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sihtricfedaraaahvicius · 8 months

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The Phantom of Bebbanburg

Chapter 1.

Note: happy spooky season! this fic is split up in several chapters. I hope you will enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them.

Warning for entire series: fluff/angst. mention of ghosts/hauntings/deaths.

pairing: Sihtric x you (f)

summary: You had only just started your work as a maid in Bebbanburg, when an encounter with a breathtaking Dane changed everything.

wordcount: 2,1k

Masterlist

'We don't know who roams out there… or what.'

Prologue.

The stronghold you now worked and lived in was enormous. Its hallways were always filled with chatter, and the large windows welcomed in the bright daylight, making it a pleasant place to roam around for hours, which you did if you didn't have duties to attend to. But even while being at work, you always took your time, wandering from door to door, from hall to hall, doing your tasks around the fortress with a beaming smile.

Your family had been poor when you grew up, so to now live in a rich place such as Bebbanburg, even while being a maid, was the most luxurious life you had ever known, and you loved it.

But… when night fell over the castle by the sea, the corridors inside became dimly lit by torches and the flickering flames of numerous candle lit chandeliers. The huge, iron chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, and sometimes they eerily swayed when a gust of wind had managed to sneak inside the castle, past the guards, into the hallways. Or at least, a gust of wind is what you hoped that caused it, whenever you witnessed the chandeliers swinging back and forth in the night. And during those dark hours, you always rushed through the then horribly quiet and seemingly abandoned passages, back to your own chamber, where you felt safe.

This place had seen much bloodshed throughout the years, and the rumours spread quickly from maid to maid; the castle was haunted, supposedly. The stories were not for the faint of heart, and many maids before you had packed their belongings and left early in the morning, without a warning, after being convinced they had heard the dead roam around at night. You had heard stories of those who claimed to hear faint battle cries in the courtyard after dark, accompanied by the clashing sound of swords on shields. There were also stories of how maids were chased down the hallways, while invisible hands tugged at their clothes and hair, believed to be done by the spirits of men who had died in battle and were forever seeking comfort. You didn't believe in ghost stories much, but you will admit, you had been startled from time to time too, while doing your work in and around the haunted castle.

However… you had never been startled by a ghostly visitor. Instead, you were startled by the light taunting of a handsome Dane, who seemed to lovingly haunt you after he had taken a liking to you, ever since you first met that one night at the stables…

1. The moonlit stranger.

One of your friends, a fellow maid, had told you a story earlier in the day, after you told her your new task was to water the horses at night, and her words had put a fright into you.

'I heard that the maid who used to water the horses would only go in the early morning, at dawn.'

'But the horses need to be watered before midnight?' you frowned.

'Yes, but… the previous maid believed the courtyard was haunted, she would hear footsteps following her around in the night. So she decided to only go there when there was a hint of daylight,' your friend whispered as you stood in the kitchen, 'but when she arrived the next morning, she found the horses had been taken care of in the night...'

Your friend stared at you with big eyes, and you shrugged.

'So?' you scoffed, 'another maid took care of it?'

'No,' your friend shook her head, 'she asked around, and no one had done it. No one knows who waters the horses at night, and no one dares to go and find out,' she took your hands, 'please, promise me to be careful tonight! We don't know who roams out there… or what.'

Dressed in merely a thin brown dress, you made haste through the darkened courtyard, holding a small torch to guide your way through the night, while the full Moon kept occasional watch as she peeked through the thick clouds every now and then. It was a cold, autumn night. You cursed yourself for not throwing a warm cloak around your shoulders before you had left the castle, towards the stables, to fulfil your last duty of the day before you could retreat to your sleeping chamber. But you had planned on being quick anyway, after that story you were told, regardless of the weather.

You quickly fetched fresh water for the horses and carried the heavy bucket into the stable, with a struggle. To make it slightly easier, you freed one hand by pushing the burning torch into the moist ground that surrounded you. And just when you picked the bucket up again, with both hands, a cold wind howled through the trees, extinguishing the flame of your torch and leaving you in sudden darkness as the Moon was tucked away behind the clouds again.

You froze at the sudden sound of leaves rustling behind you.

'They usually don't do this,' a voice behind you sounded.

You almost dropped the full bucket as you jumped at the sound, spilling gushes of water all over your feet, much to the man's pleasure. Which became evident when you turned to look at whoever's soft, deep voice had just startled you. And you took his appearance in with wide eyes as the Moon decided to have a look of her own.

The mysterious man was tall and lean, his shoulder length hair dark, as was his well kept goatee. He was at least six paces away from you, leaning with one shoulder against a wooden beam, his wrists resting on his black leather belt, while his tattooed fingers were mindlessly playing with the several rings that decorated his digits. His skin was pale in the bright moonlight, revealing the several scars that graced his face.

His beautiful face.

It was a face unlike any you had ever seen before. His eyes dark and piercing, fixated on you, while his expression remained friendly and curious. His cheekbones edged, sharpened to perfection, highlighted by the moon's bright glow while his loose, slightly wild hair casted thin strands of shadows on his profile. His lips were curled into a small, playful smile, revealing the fact he had enjoyed the mild scare he just gave you.

You caught a glimpse of the tattoo on his neck, only just barely peeking out from underneath the black fur that warmed him, which draped down his shoulders, onto his torso. And then you took notice of the bronze Mjölnir pendant, resting on his thickly clothed chest, between the fur of his dark, leather tunic.

A Dane.

You took a step back. You weren't really afraid of the Danes, now that the lands had actually been at peace for a while already, but you knew it was wise to be a little wary of them, as not all were accepting of the Saxons, and you were simply a defenceless Saxon maid in the night.

'W-what do you mean?' you stammered as you stared at the man who took your breath away, 'w-who doesn't do what usually?'

The man tilted his head to the side, another smile tugging at his lips, which he wetted with his tongue before you were blessed with the sound of his pleasant voice again.

'The maids,' he said, 'they usually don't water the horses at night. They only appear along with dawn, wanting to be accompanied by the day's light.'

'Oh,' you mumbled, breathless, not being able to take your eyes off him.

He was gorgeous, enchanting even, and you felt drawn to him immediately. Your heart skipped a few beats when the man pushed himself away from the beam, stepping closer towards you.

'My name is Sihtric,' he smiled, 'I used to be a warrior under Lord Uhtred's command. I was one of the men who helped him capture all this,' he said and gestured around the place.

You knew of Lord Uhtred, but you had no idea who the men were he had fought alongside with. However, you knew Uhtred had been a good man, so his warriors would undoubtedly be good men too, you figured.

'Lord Uhtred?' you asked, still cautiously but more at ease, 'I have heard of him,' you said, 'may he rest in peace.'

You made a quick sign of the cross. You knew Uhtred had died shortly after the battle of Bebbanburg, which was several years ago now, and the lands being at peace had been all because of him, and his men.

'He is without a doubt feasting in Valhalla,' Sihtric said softly, clutching his pendant, 'he died peacefully with a sword in hand,' he paused, 'in this castle, actually.'

'In this castle?'

Your eyes grew big, and you suddenly wondered if Uhtred was the ghost who was supposedly haunting the hallways at night.

'Yes, my lady,' Sihtric said, then chuckled lightly, 'it is even rumoured his soul still wanders through the castle at night.'

'So it is true?' you gasped, 'this place is haunted?' you swallowed hard, 'and it's… it's Lord Uhtred?'

'I never said that,' Sihtric smiled with a wink, and he stepped closer once again.

He now towered over you, his soft smile never leaving his face. And it was only then, when you were so close to him you could smell his ale scented breath, that you discovered his mismatched eyes. Sihtric allowed you to inspect his appearance in complete silence, and he was glad to finally encounter a maid who didn't seem to be frightened by his appearance. Being a Dane who resided near a Saxon ruled castle was not always easy, as many feared his intentions, simply judging him by his rough look.

'S-so you… do you work here too?' you eventually asked.

'No,' Sihtric said, 'but I am often here to kill some time. And to make sure the horses have water,' he chuckled lightly, 'no one realises it's just me who waters them when a maid decides to drop her task and leave.'

'So it is you who roams around here in the dark, and not some creature of the night,' you smiled with a breath of relief, 'it is very kind of you to look after the horses, but it is my duty now,' you said, to which the Dane smiled. 'Do you live in the castle too?' you wondered.

'No, my lady,' Sihtric answered, 'I reside just outside of these walls. I enjoy my peace and quiet now, since I have no more battles to fight,' he smiled, 'and not everyone is fond of me here, as I am a Dane, and I'd rather not disturb the peace I fought for,' he said, 'but… perhaps, I could show you my place some time?'

'Perhaps,' you smiled shyly, and nervously bit down on your lip.

You gazed into each other's eyes, as if in trance, which was only broken when a hard gust of wind suddenly rolled through the courtyard. You shivered at the chilly touch of air, your thin dress wasn't suited to wear outside in the cold, but you hadn't expected to be out here for this long. Sihtric noticed the goosebumps on your skin as the moon illuminated your bare neck, and his friendly smile disappeared, making place for a soft, concerned look.

'You should head back inside, lady,' he said sweet yet urgent, 'the night will only grow colder, you might get sick if you stay out here.'

You nodded with a weak smile. For some reason you didn't want to leave this beautiful stranger yet, but you knew he was right. Besides the coldness, it was also getting late, and you had duties in the morning for which you wanted to be well rested.

'I should head back,' you agreed.

'Let me escort you,' Sihtric smiled, 'your torch has gone out and the way back is dark.'

You hooked your elbow with his, and so Sihtric guided you back to the castle, in silence.

'I enjoyed our encounter,' you said, as you stood at the backdoor of the kitchen, which led into the castle.

'The pleasure is all mine, my lady,' Sihtric said, and carefully took your hand, 'will you meet me again, tomorrow night?'

'Meet you again?' you felt your cheeks heat up, 't-there will be a feast in the castle, tomorrow evening,' you said, 'but I can… I will try... I would like to meet you again,' you smiled shyly, 'where?'

'At the stables,' he smiled.

'Okay,' you whispered, and giggled softly at his gaze.

'Then I will impatiently wait for you at the stables, tomorrow at night,' he brought your hand up to his lips, 'for now, I wish you a good night's rest, my lady,' Sihtric smiled and pressed a soft kiss to your hand before he turned away.

And you watched him, wandering off into the darkness, as he left you longing for his touch while the Moon hid behind the clouds again.

