! Enjoy!

SIGNAL BOOSTING

Pocketful of sunshine by good_vibes_mostly (G, 2,618 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Kissing, Developing Relationship, One Shot, POV Sherlock, Five and One, Hand Holding, Sherlock and Kids) – 5+1 times John used Sherlock's pockets.

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A Minor Exorcism by sgam76 (G, 2,319+ w., 1/? Ch. || Post-S4, Parentlock with Rosie, Implied / Referenced Child Abuse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Homophobia, PTSD Sherlock) – They're a real family, these days. Rosie's growing, and Sherlock and John are settling into the people they want to be, a little at a time. But an unexpected, violent incident uncovers some remaining unresolved issues that threaten their peace. Part 15 of Scheherezade 'vers Series

The Rescuing by BakerTumblings (M, 5,296+ w., 2/12 Ch. || WiP || Canon Compliant Until S3, Medical Realism, Military Background, Peril, Medical Trauma, Rescue Missions, Trauma Recovery, BAMF Mycroft, BAMF John, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Sherlock Whump) – Captain Watson to the rescue! Series compliant until beginning of Season 3 - then all bets are off. Sherlock, off in Serbia, has been captured and severely injured. Mycroft recruits John to aid with freeing him and then overseeing his recovery. The story begins in London but will explode in Serbia, slide into a European hospital and then tiptoe through a safe-house before returning to Baker Street.

Nightjet by khorazir (M, 22,051 w., 2 Ch. || Post-TRF Hiatus, Grief/Mourning, Pining, Friends to Lovers, Past Drug Use, Night Train, Germany, Bed Sharing, First Kiss / Time, Angst, Reunion) – Officially deceased for eighteen months and still looking for the last remainders of Moriarty’s criminal empire, an exhausted Sherlock boards a night train in Germany to bring him to his next hunting ground. Due to a mishap with the sleeper cars, he is forced to share a compartment with a stranger – who turns out to be not quite as strange as Sherlock thought. The universe isn’t lazy, after all ...

RECENTLY BOOKMARKED LOKIUS FICS

The Green Means I Love You by VeggieHarumaki (T, 3,576 w. 1 Ch. || LOKI SERIES || Soul Mates AU || Colourblindness, Pining, Caring Mobius, First Kiss, Pining Mobius, POV Mobius, Forehead Touching, Angst with Happy Ending) – Green. It's the first color Mobius sees. His world fills with new colors, sensory levels overwhelmed as his gaze scatters across the courtroom. Browns, yellows, colors he'd only heard of before he finally sees with his own eyes. But the green. The cold, emerald green. L1130 stares back at Mobius, eyes full of suspicion, and Mobius can't help but let his breath hitch. Oh no. Mobius' heart sinks as fast as it had risen. This variant, L1130, Loki, is his soulmate. But Mobius had read Loki's files one too many times to forget. Mobius is not Loki's. 

[samtheacesheep]

Work Description:

Melissa Chase was crushed when her best friend Milo disappeared.

Now she is older, tougher, and meaner. But a chance encounter with a figure from her past starts to tear down her walls.

———

@cantdanceflynn this time the contents are your fault /positive

[thatthirdtriplet]

Relationships:

Tim Drake & Dick Grayson Tim Drake & Jason Todd Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne Tim Drake & Damian Wayne Tim Drake & Barbara Gordon Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne Jason Todd & Damian Wayne Dick Grayson & Jason Todd Dick Grayson & Koriand'r Roy Harper/Jason Todd Dick Grayson/Wally West Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne Cassandra Cain & Tim Drake Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne Alfred Pennyworth & Bruce Wayne Cassandra Cain & Bruce Wayne Tim Drake & Kon-El | Conner Kent Bart Allen & Tim Drake & Kon-El | Conner Kent & Cassie Sandmark Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent

Characters:

Tim Drake Dick Grayson Jason Todd Bruce Wayne Damian Wayne Alfred Pennyworth Barbara Gordon Roy Harper Koriand'r (DCU) Wally West Cassandra Cain Stephanie Brown Kon-El | Conner Kent Prudence Wood Bart Allen Cassie Sandsmark Ra's al Ghul

Additional Tags:

Age Regression/De-Aging fluff hood Sibling Dick Grayson protective Dick Grayson good Sibling Jason Todd family Fluff family Feels family Dynamics Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent kid Tim Drake baby Tim Drake past Relationship(s) Past Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson Protective Jason Todd Implied/Referenced Child Neglect Past Dick Grayson/Koriand'r Past Jason Todd/Koriand'r Past Rape/Non-con Trauma Past Sexual Assault Hurt/Comfort Crying Panic Attacks Dissociation Whump Self-Harm vomiting self-Induced Vomiting joker Junior StuffPast Stephanie Brown/Tim Drake Lazarus Pit Madness (DCU) No Pit Rage episode though Bruce Wayne is Tim Drake's Biological Parent Attempted Sexual Assault Non-Consensual Touching minor Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent De-Aged Tim Drake accidental Baby Acquisition

Summary:

His comm crackles to life. “RR’s suit is in a pile on the floor,” Jason says, voice grim. “But no sign of him. Something bad must’ve happened if he ditched it all.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s bad, per se,” Dick replies, gazing down at the kid nestled against his chest. Now that he’s looking properly, he can see hints of his little brother in those small features. “But at least I can confidently say that he’s not dead.”

Or:

Tim gets de-aged to four. Dick takes care of him.

[athina-blaine]

Bloodweave Fic Recs (12/8/2023)

I've been devouring fic lately and I figured I may as well do something productive with it.

Format from @inevitably-ineffable-husbands fic rec lists, check out some of their Good Omens fic recs if you're a fan ♥️

||

Four Eyes by trashmaven (G, 1.2k w || Light Angst, Pre-Relationship, Fluff) Gale has a secret.

Of Jackpots and Sticky Fingers by Asidian (G, 2k+ w || Humor, Banter, Gambling) "The nerve," huffs Gale. "Imagine setting a jackpot and then punishing anyone who won it fair and square!" Astarion's eyes flicker from the stalking lizard to Gale, and then back again. It's entirely too innocent of a look.

Hoarding Tendencies by Asidian (G, 4k+ w || Hoarding, Trust Issues Past Deprivation, Past Abuse, Misunderstandings, Starvation, Gift Giving) "My word," says Gale, caught between taken aback and genuinely impressed. "Where does this all fit in your pack?"

Letters From Gale by Modmother (G, 5k+ w WIP || Epistolary) A series of letters from Gale Dekarios to Astarion spanning the year after the defeat of the absolute.

Out of Breath, Out of Time by SadinaSaphrite (T, 1k+ w || Asphyxiation, Strangulation, Hurt/Comfort) Gale is caught in a meazel's garrote and needs some rescuing.

Might Just Make It by lavvyan (T, 2k+ w || Alternate Universe, Canon Divergence, POV Outsider) The group (sans Tav) meet Astarion by the beach. They don't meet Gale. If you ask Astarion, that just means they have to look harder.

in your arms I lie till dawn by shroomonabroom (T, 3k+ w || Hurt/ Comfort, Fluff, Sleep Deprivation) Gale hasn’t slept in several days; Astarion makes things better via food and almost cuddles.

A Practical Guide To Camping by Lunarwench (T 4k+ w || Pre-Relationship, Friendship) How the hell do these idiots have so much stuff when they were all abducted by a flying squid; A Character Study

Come To Mind by ZiGraves (T, 7k+ w || Memory Loss) Something has happened to Gale. Who was Gale, anyway? Well, Gale was himself, obviously, but what did that entail?

In the Dark by LeaXIII (T, 7k+ w || Whump, Light Angst, Tight Spaces, Blood and Injury, Impalement, Blood Drinking, Sexual Tension) Gale and Astarion are caught in a cave-in and no one has a good time. Takes place somewhere in Act 1.

Weakness Coming On by bloodweaving (shipwreckblue) (M, 5k+ w || Enemies to Lovers, Humor, Autistic Gale, Banter, Getting Together) Astarion’s expression settled into an alarming rictus of forced nonchalance. “Oh, please, darling, did you think I was serious?"

The things lost along the way (The things gained at the end) by ThatKorka (M, 14k+ w || Body Horror, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Hopeful Ending, UST) I can smell what’s under those bandages, Wizard, You’re all rot and ruin!

Deliverance by porcelain (E, 2k+ w WIP || Incubus Astarion, Angst/Hurt, Religious Guilt, Minor Character Death, Alternate Universe, Trauma/PTSD, Priest Gale) Third row, on the right, between a now awake grandfather and a nodding teary-eyed mother and bored children and still untouched scriptures. The red of the man’s irises narrow, and he flashes a smile at him, wicked in a flash of dagger-like teeth. He doesn’t look away, even when Gale does.