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#sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #sihtric #sihtric fic #the last kingdom fic #tlk #spooky season #spooky season fic

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dramioneficrecommendations · 1 year

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Best Draco/Hermione Fics Dramione Shippers Read in 2022

A few weeks ago, I asked you what were the best Dramione fics you’d read in 2022. Here’s the long list of your top-notch recs (in alphabetical order):

262 Days by RoseDeVents: Draco becomes captivated by Hermione. Hermione becomes Draco’s captive. It takes them 262 days to snap. Written for HP Call Me Daddy Fest 2022 for the prompt: Inspired by YOU (Netflix series). Angst. Dark. E, 7 Chapters, 19,915 Words

A Bitter Justice by gloivy: When Hermione first heard the news, tears of joy rained from her eyes. It felt so good—so bloody fantastic—to know that the universe was finally on her side. Because Draco Malfoy, notorious blood supremacist, had borne a son with no more magic than a common muggle. And it was justice. G, 1 Chapter, 4,679 Words

A Different Sort of Impossible by TeaInACoffeeMug: Hermione Granger is going to try her seventh year over again. She's going to be Head Girl. She's going to spend time with her friends. She's going to relax and enjoy a perfectly normal school year for the first time. She's going to earn her N.E.W.Ts so she can join the Ministry, and the Ministry is going to be new - reformed - revived. She's going to assist a student who's been rendered permanently blind after an assault during the summer. An assault while in Auror custody. * Professor McGonagall pushed open the door without ceremony and Hermione gaped at the teen slouched in a chair half-facing her. It couldn’t be. “Malfoy?” He jumped, crossed arms unfolding to grip the chair, as if he hadn’t seen her - because, of course, he couldn’t. - Hiatus: returning when my shoulder is healed M, WIP

A Duty of Care by findinghome20: “Your sleeping problem. How long has it been going on?” “I don’t…Malfoy, I don’t have sleeping problem.” “You’re lying.” ---------- It’s been six years since the Battle of Hogwarts. In the midst of a new and brutal war, Hermione Granger cannot recognize the soldier she’s become. Healer Draco Malfoy has enough on his plate without worrying about Granger and her martyr complex. Why, then, can he not banish her from his mind? It’s a duty of care, he tells himself. A duty of care, and nothing more. E, WIP

A Fair Exchange Is No Robbery by calico_writes: Theirs is a marriage of convenience: she needed funding for her nonprofit, and he needed a trophy wife and family. A year into their arrangement, Hermione has discovered parts of herself that fill her with shame. E, 1 Chapter, 1,915 Words

a house, a home by harlowvera: "I believe in opportunity, Miss Granger, and I'd like to give you one. Should you be a good match for my son, you will be well provided for, and you will be allowed to continue on with your studies and pursuit of a university education." He leans forward, gently wiping a residual tear drying on her cheek, before plucking a rogue daffodil from the ground, an odd sight to behold in autumn. "Think about it, Miss Granger. I'll send a carriage in two days time to the Three Broomsticks. If you're interested, please be timely." She doesn't have to think very hard on his offer, and finds herself with her meager belongings packed into two small suitcases waiting on the steps of the tavern two nights later, hope in her heart and freedom on her mind. M, 1 Chapter, 5,642 Words

A Safe, Devoted Darkness by HeyJude19: Hermione did not believe in things like auras, she’d quit Divination after all, but a chill emanated from the space. It warned of a haunted, twisted place. The abandoned house at the end of the lane you don’t dare approach on Hallowe’en. The cellar door you don’t dare open when you’re home alone. The wooded path you don’t dare cut through at night even if it would be the quickest way home.Only darkness awaited her there. In the last aisle of Malfoy Manor’s library. E, 8 Chapters, 38,193 Words

All that is Rare by smithandbarrowman: In the wizarding world, it has long been assumed that men are Alphas and women are Omegas. However, when Hermione Granger discovers that assumptions are rarely factual, her status as one of only a handful of female alphas that has ever existed has men falling at her feet. But there’s only one man she wants, and like the male alphas before her, the hunt is on until he bears her mark. E, 31 Chapters, 119,755 Words

Because of You by Stein048: In the midst of the Battle, Draco Malfoy finds himself torn between wanting to do the right thing and joining his family. What happens when his choice is made for him by none other than Hermione Granger? And where will that decision lead him? **COMPLETE**** This is a reader request. **This is part 1 of a 2 part series, the second being the “what if” had happened instead of this. E, 50 Chapters, 85,778 Words

Because of You- Bathroom AU by Stein048: The highly request “bathroom AU” scene from Because of You….what if Hermione and Draco had never been interrupted that moment in the bathroom? **this is currently a one-shot smut chapter…I may indulge myself in the future to return to it but as for now, this is what you get** Friends and family, move along. E, 1 Chapter, 4,686 Words

Me After You by Stein048: **Complete** The alternate of "Because of You"; What if that night in the bathroom had occurred and they had never been interrupted? (Please read the one-shot AU that shows this incident. *wink* ) Where would Draco and Hermione find themselves after his release from Azkaban? **This will be updated a min once/week ATM until I complete another work.** A thank you to my beta-readers; Slytherclaw_xo & Shreya E, 30 Chapters, 67,696 Words

Between The Lines by dracoslittlepet: She used to mildly tolerate him, he used to loathe her. But what if his intentions had secretly come from a good place? What if the notorious Slytherin golden boy secretly harboured certain feelings for the bookish Gryffindor? What would happen if, Merlin forbid, he actually let slip those feelings he has for her...? 1 Chapter

Break For Me by Ada_P_Rix: "-I told them this wouldn’t work.” He cut in through gritted teeth as he kept his eyes on Hermione, making her pulse quicken and she couldn’t help but clench her thighs together at the rough, husky tone of his voice. He didn’t miss it; his eyes landed on her thighs and they darkened even further. “I can’t help her when all I feel like I want to do is pin her down and fuck her into the mattress.”_______Hermione gets into a little accident at work and is infected with a hybrid potion created to cause certain heightened side effects. Draco offers to stick around to give his work partner a little support ... if he can Occlude long enough to resist her... E, 4 Chapters, 45,039 Words

Bring Him to His Knees by Musyc: Draco is on the case of a murderer, but to investigate, he needs a fake relationship - and a kink club play partner. When Hermione volunteers to take the role, both do their best to maintain the lie without letting each other know the truth: neither of them are acting. E, 31 Chapters, 246,526 Words

Carpathian by niffizzle: The sprawling mountains of the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary offered a perfect chance for renewed self-discovery. Lush landscapes. Majestic beasts. It was intended to be Hermione’s escape. Except, she hadn’t been alone in that plan.Four years had passed since she last saw him, and to her knowledge, no one else in Britain had either. Rumours had sprouted like plants under a Herbivicus Charm after he failed to return for the second half of their final year at Hogwarts. Even Hermione hadn’t been able to resist the question in nearly every student’s mind: Where had Draco Malfoy gone?Apparently, she now had the answer. E, 22 Chapters, 102,177 Words

Contradictions by ambpersand: When Hermione Granger is presented with a problem, she turns to research. Information, hypotheses, and experiments… These are all things she knows and loves, so it should come as no surprise that when she finds herself with a problem in the bedroom, she knows exactly how to find a solution. And it just so happens that the solution is in the arms of a strong and confident stranger, with hands and lips that know just how to drive her body wild. The only problem? They belong to Draco Malfoy, the one person she should never trust. E, 16 Chapters, 173,375 Words

Custom Fit by thebrightcity: Hermione Granger can't stand working with Draco Malfoy, and she gets especially angry when he sends their intern on the most ridiculous errands. When Malfoy sends a note telling the intern to fetch a pair of cufflinks, Hermione takes matters into her own hands. E, 2 Chapters, 6,376 Words

disparate by Stars_in_motion: au where omegas who go neglected by their alpha for a long time often go into breakthrough heats when being around a different, compatible alpha who displays one (1) caretaking trait around them "You– you brought me supper?" Malfoy eyed her warily. "Don't look so stricken. Do you think I haven't noticed you've been starving yourself for days? You were at your desk when I arrived this morning and haven't moved since." He opened the box of fruit and plucked out a single grape with his sinfully long fingers. Still seated in her desk chair, Malfoy loomed over her entirely so she couldn't look anywhere else. Sometimes it was easier to forget how large he really was. "Now eat." E, WIP

Don't Call Me Baby by gloivy: A dinner party at Grimmauld Place tests Draco’s sanity as he comes to terms with his feelings for Hermione. M, 1 Chapter, 7,292 Words

Don't Look Back by Onyx_and_Elm: It’s the smell of it. Chemical. Bitter and sharp as a raw edge on metal. Just a hint of it as she passes him at breakfast — but enough to stop her dead, mid-step. There is Wolfsbane in his tea. E, WIP

Draco Malfoy and the Mortifying Ordeal of Being in Love by isthisselfcare: Hermione straddles the magical and non-magical worlds as a medical researcher and Healer about to make a Big Discovery. Draco is an Auror assigned to protect her from forces unknown – to both of their displeasure. Features hypercompetent, fiery Hermione and lazy, yet dangerous, Draco. Slow burn. E, 36 Chapters, 199,644 Words

Fool's Gold by itsgivingcamp: Ten years into her career at the Ministry of Magic, Hermione Granger is offered the assignment of a lifetime. The catch? She'd have to work with her childhood nemesis, Draco Malfoy... and does he have to be so bloody fit? - A slow-ish burn that hits just about every trope. We're talking co-workers, one bed, fake relationship, and so much more. Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to these characters, etc. everything owned by She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. E, 29 Chapters, 60,402 Words

Haunted, Hollow, Hopeful, Cursed by HoneyOvercast: “Pansy, I’m still not seeing what this has to do with me. You all clearly know more about the curse than I do. So what could I…” “Granger...” Pansy interrupted. “We need you because aside from Astoria, who is worsening with time…” Pansy had to take a breath and steel herself at the words before she could continue. Astoria gave Pansy a brief nod and squeeze of the hand. “You’re the only person who has ever survived it.” E, 56 Chapters, 267,306 Words

Hermione Isn't Here by whinnybaby: She’s naked and she’s not herself. His hands slither back up her skin; he kisses her throat; he gropes her breasts; he mutters direction in her ear; he lays her on his bed; he takes her from behind. His hands gripping her hips and arse are revulsion. His grunts and groans are disgust. She’s just let Draco Malfoy come inside her, and he has no idea who she is. E, 3 Chapters, 22,546 Words

Hide and Seek by catchthedawn: During a game of Hide and Seek, Draco and Hermione hide together and play their own games and even make some confessions... E, 1 Chapter, 4,548 Words

Hot Mess by khakis: His hand drifted up to grip the back of her neck, the other to her hip. “I want it to be true too badly. For you to be mine. It’s madness to say you belong with me, but it's been driving me mad to deny it. I’m going to prove that you do over and over until you never walk away from me like that again. Until you never fucking forget it.” Hermione didn’t bother telling him that short of Obliviation, there was no chance she ever would. She was too eager to find out exactly what he meant. “Please.” (Or: Hermione miscalculates. Draco refuses to let her get away with it.) E, 1 Chapter, 10,549 Words

House Husband by sodamnrad: omg... they were roommates (includes ripped Draco art by catmintandthyme) E, 1 Chapter, 8,900 Words

House Pet by NinaBinaBallerina: After a dark curse, the wizarding world is left barren. Facing extinction, the Purebloods subjugate the muggles, searching for the rare muggleborns—the only witches able to reproduce. Raised in the Nott household as a pampered pet, Hermione is forced to enter the Trials as she comes of age—a competition created for pureblood wizards to claim a breeder. Determined to win her, Draco Malfoy only knew two things: she belonged to him, and he’d destroy anyone who tried to take her. But the cries of the enslaved muggles pierce through Hermione's comfortable life, causing her to reexamine everything she thought she knew about her world and the people in it. She soon discovers that the ancient call of magic and vengeance cannot be denied. Plot inspired by the Prince of Egypt, with themes from the Handmaid's Tale. E, WIP

If These Walls Could Talk by incognitotoro: After she makes a rare impulse decision during a stressful situation, Hermione finds her life taking a sharp and unexpected turn. The Job: Six months on an island in County Galway to excavate/study/secure a ruined medieval castle that was once home to a powerful and dangerous witch. Entirely within her capabilities. The problem was the partner. The Partner: Draco Malfoy; black-hearted villain, sarcasm addict and chronic over-dresser. Hijinks, calamity and eventually romance ensues. E, WIP

In Silence & Submission by gillianeliza: 10 years after the war everything has changed. Enemies turned into friends and lovers. Fear turned into hope. Pain into joy. Everyone has moved on except for Hermione Granger. Nestled within her friend group, now made up of not just Harry and Ginny, but also Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini and of course Draco Malfoy, she was content to allow the trauma of her past to haunt her. More than just content - it was what she felt she deserved - until one evening Draco Malfoy decided enough was enough. This is a low stakes, split POV fic that deals heavily with life AFTER the Battle of Hogwarts. You will find the POV of either Hermione or Draco stated in bold italics, in the middle whenever it shifts. Please read all tags as this work deals with BDSM, kink, trauma recovery, & suicidal ideation. E, WIP

In These Silent Days by HeyJude19: Hermione is familiar with fighting: for respect, for attention, for justice. She’s even made a career of it; working on behalf of creatures and beings. But her battle against the Ministry’s marriage law is one she loses. Badly. And now, she has to contend with not only public derision and patriarchal politics, but her growing feelings for her government-mandated spouse. E, WIP

in your mind / out of mine by ambpersand: The first time Hermione Granger thought about Malfoy naked, it had been a fleeting thought. The second time, an accident. But the third... The third time was definitely on purpose. And given the intensity of his responses, it certainly couldn't be helped. E, 4 Chapters, 26,932 Words

Innocent Monsters by itscometothis: Draco Malfoy thought he had reasonable expectations for his mandatory Eighth Year at Hogwarts, where he would be confined to the grounds as part of his probation. Isolation, hatred, and passing his NEWTs were really all he had in mind. What he wasn’t anticipating: 1) Having a small firstie latch onto him like a bloody koala 2) Said firstie adopting an erkling as if they didn’t feed on children. To protect his little nuisance, he’ll have to seek help from uncomfortable places, including the Swottiest Witch of Her Age. Joy of all joys. T, 12 Chapters, 50,035 Words

Instinct and Desire by grace_lou_freebush: Hermione had always relied on her Omega. She'd never felt weaker for her Omega instincts or her personal desires, and often they were one and the same. Draco was tired of being an Alpha. Everyone assumed he loved it. Everyone assumed a lot about him. Hermione is out on a pre-heat shopping trip when her scent blocking potions rub off, enticing miscreant Alphas to attack her. When Draco Malfoy saves her, Hermione trusts her Omega as she decides she wants Draco for their mate. Despite also being drawn to her, Draco isn't sure he can trust his Alpha or her Omega to make rational decisions rather than instinct-led poor choices. Still, he can't help but offer himself to her during her rapidly incoming heat. E, 2 Chapters, 11,058 Words

Instruments of Time by i_know_what_you_wrote_last_summer: A time travelling necklace from his father's study sends Draco's mind flying back to his thirteen-year-old body. Already the cause of so much pain in the original timeline, he refuses to let Buckbeak die because of his past immaturity. Despite this seemingly simple task, he finds himself embroiled in Professor Lupin's past, whilst struggling to keep secrets about the future hidden. Book Two is up! G, 17 Chapters, 71,100 Words

The Sins of His Father by i_know_what_you_wrote_last_summer: As Draco struggles to change Lucius’s ways, he is thrust into fourth year at Hogwarts where an instrument of time can be the difference between Harry Potter competing in the deadly Triwizard Tournament or not. With the help of Hermione – and unlikely friends on the faculty – Draco relives the Triwizard Tournament through a new lens. G, WIP

Let The Dark In by senlinyu: In a world where the rise of Voldemort never occurred, Wizarding society has found new ways to repress and exclude those they consider outsiders. Hermione Granger attends Hogwarts as one of the few Muggle-born students and despite her efforts to make a place for herself, her future seems set in stone, until Sixth Year, when the Triwizard Tournament is announced and everything begins to change. “Bloody hell,” Ron says from beside her. “I think that blond tosser in the front is a Malfoy.” She tears her eyes away to stare at Ron. “A who?” He laughs and points at the blond boy. “Malfoy. I dunno his first name, but he’s definitely got to be a Malfoy. Old pureblood family from here in Britain. Bastards, the lot of them. Always Slytherins here at Hogwarts. Heard his dad sent him to Durmstrang because he didn’t want his son near any Muggle-borns.” M, WIP

Lion in the Snake Pit by keerysmalfoy: “Protego!” Hermione called before another stupefy could be thrown at Theo, and she turned. “Ron!” “Hermione, are you okay?” “Why did you throw a stupefy!” “The Snakes were grabbing at you!” “Actually,” Blaise grunted, rubbing his head as he got up, “we were hugging her.” 1 Chapter, 2,728 Words

Love In A Time Of The Zombie Apocalypse by rizzlewrites: After Voldemort, there was this. The clock is ticking to create a cure to the unimaginable horror that currently grips the world. Hermione finds herself unwillingly allied with the most hated man in Wizarding Britain. (Alternate ending: 'La Vie En Rose', Audiobook by ETL.Echo.Audiobooks). E, 84 Chapters, 355,784 Words

Love in Other Places by mightbewriting: It required a strangely intimate level of trust, assuming Draco wouldn’t willfully mistranslate her, that he accurately interpreted a conversational ebb and flow. It was irritatingly fascinating too, having him focus so acutely on her every word, pause for a beat, and then spin her intentions into a different language. If Hermione allowed herself the moment of indiscretion, she might have described it as a rush. A completely inappropriate rush, but a rush all the same. [In which Hermione discovers an affinity for seeing Draco speak several languages.] E, 4 Chapters, 12,500 Words

Make Me, Malfoy by ambpersand: It started with three simple words. “Make me, Malfoy.” A sharp intake of breath. A straining jaw. A raised eyebrow. A threat, a challenge, a promise. It had been building for months, stewing beneath the surface. It was volatile, dangerous, and completely irresistible. It pulled at Hermione, drawing her in bit by bit, even though she sensed what lay in wait for her. The darkest parts of her couldn’t resist it any longer. E, 2 Chapters, 25,075 Words

Malfoy Shrugged by uselessenglishmajor: February 14th is just another day at the office for Hermione Granger. Shame no one else got the memo. M, 2 Chapters, 11,150 Words

Manacled by senlinyu: Harry Potter is dead. In the aftermath of the war, in order to strengthen the might of the magical world, Voldemort enacts a repopulation effort. Hermione Granger has an Order secret, lost but hidden in her mind, so she is sent as an enslaved surrogate to the High Reeve until her mind can be cracked.Now illustrated by Avendell. E, 77 Chapters, 370,515 Words

Measure Of A Man by inadaze22: To truly know someone is to differentiate between who they once were, who they are now, and who they’re capable of being. Hermione realises the duality of one man as she rectifies what she knows of the past and begins to understand the pieces of who Draco Malfoy is now: a father, a son, and a man. E, 42 Chapters, 590,655 Words

Mon Couteau Aiguise (My Sharp Knife) by gillianeliza: “And you understand, I assume, the implications of wearing a piece of jewelry such as the one you have around your wrist?” Professor Snape asked. Hermione looked down at the bracelet in question, remembering the warm and joyful sensation of it first being clasped around her. The words Draco had spoken – will you have me? Will you accept me? “I do, sir,” she answered in her best impersonation of confidence. “But Miss Granger… I must ask – do you understand the cost?” Her brows pulled together. “The cost, sir?” “The Dark Lord will return, girl... When he returns, Lucius – and I for that matter – must resume our places at his side.” Hermione still said nothing, which she could tell surprised her potions professor greatly, so he continued. “What do you think will happen to Draco when his father once again becomes a follower of the Dark Lord?” The sticky dread clawed its way up her throat, as if choking her. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes as she thought of the implications. “So I ask you again, Miss Granger, do you understand the cost?” This work is a dark, Death Eater Hermione AU that begins during third year. Eventual canon divergence. Please read all tags! E, 99 Chapters, 169,542 Words

Nectere by violetnare: He had a mission and could not fail. A chance encounter with a heartbroken Gryffindor on an autumn evening fractures his resolve. A Sixth Year tale. Nectere: I bind, tie, fasten, connect, interweave, attach; unite; relate. E, 30 Chapters, 156,676 Words

Need you, Granger by Drops_of_CyprusGreen: Smut Smut Smut Draco MasturbatesAfter six months in Azkaban Draco is stuck at a Hogwarts Reconstruction summer program. He's consumed by a certain Golden Girl and we get a view into his explicit masturbation session. E, 1 Chapter, 2,243 Words

New Year's Resolution by sodamnrad: Friendship blooms between Hermione and Draco when he becomes a regular at Full Steam Ahead. T, 1 Chapter, 9,265 Words

One Thousand Ways to Fall in Love by slytherin_prince27: Draco Malfoy has never uttered the words "I love you" to a single woman, but he knows how Hermione Granger takes her coffee and that she can't go a day without devouring a pumpkin scone. E, 20 Chapters, 85,597 Words

Overture by dirtymudblood: When everything is going wrong; he’s there. Lurking in the shadows. Helping her. E, 15 Chapters, 48,690 Words