Rest, Indulge by ZiGraves (E, 6k+ w || Consensual Somnophilia, Blood Drinking) The slow, drowsy way that Gale’s eyelids flutter before they open fully is its own particular pleasure, and he leans into Astarion’s hand while still half-dozing enough to luxuriate without thinking. Consciousness comes back in a slow rolling wave, free of the stresses of their old camp life that might necessitate instant wakefulness. Astarion watches each moment as it builds, crests, breaks, until his wizard is awake and meeting his eyes with warm curiosity.

Friday Nights by SadinaSaphrite (E, 23k+ w || Alternate Universe, College/University, Modern with Magic, Getting Together, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Blood and Injury, Violence, Fluff, Medium Burn) Professor Gale Dakarios loses his research, his magic, and his lover Mystra all at once and only has himself to blame. When he goes to drown his sorrows, he meets a pale stranger with mysteries of his own.

The stars began to burn by peregrinefeathers (E, 33k+ w WIP || Alternate Universe, Canon Divergence, Slow Burn, Past Sexual Abuse, Psychic Bond, Emotional Manipulation, Blood Drinking) After two centuries of torment, Astarion has given up hope of escaping Cazador's clutches, until a chance encounter with a stolen book introduces him to the disembodied voice of a wizard named Gale of Waterdeep. With the fate of Baldur's Gate in the balance, they must confront their demons and win their freedom - together.

||

Let me know if you'd like a specific rec or want to share some recs of your own!

[justplainwhump]

Files

Adrian plans to move against Jack.

In the timeline, this connects the pieces Gauze and Choices.

[Pet Safety]

Content: BBU, BBU recovery / pet lib setting, vaguely referenced past facility whump, vaguely implied past whump of minors.

Adrian stayed up long. It hurt the wounds in his neck to lay down anyway. As in the nights before, he’d sleep upright in the armchair in his living room. And if he was sitting already - well, he could read up on Jack Donnell.

He’d pulled the files of all Donnell’s pets before the inspection; he still had them saved on his work tablet. He knew the database queries by all WRU’s employees were recorded "for compliance reasons". He just hoped they weren’t paranoid enough to also regularly check their access of files on their own computers. If they did, he’d tell them it was about Bea.

Her case file was the first in the dossier, because she’d been Donnell’s latest acquisition. Adrian had only skimmed through it, back then. His job was to check the Guards, not the other designations; and he’d long learned that reading too many case files would make him angry and restless and lose the focus he needed.

Especially those about Romantics. 

Especially those about second hand Romantics.

He did take the time to read it now.

Romantic pet 400168. Taken in eight years ago, at age 18. His stomach revolted already. It was almost 50-50, he knew. The chances, of an 18 year old trainee being, in fact, 18. It was illegal to process minors. So everyone was always of age. 

She looked tired on the first photos. But stunningly beautiful already. And… almost happy. Relieved, to be at WRU. Adrian wondered, how long that had lasted. He didn’t want to know. So he scrolled on.

Specifications looked like a classic case, except for one line. 'English language training. Defamiliarization with native language (Spanish).'

Some training notes, that sounded smug and highly satisfied. 

Sale to a corporate lawyer, who paid extra for someone 'who looked like a virgin and fucked like a whore'.

Seven years with the guy.

Then refurb.

Hadn’t looked or felt like a virgin any longer, Adrian thought grimly; but then reassessed.

'Runaway. Rebellious behavior. Disloyal. Refurb and disciplinary measures necessary.'

'Intended sale to family friend.'

'Specification: Strict defamiliarization with Platonic/Domestic WRU Pet 278017. Strongly discouraging bonds with other pets. Fear response (new prospective’s wishes) ; to be enforced by training with Guard trainees.' 

Adrian stared at the closed door to his bedroom, behind which Bea was sleeping. Good for that first owner that his name was blacked out in the files, and that Adrian couldn’t access it without risking his own life, and hers. 

Bad for Jack Donnell, that Adrian knew his name.

The contract was simple; it included that there’d been some faults about her second wipe, issues with discipline and short term memory; and the buyer’s response that he knew her well enough and he’d still take her.