Potions, Rings & Baby Things by Ceilidhchaos: Hermione Granger-Weasley and Draco Malfoy had worked together for over ten years now, co-running the Being Division of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures for the last 5. The enmity of the first couple years gave way to friendly sparky banter and an enjoyment of each other's company that made them excellent colleagues. In the last couple of years, Draco had even begun to think of her as a friend. In the last few months, he had come to realize that he desperately wanted to snog her senseless and make love to her on top of her desk or on the green couch where he often worked. The primary impediment of course being that she was married to the Weasel. Granger had been amazingly helpful when Tori died the year before last. It had been the catalyst that changed everything. Helping feed Scorpius with a little muggle spoon shaped like an airplane was what had set off Hermione's baby fever. She had said so many times. What will DILF Draco do when a child of her own craving Hermione files for divorce? E, 1 Chapter, 7,649 Words

Presque Toujours Pur by ShayaLonnie: Bellatrix's torture of Hermione uncovers a long-kept secret. The young witch learns her true origins in a story that shows the beginning and end of the Wizarding wars as Hermione learns about her biological father and the blood magic he dabbled in that will control her future. M, 38 Chapters, 174,032 Words

Recompense by quicknotesquim: Since the war, Hermione has hidden away from the world, striving to restore her parent’s health using ever-darker magic. Draco, an ex-con and outcast, spends his nights chasing leads in an attempt to solve a heinous crime. After nearly a decade of dead ends, they meet again, only for their mutual secret to be unearthed — one that changes everything. With any luck, this unlikely pair will put their pasts behind them and discover love is worth the risk. E, WIP

Remain Nameless by HeyJude19: How did it feel? It felt like he was barely holding it together. She, of all people, should shun him. Or yell at him. Curse him. Spit at him. Take out her wand and blast him off the face of the earth. It was crushing guilt and relief and confusion all at once when he looked at Hermione Granger. The monotony of Draco’s daily routine had become both a lifeline and a noose. But this new habit of grabbing coffee with Hermione Granger is quickly becoming a reason to get out of bed and is unfortunately forcing him to re-evaluate his inconsequential existence. Hermione is living her life in fragments, separate pieces scattered about, and she can’t find a way to step back and let the full picture form. Why are morning meetings with Draco Malfoy the only thing that make sense anymore? E, 51 Chapters, 312,286 Words

Revelry by KatsiPerennial: After the end of the War, Hogwarts established a new tradition: weekly vigils to foster unity and honor the fallen. The student body... did not share the same reverence. The teachers called them Remembrance Vigils. The students called them Revels. Swathed in candlelight and surrounded by their drunken classmates, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy, both haunted by the war and struggling to find connection, find themselves isolated from everyone else... except each other. -- UPDATES FRIDAYS -- E, WIP

Royal Blood by Allthelove_Em: A young Hermione Granger is sorted into Slytherin House alongside the King's nephew, Draco Malfoy. There's Gods, Duels, Mermaids, Excalibur, Dragons, and a stupidly clever Hermione. Set Hogwarts years 1-7 and beyond. E, WIP

Secrets and Masks by Emerald_Slytherin: 9 years after the battle of Hogwarts, the war still rages on and everyone is much changed since their days at Hogwarts. Hermione is the most lethal soldier in The Order, spending her days on rescue missions to free captured Muggleborn slaves and fight on the front line. For years, she's been meeting in secret with a spy within Voldemort's ranks to exchange information. But, when she's captured and made prisoner at Malfoy Manor, of all the dark and evil ways she'd envisioned Malfoy would torture her, she never quite imagined anything this horrific.I just wanted to make it abundantly clear that I was originally inspired to write this fic after I read the masterpiece that is Manacled, so I would like to thank SenLinYu for her amazing work!The memory searching aspect of Manacled is what inspired me, and although I have adapted that, (and also made Draco head Death Eater, because... ya know... we all love it when he's Voldemort's right hand man 😅😉), Secrets and Masks will be a very very different fic all together. E, 75 Chapters, 465,571 Words

Soft As It Began by rubber_soul02: The day after his infamous victory at the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry Potter disappears without a trace. When the rest of the world gives up their search, Hermione Granger, an up-and-coming investigative journalist, is determined to do what they couldn’t: find him. After years of searching, she finally stumbles upon a clue that might just lead her to her best friend. She is determined to journey across Europe to solve the mystery and, naturally, write about it along the way. But when her intolerable co-worker Draco Malfoy is also assigned to the case, she must learn to set aside old grudges and accept their dysfunctional partnership in order to bring Harry home again. A slow-burn enemies to lovers fic with mystery, adventure, and our two favorite idiots in love. E, 25 Chapters, 150,680 Words

Tea & Necromancy by saveourskinship: “I’m dead,” she said. It seemed a simple thing. Her friends laughed. But Draco watched her and only her. She blinked. Her friends carried on but she didn’t. Her lips didn’t twitch in response to the morbid, gallowed joke, her eyes didn’t crinkle in nightmare’d amusement. He realised he’d transitioned from observant to staring and looked away. But it prickled at him.Something wasn’t right with Granger. *Stand-alone and complete* M, 7 Chapters, 40,881 Words

Teach me, Draco by Ramelle_Kammae: Hermione Granger didn't orgasm in four months. Draco Malfoy is determined to save her. Mature short story with explicit language. No further warnings. E, 20 Chapters, 85,489 Words

Ten out of Ten by morriganmercy: "On a scale of one to ten, how comfortable would you say you are with me physically?" she asked. "Zero." Hermione's lips pursed in annoyance because she really should have seen that coming. How charming that the extent of his arseholery could still surprise her. In which Hermione is determined to find a loophole to free her from a forced marriage with Draco Malfoy. But with only two weeks until they are legally required to consummate, it would be irresponsible not to prepare for every contingency. E, 16 Chapters, 61,559 Words

Timeless by alexandra_emerson: Draco breaks a time turner and starts jumping around in time (very similar to the premise of the Time Traveler’s Wife). At first when he sees he’s married to Hermione in the future, he’s horrified and fights against it any way he can. But the love he sees in the future is unlike anything he’d ever imagined for himself. Meanwhile, his future self is coming to the past to charm Hermione. When they both meet up in the same time, things get fun. There are also several side-plots and alternate POVs with Harry, Ron, Ginny, Blaise, Theo, Daphne, Astoria, Lucius, and Narcissa contributing to the story. Romance / Angst / Drama. Post-war, not epilogue compliant, happy ending (that the characters have to work very hard for). M, 50 Chapters, 324,528 Words

The Body Count by sodamnrad: The dark side of hook-up culture.Part I: The Body Count - Chapters 1-2 Part II: Ease - Chapters 3-6 E, 6 Chapters, 33,850 Words

The Creature You Know by In_Dreams: While trying to restore her parents' memories, Hermione becomes cursed by a powerful sorcerer. Chased by her past and bound by fate to a former rival turned ally, she must work with Draco Malfoy to navigate the conflicts forcing them apart, in order to learn if there is a chance for them to be together. Veela!Draco. Post-war EWE. M, 24 Chapters, 85,101 Words

The Dark Ones by floresinfer: Hermione never thought that her life will turn out like this. She's broken inside, hurting and suffering by herself but the anger-no, pure rage that she feels towards her 'friends' keeps her going, fueling her constantly. She also can't explain the sudden changes that keep happening to her and it seems not only to her. She's changed and everyone can see it, feel it.She's darker than ever.Draco changed too. He's quieter, smarter and more observant... also obsessed with Hermione. M, 15 Chapters, 90,423 Words

The Darkwood Wand by ThebeMoon: Draco Malfoy is harsh and cold and hated at Hogwarts. And Draco is fine with this. He’s even casting the Vanishing Cabinet spell again, although for a much less nefarious purpose. This time he's using Harmonia Nectere Passus to link his bed with the bed of a willing witch. But something goes horribly wrong, and instead of the buzzy flirt Draco's been secretly meeting, his bed keeps delivering an extremely unamused Hermione Granger. So begins Draco’s travesty of an Eighth Year on probation, where nothing ever goes to plan and good deeds NEVER pay. His Divination classes are a disaster, his mother owls him daily prophecies of doom, a rabid she-weasel stalks him through the castle, and his mad roommate from Durmstrang plots to avenge the Dark Lord. Each day sparks an internal battle between Draco’s calculating Malfoy nature and his reckless Black side. Every night brings Granger back again, wreaking havoc with his body and mind. Draco is convinced he's headed straight back to Azkaban and he’s almost looking forward to the trip. COMPLETE! (FYI: This story is not part of “The Gloriana Set” universe. This is a whole new castle full of crazy.) M, 69 Chapters, 201,107 Words

The Devil She Knows by bellla_writes: It started with humiliation, and ended in a betrayal. Hermione Granger-Weasley had been unhappy in her marriage to Ron for a very long time, but the final straw was broken the night that her husband chose his best friend over his wife. And so Hermione felt no shame when she took the opportunity to indulge in one of her fantasies–a fantasy she wasn’t willing to lose anytime soon. E, 1 Chapter, 3,835 Words

The Eagle's Nest by HeartOfAspen: Hermione's eighth year at Hogwarts is already going to be difficult in the aftermath of the war, but is further thrown into upheaval when Headmistress McGonagall orders a re-sorting of all students to promote inter-house unity. But when the Sorting Hat sends Hermione to Ravenclaw with Draco - and without Harry or Ron - how will she cope? [Epilogue? What epilogue?] Prevalent alchemy. M, 71 Chapters, 292,798 Words

The Fool, the Emperor, and the Hanged Man by ianthewaiting: Ten years after the fall of the Dark Lord, Hermione Granger leads of life of self-imposed obscurity, that is, until the day Headmistress Minerva McGonagall is murdered and a certain 'hero' is responsible. E, 28 Chapters, 226,700 Words

The Right Thing To Do by LovesBitca8: Hermione felt the pounding in her ears again. She would see him for the first time since the Great Hall, gaunt and stricken at the Slytherin table with his mother clutching his arm. She hadn't meant to look for him. Not in the corridors, not beneath the white sheets of the fallen, not on the way to the Chamber of Secrets with Ron, but she was a stupid girl. E, 36 Chapters, 174,911 Words

All the Wrong Things by LovesBitca8: Sequel to "The Right Thing to Do" - Draco's POV. Part 2 of the "Rights and Wrongs" series. E, 24 Chapters, 160,297 Words

The Auction by LovesBitca8: In the wake of the Dark Lord’s triumph over Harry Potter, the defeated must learn their new place. Hermione Granger, former Golden Girl, has been captured and reduced to human chattel. Sold to the highest bidder as the top prize at an auction of Order members and sympathizers, she is thrust into the rabid, waiting hands of the Death Eaters. But despite the horrors of Voldemort’s new world, help—and hope—seem to arise from the most unlikely of places. PART 3 of the RIGHTS AND WRONGS series. E, 41 Chapters, 325,702 Words

The Unbearable Tedium of Romance by smokybaltic: Severus Snape attempts to alleviate the indignity and aggravation of living in a tent with Hermione Granger by throwing his godson into the breach. Sometimes the solution is exponentially worse than the problem. E, 1 Chapter, 4,594 Words

The Wallflower and the Rake by Stein048: Harry Potter Historical Romance AU: "How does what you want benefit me? You want me to give myself to you, in a way that I never wished to give to a man. You ask for so much." "Oh, this won't be just for me," his lips curled into a smirk. "But I can give you everything you need. What you desire. You are free to do as you wish--as long as you come for me."Gentle Readers; Independence comes at a steep price. What happens when the Duke of Wiltshire, notorious rake Draco Malfoy, makes an offer the would-be spinster, Miss Hermione Granger, cannot afford to refuse? Your Ever Observant- Lady Quibbler Alpha/Beta Readers- LaDeeDaa35 / slytherinphoenix713 / CarrieMaxwell / Pia_Bartolini I plan to post chapters bi-weekly. PS- There is the likelihood this will become a series with the following wizards; Harry, Ron, Theo, and Blaise. This is a regency fic, inspired by the Bridgerton series but is original. I have not read nor intend to read the books at this time. Credit to the use of Lady Quibbler, which is inspired by Lady Whistledown. E, WIP

Things We're All Too Young to Know by eevans: Hermione Granger had been asked—and agreed—to do many absurd things since learning she was a witch, usually involving Harry Potter. This long list included, in no particular order, smuggling baby dragons, being placed unconscious at the bottom of a lake surrounded by merpeople, and traveling back in time to fly an escaped convict to safety on the back of a mythical creature. But returning to a Death Eater-controlled Hogwarts pretending to be Daphne Greengrass may have been the most ridiculous yet. --- Slow burn, wartime Dramione. Complete. E, 30 Chapters, 208,527 Words

To Be Himself by RavieSnake: Christmas is a time for family. But Hermione's family is truly horrible. They never approve of her dates and she's decided to try and beat them at their own game. How? By inviting Draco Malfoy to join their holiday with free reign to 'be himself.' But Hermione quickly realizes she doesn't really know Draco at all... T, 7 Chapters, 14,285 Words

Trust Me by smokyquartz: Hermione Granger, a force to be reckoned with and a dedicated Auror, may have met her match on the other side of a manhunt. The partnering of an Ex-Death Eater on the case could mean a fresh start - or destroy it completely. Russian translation: https://ficbook.net/readfic/10910289 E, 25 Chapters, 135,387 Words

unexpected by ambpersand: Hand drifting down to her abdomen, she knew. When she was younger, she’d known that there was something different about her. About her abilities. Her certainty had been palpable, and was only confirmed when Professor McGonagall had shown up on her doorstep with that fateful letter in hand. And now, just over ten years later, she felt that same sense of certainty again. She was pregnant. And it all because she’d gone and had a one night stand with the worst person in the world… Draco Malfoy. E, 13 Chapters, 66,880 Words

Venus in Chains by SyrenGrey: There was not a cell in Hermione’s body that wasn’t caught in the crosshairs of conflict. Half of her ached to retreat from this mortification that stripped away her agency and devolved her into this small, helpless mess of whimpers and cries. The other half, the persuasive half, yearned to remain perfectly still, perfectly enraptured, as her body succumbed to his whims and betrayed all instinct of maintaining dignity while she dangled, bent over Draco Malfoy’s knee. ✴ After discovering her adulterous fiancé in a compromising and oh-so confusing position, Hermione is determined to understand the appeal that led him towards this dark, demented path of deviant urges. On her quest for answers, she runs into none other than Draco Malfoy who is more than willing to teach Hermione a thing or two about the sensual art of surrender. E, WIP

War of Hearts by DarkoftheMoon: Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy hate each other. That much is obvious to everyone at Nott & Cross. They're both up for the same position and agree that whoever loses, quits. Every day Hermione finds herself playing games with her loathsome co-worker. Her goal? To finally see him smile. His? She has absolutely no idea. He hates her, after all. But what happens when the rules change and their game becomes less about hate and more about something else entirely? E, WIP

Thanks to every person who contributed (I hope I’ve mentioned everyone. If not, let me know!):

@jadezdominion @trinabad01 @wickermayne @bookbaby2021 @ursdahlia @pale-shadow-of-a-woman @adidasglitter ddr326 wallflowerapplejuice @every-fandom-ever @onceuponagayship @silver26writes @monaiargancoconutsoy @irisgoldglitter @faeryella atattooedleo

Thank you for commenting on the post (I’m always afraid no one will leave any recs, and I’ll end up looking like a fool lol) and for providing the links to your fav fics! It only took me more than 3.5 h to compile the list and probably would’ve taken twice as long if I’d had to google every title on my own. You’re all incredible!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ❤️❤️💚💚❤️❤️💚💚

If I accidentally skipped anything or you spot any mistakes, let me know in the comments. :)

Happy New Year!!! May it be better than the previous one and full of friendship, love, health, and peace! And, obviously, full of even more great Dramione fics and fanarts!!!

2021 list

2020 list

2019 list

#dramione #Draco Malfoy #Hermione Granger #harry potter fandom #harry potter fic rec #harry potter fanfiction #archive of our own #ao3 #fanfiction #fic rec #2022 #dramioneficrecommendations

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demigoddessqueens · 1 year

Text

kiss like you mean it

A 5+1 fic, old & new faves // also read on ao3

joel

A loneliness lingered in your kisses together. The sense that if he failed it would be the end for you, and he couldn’t live with himself if that ever happened again. Ellie mattered. You mattered. He would damn any that tried to take what this new feeling was away from him. There would not be a sliver of surviving left in him, let alone living, if you were gone. So he kisses back. Time did not solely heal his heart, which is why he kisses you back. And you feel the difference shift within him. It’s not just the cold anger he’s held onto, but an acceptance that you’re both here now.

“Swear to me Joel. That this is the end of it. Nothing and no one will follow us?”

“Yes, I promise.”

”Okay.”

namor

He kissed with purpose. He loved and cared because it was his duty to, but you made him forget that even just for a second. It’s not just “king” or “feathered serpent god” who guards Talokan when he’s with you. Just a man hopelessly devoted to one who holds his heart. It’s always a union that lets you know it’s home. Fingers thread through his silken dark curls as you feel the grip tighten around your waist.

“I need you. I miss you.”

”I’m here.”

alucard

Alucard kisses for redemption. To start anew a life that he thought only belonged to ghosts. Does it atone for what haunts him before, or does it plummet him further into the abyss of desire? When you hold him like this, and kiss him like that, everything disappears. He’s drowning, falling, flying, but all senses are still full of you. He kisses desperately to remind himself of the coil tied to you. A reminder of the edge he danced on before slipping into such dark madness.

“Do I frighten you? Even after all this time?”

”You never did.”

cassidy

Kisses share the joy that you two found in each other. It’s mirth, all kinds of trouble and a cocky smirk. Albeit it comes more from him than you. Cassidy kisses because it’s a good time for you both, and he’s just drawn to you like how mischief is to you two any other day. You had a gut feeling about him since the first day you met, and you never regretted it since. That cocky smile and troublesome gleam in his eye

”Darlin’, how much do you love me? Truly?

“Till high noon, and many more to come.”

arthur morgan

The memories before feel like such a blur. Names and faces that haunt him still. A woman, a young boy, some semblance of a life before he met you. Those faces morphed into yours and now it was your voice that reverberated through his mind. You hadn’t been part of the gang for long, but Arthur was just drawn to you. It how he always was with situations like this. It was a kiss on impulse one afternoon. By chance, you had found the new sketch he kept in his journal. Your breath caught in your throat at how he saw you, all the soft and gentle parts when other gangs weren’t a concern. You felt your heart flutter at the gentle pencil and brush strokes from his thumb at your portrait. From that kiss onward, you knew it was no simple task carrying his heart and giving yours in return.

“What are you thinking about Arthur? You’ve got that far off look in your eye.”

Your hand snaked carefully into his as he drank in the sight of you just as the sun set.

”Just…admirin’ is all, darlin’.”

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kitsune024 · 3 months

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Stucky Fic Recs Part 2 - will add later

Bucky and Steve's Excellent Adventure by blue_beans I Chapters: 48/48 I Completed Post-Avengers: Endgame Bucky Barnes is very suicidal for a good chunk of this, Sentient Infinity Stones, Fix-It fic, Action/Adventure, Time Travel, slow burn

Six months ago, Steve set out on a final mission to return the infinity stones to their proper timelines, and returned a minute later having lived out a life of peace and contentment with Peggy Carter in the past. He died in his sleep a few days later, surrounded by his friends. Or so Bucky assumes. He wouldn't know, he'd been busy being locked up on the Raft while the government decided whether or not to pardon him for the whole Winter Soldier thing. What with the court-mandated therapy and the constant surveillance by alphabet agencies and the crushing weight of his past, he's not sure if giving him a chance at "normal life" is more cruel than the alternative. But he's doing fine. Great, actually, so don't ask. He didn't have a nightmare. Especially not that strangely disturbing one about Steve... *** AKA I wanted to write the reverse time-heist and I'm still salty about Endgame. This is the result.

Seasons of War by eretria I Chapters 11/11 I Completed Friends to Lovers, World War II, war horrors, Dark

Chasing Bucky, always a step behind, Steve remembers the cycle of seasons that took him from the raw and naive young man to the Captain America who led the Howling Commandos into hell and, except for Bucky, out again. As his memories center on Bucky, one question haunts him: Is the Bucky he knew in the war the same one he knew before?

ampersand by kaydeefalls I Chapters 1/1 I one shot World War II, Friends to Lovers, the Winter Soldier started long before Bucky fell from the train

They've been steveandbucky since they were kids, but that ignores the parts of their lives that don't wrap around each other, that never did. (Bucky needs to figure out who he is, just him, with or without Steve.)

In Vain by kireteiru I Chapters 1/1 I one shot James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers(unrequited), Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Endgame, All hurt no comfort, not a fix it :(

"Nothing of the heart remains, Even if we could've stayed, We've been here long enough, Long enough to know it's all in vain. Everything we tried to say, Up until the final day, I guess we said enough, Said enough to know it's all in vain." _ "In Vain", Within Temptation (Resist) A choice was made, and now the world will bear its consequences.

i'm the furthest thing from heaven, but the closest to home by @buckyismybicycle I Chapters: 6/6 I Completed Guardian Angel Bucky, Identity Reveal, Canon Divergence, Memory Loss

When Steve loses Bucky in Kreischberg, he’s lost the only thing left he cares about. He crashes the Valkyrie into the Arctic, ready to be reunited with his love, but instead, he’s saved by an angel. Except this angel isn’t like the ones he’s read about — no, his angel is armed to the teeth and has wings the colour of blood and night. Yet, there’s something eerily familiar about this angel.