The photos on that contract were different. Still a perfectly pretty face, still barely any marks on her body. But the look in her eyes, this time was… haunted. Afraid.

Just as Jack had ordered. 

Teeth clenched, Adrian swiped to the next files.

The Guards’ documents he’d seen before, had had his suspicions about before as well. Before Bea had confirmed them. 'They all fight.' 

Background of experienced fighters, all of them. Former soldiers, mercenaries, martial arts fighters, gangsters. Some had been recruited directly into WRU from prison, instead of serving long sentences. The missing one, the one Bea had called Mac, was one of them. His former self’s list of crimes was impressive. Adrian was pretty sure it had only grown longer during Jack’s ownership. Including assault on Bea. At least in a better world, where hurting someone like her wouldn’t be a misdemeanor at best.

Whatever Mac had done to her though, whatever the others had done, in this life or their past - the one who controlled it all now was Jack.

Adrian’s hands were tied to come after Jack in his official capacity as Pet Safety Inspector. But there was always another option. Pet lib. If he could find out, where this arena was, where Mac was held, where the others fought sometimes as well, if Marta could send a team there, if they filmed and found and published evidence, even his boss would have no choice but to allow Adrian to act. 

Seizing all his pets. Revoking his pet owner’s license. Smile at him, while dictating all the fines he’d have to pay.

It was far less from what Adrian truly wanted to do to the man. But at least, it would be something.

*

"You know, Adri, you’d also save the pets." Marta said, after he explained his plan to her, a soft frown on her face. "Which is, what pet lib do, right?"

"Um." Adrian tilted his head. "Yeah, I mean, yeah, of course. That’s why I’m talking to you."

"No. You’re talking to me about revenge."

"Revenge would be for me to-" He stopped talking with a side glance to Bea and the runaway he’d helped during the raid, Noor, at the other end of the room. 

Marta and he spoke Spanish, so he was painfully aware that Bea wouldn’t want to listen in - but she could. And she shouldn’t hear these things from him. He was a better man than her owners had been. He swore, he’d keep her from violence. 

"Revenge would be more violent," he settled.

Marta scoffed, not convinced. "Sure. So. Anyway. If we do this, I don’t want you to confiscate them. I want to get them out for good. You find out where and what this place is, when they have their next fights. I find a safe space for a handful of recently freed, traumatized Fighters. It’ll take a while. So you take it slow, too, alright?"

He looked over at Bea, and she smiled back on instinct.

He would need her help to make out this place. She’d been there before, and it would hurt her to remember. Taking it slow was the best he could do. For her. After all, this was all for her.

And of course, to also save the other pets.

"Yeah," he sighed. "Yeah, alright. I will take it slow."

-

---

Pet Safety tag list (ask to be added or removed!): @gottawhump @flowersarefreetherapy @whumplr-reader @highwaywhump @tauntedoctopuses @pigeonwhumps @whumppsychology @labgrowndemon @whumpinggrounds @somewhumpyguy @whumpzone @tragedyinblue @theelvishcowgirl @light-me-on-pyre

[critter-genfic-events]

This week, we've got nineteen gen fics featuring your favorite purple tiefling! Whether that's Molly, Lucien, or Kingsley, they're covered here, under the cut. As ever, if you liked them, please leave them a comment or kudos!

it takes two by wastrelwoods (3023,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings: Beauregard Lionett & Mollymauk Tealeaf

Beau and Molly get trapped in a cave-in. Vitriolic bonding ensues.

Reccer says: This fic just absolutely encapsulates everything I love about Molly and Beau.

there’s a ghost in my lungs by QueenWithABeeThrone (289247, Teen) Warnings: Heavy Angst, implying/reference to brainwashing and torture, Hurt/Comfort, mind control aftermath. Pairings: Mollymauk Tealeaf/Caleb Widogast, Beauregard & Fjord & Jester& Nott & Mollymauk Tealeaf & Caleb Widogast & Yasha, Beauregard/Yasha, Fjord/Jester

it is a Mollymauk!Winter Soldier AU

Reccer says: I will never not recommend this fic

Carry It Until We Die by starkraving (64513,Teen) Warnings: Hurt/comfort, angst, temporary Character Death, Whump, canon, divergence Pairings: Mollymauk Tealeaf & The Mighty Nein

Mollymauk resurrection au. Molly comes back to yell at his Level 20 friends.

Reccer says: I liked it!