Good God, Let Me Give You My Life by @bellefyre I Chapters 6/6 I Completed Bucky/others, One-Sided Relationship, Non-Consensual Touching, rape, Hydra, Steve/Bucky is Endgame

5+1 meme, five people over the decades who fell in love with the Winter Soldier and died because of him and the one person the Winter Soldier loved and lived because of him.

How to Woo the Winter Soldier by @writeonclara I Chapters 6 /6 I Completed funny fic, gift giving, Steve falls for the Winter Soldier before finding out his Identity, Courting, Identity Reveal, Identity Porn, bad ideas

“I think I’m ready to date again,” Steve said. “What,” Natasha said. “What?” Clint said, lowering his binoculars. He blinked at the dumbstruck look on the Captain’s face, then followed his gaze to where he was staring dopily at—at the Winter fucking Soldier. “Steve, no,” Clint groaned. Or: Steve courts the Winter Soldier.

Ready to Comply by @exclamation I Chapters 31/31 I Completed Canon Divergence - Post-CA: The Winter Soldier, Dehumanization, Hurt/Comfort-But Mostly Hurt, Angst, Protective Steve Rogers

The asset's orders at the end of The Winter Soldier weren't to kill Captain America, but to capture him, so that he could be wiped and turned into another asset. The asset has succeeded in that mission, capturing its target and taking him back to the Hydra base. But the Hydra soldiers are dead, captured, or fled, so there is no one there to give the asset new orders. Alone with its captive, the asset has no instructions on how it is meant to act. But the more time it spends with its target, the more old protocols start to assert themselves, like the protocol that when that face is hurt and bleeding, the asset is supposed to clean away the blood.

From Grit to Pearl by @bluesimplicity73 I Chapters 38/38 I Completed Bucky & Rebecca Barnes, Bucky Recovering, Body Horror, BAMF Bucky, BAMF Rebecca Barnes, Angst, AU - Canon Divergence, Hydra

He does not have a name. He has been called many things over the years; a weapon, a ghost, HYDRA’s Fist, the Soldier, and from what they have told him his work has shaped the century. But he does not have a name. His name, like so many other things, has been taken from him, stolen. Forgotten. Until the day it is not, and remembering, he breaks free, killing his handler and making his escape in a desperate bid for freedom. Frightened, lost and hurt, he seeks out the last person in the world he can trust, his baby sister, now an almost eighty-year-old widow, somehow knowing she is the only one who can help him. It is a difficult journey, one filled with pain, tears, and things that should not be possible. But also with recovery and redemption, rebirth and miracles, family and hope. This story is a love letter between Bucky and his sister Rebecca, the world, and eventually his childhood best friend, Steve Rogers, the boy he once loved. But ultimately, it is the love letter Bucky writes to himself, as he reclaims who he once was, discovers who he is now, builds a new life for himself and realizes he might, just might, be as strong, as beautiful, as precious as a pearl.

Bookmark Series

Til the Sun Goes Down by @scyllaya I Part 1 - 2 I Bucky & Loki, Thor & Loki, Kid Loki

Stucky with Fanart

to memory now I can't recall by @etharei | Chapters: 16/16 I Completed Time Travel, World War II, Memory Loss, Identity Porn, Alien Technology The Good Monster by Taste_is_Sweet | Chapters: 2/2 | Completed Canon Divergence, Transformation, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Body Horror, Self-Sacrifice, Self-Harm despite the threatening sky and shuddering earth (they remained) by @praximeter | Chapters: 20/20 | Completed Non-Consensual Body Modification, Canon Divergence, Identity Reveal, Drug Withdrawal, Body Horror, identity Porn, American Sign Language The Second Labor by @aidaronan I Chapters: 18/18 I Completed wartime imagery and violence, pre-serum steve, Alternative Timeline, Psychological Torture, Medical Torture, AU - Canon Divergence

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Ipseity by @skyisgray I Part 1-3 I Completed Dissociative Identity Disorder, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Torture

#stucky fanfiction #steve x bucky #bucky x steve #steve rogers #bucky barnes #ao3 fanfic #fic rec #fanfic rec #stucky #winter soldier au #stucky fanart #fic recs #I ain't gonna put in all the tags in each fic so yall better read the tags some of them are dark #stevebucky #my rec list #stucky fics

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bratshaws · 9 months

Text

through the hourglass 218. brb x oc

a/n: ello. today was a strange yet amazing day. (comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: none uwu

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

/180/181/182/183/184/185/186/187/188/189/190/191/192/193/194/195/196/197/198/199/200/201/202/203/204/205/206/207/208/209

/210/211/212/213/214/215/216/217

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There was a time when Bradley was younger, much,much younger, that his father would place him on his lap while he played the piano. He has no memory of it, obviously, but his mother mentioned it to him many times before.

He stares at the piano, it’s nicks and scratches, keys a bit yellowed because of how long this thing was in their house. Hell,he remembers how bad he wanted it, how much he’d have to pay for it to come with him wherever he went.

He doesn’t regret it.

He sighs, feeling Jolene’s head touching his leg and he looks down to see the pittie looking ahead, only to turn her head up to meet his eyes, “Hey Jojo.” he coos, scratching behind her ears, “You can’t sleep either,huh? Yeah,I know.” he hums, still looking at the piano, “Been a while since I played it.” he muses to himself, rubbing his chin before turning his head back to the staircase.

He gently shut the door to both bedrooms when he came down, so no noise would wake his girls up. Rooster didn’t know what prompted him to do this…but he wanted to, in the middle of the night, he wanted to play something.

His fingers twitched,almost excitedly, at the prospect of touching the ivories again.

The room was wrapped in a soft, serene darkness, with only the gentle glow of the moonlight seeping in through the curtains. It was a quiet moment, one of those rare instances when the world seemed to slow down, allowing Bradley to…relax.

Jolene,ever so loyal, seemed to sense his mood. Her warm, soft eyes looked up at him with understanding as he reminisced about the days of his youth. His father's piano had been a source of both comfort and inspiration, a connection to a time when life was simpler, when he had been just a child with dreams.

With a deep breath, Rooster pushed himself from the door and approached the piano. The wooden bench creaked softly as he settled onto it, making him hum “I gotta fix this.” he says while moving himself a bit, “Feels a bit loose.” His fingers hovered over the keys, feeling the cool smoothness beneath them. He hadn't played in a long time, the last time was a few months ago, with Nikki, and even then, it had been sporadic at best.

But tonight was different. The urge to play, to let his fingers dance across the piano keys and create music, was irresistible. It was as if the instrument held a piece of his soul, a part of his identity that he had temporarily set aside.

With a gentle touch, he pressed a key, and a soft, melancholic note filled the room. He closed his eyes, letting the sound wash over him. It was a simple, haunting melody, one that made him smile.

As he continued to play, his fingers found their way effortlessly across the keyboard, he checked to see if Beatrice was still asleep - Nikki was, considering he checked the phone at least twice - by looking at the bedroom’s door.

Nothing, she must’ve been really tired.

Jolene lay down at his feet, her head resting on her paws as she listened to the sound. She understood that this was a moment of reflection and release for her human, and she didn’t want to leave him alone. She huffs quietly, the back of her neck touching Rooster’s foot as he gently plays.

He smiles to himself, murmuring the lyrics as he does so, he hoped that Bea wouldn’t be mad at him for playing so late…it’d be obvious she wasn’t, or else she or Nikki would voice it…loudly, if it was his daughter.

The truth was that Bradley had to relieve his mind. He had to stop for a second and breathe, because these past days were very wild and crazy and terrifying. The twins were still in the NICU and Beatrice was getting better…but it was still worrying.

Bradley had always been the type to keep his emotions close to his chest, he arches his brows with a ‘ain’t that the truth’ as those words come into his brain. But the weight of their situation had been pressing on him. The hospital visits, the sleepless nights, the constant worry for Beatrice and their newborns - it was all taking a toll on him.

And while they were able to sleep,every second that passed made them fearful of something happening. He hoped it wouldn’t - he knew it wouldn’t - but he couldn’t help it.

The piano became his refuge, a place where he could let his guard down and pour his feelings into the music. He played with a tenderness that was reserved only for these solitary moments, each note a whisper that helped him calm down.

Jolen remained by his side, her presence a source of comfort. Sometimes she’d check back on the staircase to see if Beatrice was there only to lie back down and sigh in relief.

As Bradley continued to play, his mind drifted to Beatrice. He couldn't help but worry about her. She was a strong and resilient woman, but the toll of pregnancy and childbirth had been immense. And in such a short time too.

He knew she was putting on a brave face, just as he was, but he also knew that sometimes they both needed moments like these - moments of quiet reflection and escape. His fingers moved across the keys, the music shifting from melancholy to a more hopeful tune…only to stop when he heard the sound of Nicole's gentle crying coming from the app on his phone.

He quickly unlocked the screen, ignoring the cheerful sleeping characters that surrounded the black and white view of his daughter. Nicole’s eyes shone in the night, then looked directly at the camera, her little hands by her sides…how did she know–? Nevermind. He just watched her for a few seconds to make sure she was alright.

The piano notes hung in the air, slowly fading away as Bradley paused to check on Nicole. His fingers rested on the keys, his attention fully focused on the tiny screen of his phone. In the soft glow of the screen, he could see his daughter's face, looking around.

Soon enough, two huge bodies appeared on each side of the crib, Eleanor and Jack were sniffing the gates while Nicole pulled herself into a sitting position, holding on the bars for support, wobbling a bit until she was standing up. It was very cute…if she wasn’t suddenly trying to climb the crib.

He almost dropped his phone when he saw it, quickly rushing up the stairs to her nursery. As Bradley rushed up the stairs to Nicole's nursery, his heart pounded with pure panic. He had seen Nicole's determination before, but watching her attempt to climb her crib was both surprising and terrifying.

When he entered the nursery, he found Nicole giggling as she clung to the crib bars. Her chubby little hands gripped the slats, and she had managed to get one foot up, clearly attempting to hoist herself over.

“No,no no! Nikki!” he whisper shouts, approaching the crib, his heart was about to leap out of his chest. Nicole looked up at him, her hair was getting…a lot like his, it was a lot wavier than normal, and it was all spiked up because of her sleep, “Baby girl?? What are you doing? Are you trying to kill me?”

“Outie!”

“No,no, no outie.” he says, picking her up and placing her back inside the crib, making sure she was far from the slats. Nicole just blinked at him, pointing to the outside, ��No, no missy. If you want out, just…wait? Why are you in such a hurry anyway?? You are just eight months old, acting like you are about to be late for your job or something.”

He muttered the last part, keeping his eyes on Nicole as she remains, seated, looking up at him, “Don’t you give me that look.” and what do you know, she did give him that look. ‘Don’t you dare, those green eyes are dangerous. Your mom has me around her finger and now you??”

As Bradley gently scolded Nicole for her escape attempt, she gazed up at him with those big, innocent green eyes that had already captured his heart. Her response, or perhaps her lack of response, only made him chuckle.

"You're a tough negotiator, you know that?" Bradley teased her, his finger gently poking her tiny nose. Nicole responded with a giggle, her chubby cheeks dimpling with delight.

He carefully adjusted her position in the crib, making sure she was safe and comfortable. He couldn't help but marvel at how much she had grown in just eight months. She was becoming more and more aware of her surroundings, more curious about the world.

"Alright, my little adventurer," he said, leaning down to place a soft kiss on her forehead. "Let's try to get some more sleep, okay? Mommy and Daddy need it too."

Slap.

One tiny chubby hand landed on his lips, then she babbled, quickly, while trying to stand up, “Alright, okay,” he tries his best to hold her down but she just held onto his face and pushed his lips forward, “Mffff Nikki!” and now she was trying to climb his shoulder.

No,she did climb his shoulder and all he could do was hold her tiny back to keep her steady as he sighed, “Alright,alright,fine.” she looked like a little potato sack, sprawled on his arm, “Since you can’t sleep and I can’t sleep,we better figure something to do.”

Bradley descended the stairs, Nicole securely cradled in his arms, her curious eyes darting around as if trying to take in every detail of the house. Jolene followed close behind, her tail wagging in anticipation with her pups behind her, Eleanor immediately rushed to the front door, pressing her nose to the glass to look at the outside.

As Bradley reached the ground floor, he considered his options. It was the middle of the night, and both he and Nicole were wide awake. He couldn't simply take her on a stroll right now. And with Nicole's newfound energy, he knew they needed to find a way to keep her entertained.

Once they reached the living room, Bradley gently set Nicole down on the couch and propped his hands on his hips as he thought about the options. She sat there, her big green eyes still wide with curiosity, her little hands reaching out to grab at the fabric of the couch,plucking at the loose strings.

Just like Bea does.

"You're quite the explorer, aren't you?" he mused, kneeling down in front of her. "Well, since you're up, how about a little piano lesson?” he looks back to where the piano was, “But quietly,” he whispers, placing a hand on his lips, a motion that Nikki mimicked immediately, “Because we don’t want to wake mama.”

“Mama sleep.” she replies, still plucking the fabric with her tiny fingers. “Oopsie.”

With that, Bradley carried Nicole over to the piano, her eyes lighting up with interest as he gently sat her on his lap. He positioned her tiny hands over the keys, not pressing them down yet, "Now, Nikki," he began, his voice warm and soft, "let's make some music together. You see these keys? Each one makes a different sound. It's like magic."

He pressed a key, a soft, gentle note filling the room. Nicole watched with fascination, her chubby fingers reaching out to touch another key. A different note chimed, and her face lit up with wonder.

Nicole's eyes widened in delight as she watched her dad demonstrate how to play a soft note. She looked at him with rapt attention, her tiny face a picture of curiosity and enthusiasm.

But, well, she was still just a baby. Her enthusiasm got the better of her, and before Bradley could react, her chubby little hand came crashing down on the keys with a loud clang. Jolene's tail, which had been wagging in excitement, suddenly dropped, Jack jumped up in surprise and Eleanor let out a low growl.

Bradley winced, but he quickly realized that he needed to stay calm. He didn't want Nicole to associate the piano with something negative nor did he want to wake Beatrice up. He gently held her hand and whispered, "It's okay, Nikki. That was just a little loud. Let's try to make softer music, alright?"

He guided her hand to press a key again, this time applying just the gentlest touch. The result was a soft, melodic note that seemed to hang in the air like a delicate whisper. Nicole's face lit up once more, and she let out a happy gurgle of approval.

"That's it, baby girl," Bradley encouraged her with a smile. "You're doing great. Now, let's try another one."

Bradley carefully guided Nicole's tiny hands, showing her how to create soft melodies. She watched him intently, her chubby fingers exploring the keys with fascination.

Occasionally, there were more unintentional loud clangs that made Jolene twitch, but Bradley took them in stride, always turning them into moments of learning…besides,Beatrice was still asleep in their bedroom so there was no problem.

As they played together, Bradley couldn't help but feel a deep sense of joy and nostalgia…and…something else he couldn’t say. Pride? Perhaps? He wondered if that’s how his father felt with him, hell if that’s what it was like he wouldn’t complain.

“...your grandparents would’ve loved you.” he mutters on her tiny head, soft hair touching his chin, “Just like uncle Mav does.”

As the night wore on, the music continued to fill the room, a blend of soft notes and baby giggles. One that was currently being admired by Beatrice,who was quietly watching the two from the door frame, smiling sweetly.

To be fair, she woke just a few minutes ago because she needed to use the bathroom and she heard the sound of the piano. Neither of them saw her there, in fact, not even the dogs seemed to notice her presence.

Her gaze lingered on the sight of Bradley and Nicole, their heads bent close together over the piano keys. The room was filled with the delicate sound of the piano, punctuated by Nicole's occasional giggles and the soft guidance of her father's voice. It was a scene of pure love and connection, one that Beatrice knew she would treasure forever.

Beatrice had always known that Bradley would make an incredible father, but seeing him in this moment with their daughter brought tears of joy to her eyes. She was struck by the tenderness in his expression, the way he patiently guided Nicole's tiny hands, and the pride that shone in his eyes when she hit the right note.

As for Nicole, she seemed completely enthralled by the piano. Her chubby fingers danced across the keys, sometimes creating a beautiful, soft melody, and other times producing a comical cacophony of sound. But each note, no matter how sweet or discordant, was a testament to her curiosity and her budding love for music.

With a contented sigh, Beatrice decided not to interrupt the father-daughter duet. She leaned against the doorframe, her heart overflowing with love for her family…until Eleanor saw her and her long tail started thwapping against the wall repeatedly.

Beatrice, who had been enjoying this heartwarming scene in the shadows, couldn't suppress a chuckle when Eleanor's tail gave away her presence. Her smile widened, and she made her way into the room, careful not to disturb the musical moment that Bradley and Nicole were sharing.

Bradley, still engrossed in the piano lesson, didn't immediately notice Beatrice's arrival. Nicole, on the other hand, turned her head when she heard the soft chuckle and saw her mother approaching. With a wide, few toothed grin, she reached out her tiny arms, clearly wanting to be held.

Beatrice didn't need a second invitation. She carefully walked closer and stood behind her husband "You're quite the little musician, aren't you?" Beatrice cooed to Nicole, her heart swelling with love. "And you have the best teacher." She cast a loving gaze at Bradley, who finally looked up from the piano keys.

A warm smile spread across Bradley's face when he saw Beatrice there He placed his hands on the piano keys, creating a soft and melodious outro to their impromptu concert. The last notes hung in the air for a few seconds "Hey," Bradley greeted them, his voice a gentle caress. "Sorry,did we wake you?"

Beatrice shook her head, her eyes filled with affection as she leaned close, hugging Rooster from behind "You didn’t, but I did hear the little symphony here and had to check." she whispers, kissing his cheek, “You okay?”

“Mm? Yeah,I’m fine…” he pauses, “Thinking a bit.”

Beatrice smiled softly, her arms wrapped around Bradley as she rested her head against his shoulder. "Thinking about what?" she inquired gently, her fingers tracing comforting patterns on his back.

Bradley glanced down at Nicole, who was now happily resting against his chest, her little hand clutching her father’s thumb. His fingers absently brushed a lock of hair from Nicole's forehead as he spoke. "Just... everything, you know? About us, about Nicole, about our families." He sighed softly. "I was thinking about my parents, Bea. Just…about everything.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Beatrice's heart ached with understanding,she pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, "They are proud of you,” she whispers, “They truly are.”

Bradley nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, I like to think that too." He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Beatrice's lips, a sweet and tender connection amidst the quiet of the night. “We’re doing our best.”

“We are.”

He sighs, “...and we both should sleep.”

"You're right," she murmured against his lips, sharing one more lingering kiss. She then gently took Nicole from Bradley's arms, cradling their daughter close. "Come on, my little musician," she cooed to Nicole, "It's time to go back to sleep."

Nicole yawned widely, her tiny eyes blinking sleepily as if to agree with her mother. Beatrice carried her upstairs but paused when she noticed Rooster wasn’t moving, in fact he was still looking at the piano, “Roos?’ he snaps his head in her direction, ‘You coming?”

Bradley stood from the piano bench and then slowly turned his head back outside, narrowing his eyes…he was sure he saw someone. “...yeah, gorgeous.” he says with a small smile, backing away from the window “I’m coming.”

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x named reader #tgm oc #tgm fic #tgm fanfiction

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rabbit-reveries · 2 years

Text

— 𝑷eace

“All these people think love's for show

But I would die for you in secret

The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me

Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?”

It seems hard to believe it now, but there were days before the war when you and Aemond were friends. The best of friends. When was it that he became a Green and you became a Black? you wonder. Against your best judgment and your parents' wishes, you are now lovers in secret.

Day after day, it gets harder and harder to maintain your relationship. You love Aemond, but being with him is betraying your family and yourself. Navigating this conflict and this connection is exhausting. All you've ever wanted was peace. — A story, from how it came to be to how it ended.

Pairing: Aemond x Targaryen!Reader

Tags: Childhood Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Angst, Hurt and Comfort, Multichapter Fic.

Warnings: None in this chapter

Word Count: 2.6k

Chapter 1 : Bloom Later

You remember being a young girl in your grandsire's court; eyes seemed to follow you everywhere you went. It felt like you could not afford to ever make a mistake. You could not. As Rhaenyra Targaryen's eldest child - and a girl, no less - there were whispers about your every move. "There goes she, the 'strong' princess," they would say when they thought you couldn't hear. You would wonder what they'd meant by that but would never find anyone willing to explain. You did not consider yourself particularly strong, much more interested in books and playing in the gardens than roughhousing with the boys and their weapons.

You remember Aemond as a young boy, so bright and shy, used to being cast aside for Aegon to the point he went about as a ghost haunting his own home. You remember how alive he was when you would sit with him in the library and listen to his rambles about old Valyria and dragons, though. He'd chase after you in the Red Keep's halls, and when no one else was around, he'd let you braid and weave flowers through his silver-blonde hair. "White carnations," you'd say, incorporating the blossoms to the do, and he'd nod as if he had any idea of what it meant. Once, his mother caught you alone in the garden maze with white camellia crowns, and you remember he never again allowed you to play with his hair. Alicent hated you and your siblings: you could tell, even at a young age.