A Reversal of Fate by FeralScribe (40580, Teen) Warnings: Pairings: Mollymauk Tealeaf & Caleb Widogast

It is a role reversal between Molly and Caleb. So now Molly is the shy traumatized one and Caleb is the carnival amnesiac.

Reccer says: I liked it!

Hook, Line, Sinker by steelneena (5141, Teen) Warnings: Minor Character Death Pairings:

The Nein's arrival in Balenpost from Lucien's POV.

Reccer says: This fic has wonderful characterization, takes a crack theory and runs with it, and is just an al-together delicious read.

what the promised land would promise me by grayintogreen (3169, Teen) Warnings: None Pairings:

The Tombtakers' side of the intuit charge trap.

Reccer says: I liked it!

He Did the Goat Dance Very Well by Operafloozy (13529, Teen) Warnings: None Pairings:

Five tales Kingsley hears about Lucien and Molly, and one time he tells his own.

Reccer says: I love a good Kingsley coming into his own story and coping with what other people say about his previous lives and how he takes that and runs with it. This is a more humorous take on that concept than most.

steady lodged between beast and god by Junkyard_Rose (6737, Mature) Warnings: general suicidal ideation Pairings:

Lucien survives the fall of Cognouza; Essek is left with custody.

Reccer says: A well-characterized "Lucien lives" fic that really gets into the trauma of surviving your swan song. Both Lucien and Essek are wonderfully written.

Autotomous, We by InsanitySilver (53978, Teen) Warnings: None Pairings:

Years of high seas adventures pass, but for every ounce of freedom Kingsley Tealeaf gains, the nightmares grow in kind. With the help of the clerics, he sinks into his own mind to root out the source of the corruption, but, in that claustrophobic dream world, he finds unfortunate company—some more … palatable than others.

Reccer says: This fic has a wonderfully unique set piece, a lovely original backstory for Lucien, and vivid descriptions. It's an excellent tale of self-acceptance.

in the dream we are always posthumous by hanap (4219, Teen) Warnings: None Pairings: Lucien & Kingsley Tealeaf & Mollymauk Tealeaf, The Mighty Nein & Kingsley Tealeaf

Kingsley reconciles with the people he was and the person he is now.

Reccer says: This is such a poignant exploration of identity through Kingsley and the Threeleafs. Gorgeously written and structured, it has stuck so vividly in my memory.

Crown of Cinderz by AkizaDragonBane (148365, Teen) Warnings: Slow Burn, Inspired by Tumblr, Alternate Universe, royal au, Fluff and Angst, Eventual Smut, Violence, Blood and Gore, Implied/Referenced Torture, Childhood Trauma, Attempted Murder, Attempted Kidnapping Pairings: Mollymauk Tealeaf/Caleb Widogast, Ashton Greymoore/Mollymauk Tealeaf

Mysteriously appearing when Lucien Nonagon starts hunting his two brothers. It also happens Mollymauk is seeking refuge for him and his toddler brother. Coming to the throne of the most fearsome ruler in Wildmount. Will Caleb Widowgast take the risk and take them in is the real question?

Reccer says: I liked it!

Wine-Dark Sea by fruitzbat (161010, Mature) Warnings: This piece is pretty heavily focused on post-traumatic, post-apocalyptic and post-genocidal themes. Most of the POV characters are struggling with some form of PTSD. Pairings: Kingsley/Original Character, Fjord/Jester.

Kingsley has just freed himself from something extraordinarily traumatic and is trying to rebuild something after it -- the question is more *what*.

Reccer says: This is a sequel to another iconic Kingsley-centric fic that may have already made the list; unlike the first, this is slower in pace and focuses a lot more on the characterization. I love the way that, while it does have some focus on his relationship to a supporting character, it's entirely about exploring Kingsley (as a character)'s relationship to the notion of free choice. His character arc in this is really well done. The themes are quite heavy, but are explored very thoughtfully and with the weight that they deserve.

The Fathoms Below by Lady_King (6423, Teen) Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Pairings: Fjord & Jester Lavorre & Kingsley Tealeaf

while shipping a priority item, the crew of the Nein Heroez attract some attention from the deep...

Reccer says: An extremely well-written fight scene and aftermath that feels like it could slot perfectly into canon.

It’ll Be Over Soon by NKMLN (27,898, Mature) Warnings: Pairings: Fjord/Jester, Fjord & King, Jester & King, Caduceus & King, King & Molly & Lucien

When a trip to check on Bwualli goes wrong, Kingsley finds himself marooned in the Shattered Teeth, far from the reach of the gods. World history ensues.

Reccer says: This fic is my baby. I worked really hard on writing a good horror fic, only to be informed that i had not written a horror fic and had, in fact, written a tragedy. I put a lot of love into this. I hope you enjoy.

looking glass by Anubis_2701 (26721, Mature) Warnings: Pairings: Lucien & Mollymauk Tealeaf, The Mighty Nein & Mollymauk Tealeaf, Cree & Lucien, Lucien & The Mighty Nein

Lucien and Molly are twins. with a different back story

Reccer says: I liked it!

The Fool and The Soldier by mare_astrorum (123354, Mature) Warnings: Pairings: The Mighty Nein & Mollymauk Tealeaf

Mollymauk Tealeaf survived the Mighty Nein's encounter with the Iron Shepherds on Glory Run Road, but a short time later, a spirit began hunting him, claiming that he stole his body. This Campaign 2 AU begins with Episode 26 and continues on from there.

Reccer says: I liked it!

Let Your Bloated Brain Balloon and Float Away by R_Black (5074, Teen) Warnings: Major Character Death Pairings: Lucien & Mollymauk Tealeaf

After Lucien dies for the second time, he gets to chat a bit with the special sliver of his soul that broke off after his first death.

Reccer says: I adored the descriptions and worldbuilding of this version of the afterlife, and both Lucien and Molly's characterizations felt true to form and uniquely distinct in the best way possible.

And then two recs each for these two fics!

the same twist in your heart as mine by hanap (6000,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings: Kingsley Tealeaf & Aldreda Tavelle Seriblo, Lucien & Aldreda Tavelle Seriblo, Kingsley Tealeaf & Essek Thelyss, Kingsley Tealeaf & Caleb Widogast, Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast

In which Kingsley discovers that the last occupant of his body had a younger sister.

Reccer 1 says: I think the most compelling thing to come out of the Nine Eyes of Lucien was that Lucien had a sister living in Rexxentrum the entire time. I like this fic's characterization of Kingsley, and the soft and heartbreaking reunion. Reccer 2 says: One of the thoughts that loomed largest in my mind after finishing Nine Eyes was "What would happen if King learned about Aldreda?" and this fic is *such* an interesting, emotion-filled exploration of that. Things did not play out how I expected they would in the best of ways, which is all I'll say on that. Never enough Kingsley fic in the world and getting into his head and how he would handle things was so fascinating and enjoyable here. Also, Essek and Kingsley's friendship is to die for and an excellent side to this fic!

Crowned Teeth (Or, An Offering Revoked) by fruitzbat (130,570, Teen) Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence Pairings: Kingsley Tealeaf/Original Character

After a standard trip towards the Bay of Gifts goes horribly wrong, Kingsley finds himself trapped and vowing to himself to hold those responsible to the light -- betrayed, isolated, and far from home, Kingsley must carve out his own destiny and forge a legacy he can say is worthy of those who came before him.

Reccer 1 says: This fic is absolutely amazing on every level, taking a sentence worth of a setting and expanding it into a beautiful bunch of worldbuilding. The original characters are amazing, the lore is air-tight, and it reads very much like a canon novel I could pick up in a bookstore. There is romance towards the end, but I consider it more of a "story with kissing" as opposed to "kissing with story" and the relationships between King and his crew are all developed well. This is also the first fic in a trilogy and all of them are worth a read. Reccer 2 says: This has some of the best worldbuilding I’ve ever seen in a fic. The world of piracy and sailing Kingsley inhabits is painstakingly described and true to life, and the portrayal of Kingsley’s state of mind, his friends and his enemies here is on point. I highly recommend this whole series for anyone who likes to wonder what Kingsley’s time on the seas and eventual journey to become Plank King might have entailed.

If you liked this rec list, follow along for more! We'll be posting a new list with a new theme each Monday. Want to make your own recs? Check out the rules, and then use the form to submit!

Next week, we'll be reccing fic featuring any of the campaign's pets! This includes familiars, noncanonical pets, Trinket and any flame spirit monkey children that pop up from time to time.

If you're looking for some more, there's some good stuff in the critter genfic bingo tag! Or you can request your own card and join in on the fun!