You remember your brothers taunting Aemond about being dragon-less. You remember being ten years old when your mother tried to make amends with the Queen by offering to wed you to Aegon, then five and ten. Your only option was to accept such a fate, but you were terrified of the boy and ran crying to your best friend. You remember well how he held your hands and promised you he'd become a great man, an even greater dragon rider, and he'd wed you himself. He'd protect you from his brother, he promised. Copying what he'd read in books, you two used the small dagger he kept attached to the hip to cut your bottom lips and perform a makeshift wedding ceremony in the maze. Orange blossoms and white roses, you remember.

Then, not many days later, dark crimson and marigolds. You were a bastard, you learned, and your true father was dead in a fire, as was your aunt Laena. You were only allowed to grieve publicly for one of them, crying in your mother's lap while she made up stories about you and your aunt being close. The same night of the funeral, orange lily, yellow hyacinth, and so many geraniums.

You were there to see Aemond lose his eye by your brother's hand. The hate in his face when he questioned your lineage; when he held up a rock to attack Jace; when he was down bleeding and found you there, paralyzed. The guards you called tried to help him stand while you did nothing but stare. "I promised you I'd protect you from my brother. Why did you not protect me from yours?" he asked. You didn't know how to answer. You remember Aemond so well, but that moment never fit in with the rest of the puzzle pieces that formed his image in your head. You remember Aemond very well, and he was never the same.

Back to the Red Keep after six years, you catch yourself looking for silver-blonde hair everywhere. Every time you think you might have seen him, you didn't, and when you do see him, he feels like someone else. Aemond is impossibly taller, sharper, and alien. You are right in front of him; he could be anywhere else. You struggle to meet his eye, and it's like you are the ghost this time, haunting a home you don't belong to. He stares at you in silence.

"Aemond, say hello to princess Y/N." Alicent nudges him, stern as you remember.

"Hello, niece."

His tone is mocking and dry of emotion. You feel stupid for expecting some warm welcome from your former best friend after half a decade gone. Did you... Did you perhaps imagine all of your moments together? The afternoons spent reading to him, all the flowers he brought you without knowing the meaning, only because he knew you'd like them... You remember it all, so why now is he like this...? Are you really dead to him? You force yourself to snap out of it and present him with a smile.

Niceties done, your mother makes up an excuse to retire. You give them a sorry grin as if it is truly unfortunate that you have to take your leave of their presence, and Alicent mirrors you the best she can. Both of you know every second of the exchange was torture, but it is the fortune of women to pretend. You used to wonder why but realized it is easier to accept and bear it than to spend your time moaning and questioning. Before you turn to the door, a hand catches your arm, and you half expect it to be Aemond's. Instead, you find Helaena, who lets go of you as if your skin is poison.

"Sorry." she says and bites her lip like she really is "I wondered if we could take a stroll around the garden together. Would you accompany me?"

You sneak a look at Alicent, who stares at her daughter like she's gone mad. You figure that isn't too foreign to Helaena since she doesn't even react to it.

"Yes, of course."

"Thank you." she all but beams and takes your arm.

Helaena is quite different from what you remember, and at the same time, she hasn't changed a thing. She is a year younger than you, barely five and ten, with twin children of her own, and by her big eyes, you can tell she's still very much a child herself. In the gardens, she tells you about different types of bugs and encourages you to hold the insects in your hand. In fear of insulting her, you nod along and swallow your disgust when she places a centipede in your palm.

"Now that I look at it, it isn't so frightening..." you muse.

Helaena seems thrilled to hear. "It's not frightening at all! It's quite fascinating, actually, but not many are willing to appreciate the little things." she says. "I knew you would, though."

You two were good friends once, weren't you? When you were little, you used to play with dolls together, creating all sorts of stories. Sometimes she would gather a handful of bugs, line them up and pretend you two were their Septas. She'd spend hours telling you about insect trivia, and you'd teach her about flowers. White rosebuds and iris. You grin at her and leave the centipede on the leaf of a nearby bush.

"I missed you, you know." she says "Being alone with my brothers... Aemond pays me company sometimes, but he mostly spends his day training and riding Vhagar. Aegon... I thought maybe he'd be kinder to me once we were married, but that's my fault for being foolish."

Your heart aches. You can't begin to imagine how lonely it must have felt. Helaena sent you a raven when you had just gotten to Dragonstone, but you were mad at Aemond and so hurt that you never replied. You reach to take her hand.

"I missed you too."

Helaena looks up at you, smiling. She'd never been missed before. "You did? I did not think you would."

"I did! Dragonstone was nice, and I love my brothers, but I missed having a girlfriend. And I missed you, specifically." it's true. It's a shame you let your anger towards her brother nip your friendship.

The blonde is surprised by your confession, pleasantly so. "I figured you'd miss Aemond since you were always so close... I thought there was no space for me."

"Nonsense." You pull her into a hug, but she doesn't seem very used to it, so you settle for holding her hands. You two continue walking, arm in arm. You really did miss her.

"He missed you too." she says after a moment of silence. You immediately know who she's talking about, although you pretend not to. You say nothing. "The book you left about the language of the flowers, he took it. He must've read it a thousand times."

"It's good that Aemond tried to learn new things." you say, eyes on the birds in the sky.

"He did it because it reminded him of you."

"And yet it seems that he has forgotten. You were there, you saw how he ignored me." You are hurt but try to appear absentminded out of pride. You expected him to hug you and spin you off the ground - or to acknowledge your presence, at the very least.

"He didn't ignore you. He's just bad with emotions." his sister reassures. You remember him having a hard time expressing himself when he was a boy, but he'd always find a way to overcome his limitations somehow when it came to you. "I'm sure if you went to him..."

You shake your head "Absolutely not. He should come to me."

Helaena tries to convince you some more, but you are stubborn. Not much time passes before a servant calls the two of you to supper with the King.

It is your first time seeing your grandsire in a long time. He looks like a feeble whisper of the man you remember. Shaken, you search your mother's hand, but she isn't sitting close to you, and you grab the closet person's instead. With shock, you realize it is Aemond's. He says nothing, and you say nothing. You let go of him, trying to not let it show how his touch burns your skin. Under the table, you flex your hand, trying to get rid of the feeling.

Aegon talks to you briefly, an insulting comment you try hard not to understand. He soon turns his attention to Baela and Rhaena, probably to enrage your brothers. Unfortunately, he's just as you remembered.

Tension is high and rising. Jace gets up from the table causing your heart to speed up, anticipating a fight. Thankfully, the King intervenes and makes a toast, then your mother and the Queen follow. You relax in your chair, thinking you might go to sleep regarding the day to have been peaceful. You only ever wanted peace. Aegon toasts, though you try not to pay attention, and then Helaena.

"To Baela and Rhaena, they will be married soon! It isn't so bad, mostly he just ignores you. Except sometimes when he's drunk. And to Y/N, who will be wed before any of us knows it."

She sits down again, and you send her a quizzical look. What did she mean by that? You were hardly an old maid, and in no hurry to marry.

"Thank you, aunt, for the lovely wishes." you say when it comes to your turn to pay a tribute. "I wish to toast to my grandsire, King Viserys, who kept the realm stable for decades and made his name as The Peaceful. I only wish to be half the ruler you are."

They clap and get back to eating. You notice Jace asking Helaena for a dance, a bit of confusion in your frown. He was never that interested in her, not even when you were children. "Well," you think "as long as it's all in good fun". Turning back to watch them dance, you see they seem to be enjoying themselves. You sigh in relief. All the conflict you were exposed to growing up made your anxiety high in the face of stress. Unfortunately, the same can't be said about other members of your family. Your brothers, for example, seem to have a knack for provoking others.

Half the feast goes by with the cheeriest tone the Targeryans are capable of - meaning you are able to chat with the other ladies, and neither your mother nor your brothers are being threatened or threatening anyone. You look up from your plate to see your grandsire coughing and wailing in pain. In a matter of seconds, the Queen orders the guards to take him to his quarters. She seems worried but not unused to it.

All of a sudden the meal in front of you does not seem so appetizing. You want to excuse yourself, but it'd be rude to leave the table when there is still food being served, and your mother looks like she needs you there more than ever. As the eldest, you feel like you have no place to complain. Sat in front of you, you hear Luke's giggle, and realize a roasted pig has been set on the table, right in front of Aemond. No, not the Pink Dread again. You are so tired. "Fuck." you mutter under your breath.

You think Aemond was only waiting for your cue to get up, his eye set on you as he raises his goblet. He turns to Luke and Jace, a viper ready to strike. "Final tribute. To the health of my niece and nephews: Y/N, Jace, Luke, and Joffrey. Each of them talented, wise... Strong. Let us drain our cups to these four Strong princes and princess."

He drinks, a poisonous grin on his lips. You are insulted, you are betrayed. You expected him to at least keep it civil.

"I dare you to say that again." Jace challenges. From what you know of your brother, he's about ready to throw a punch.

"Why? 'Twas only a compliment."

"You know perfectly well it was not." you accuse, tears of anger in your eyes.

"Do you not think yourself Strong, my lady?" you hear Aemond ask, that grin directed at you. Jace punches him straight in the jaw, and you are sure that if he hadn't, you would. Luke gets up from his seat to help, you think, but Aegon stops him. You, in turn, get up to push him off your brother. A guard grabs you by the waist and lifts you off the ground.

"Get off me!" you squeal, but he only lets you go when you are on the other side of the room, painting and held off from jumping on either of the silver-haired brothers. Aemond says something else, you didn't quite hear it, but it's enough to have you fighting the hold of the guard.

To your surprise, your mother's husband, Daemon, gets involved. "Wait, wait!" he says, and you obey. Your mother then orders you and your siblings to head to your quarters. Alicent's boys are free to do as they please, you see. With the corner of your eye, you catch Helaena crouched in a corner of the dining room.

You go back fuming to your chamber. Gods, all you want is to have peace! Is that so hard? Is it such a sin to be tired of deaths and bloodshed? You begin to tug at the strings holding your dress together, trying to be set free from the heavy fabrics without the help of your handmaiden, when you hear a loud knock on the door. Outside, a vase of forget-me-nots and a note.

You immediately know what it means. Dress half undone and half a mind made to throw the vase out of the window, you bring the items inside. Forget-me-nots, you can't believe it. Does he think he can treat you in whatever way he wants and then send you flowers? You're unsure what to make of the mixed signals. You open the note, if only in hopes of better understanding what is happening. It read:

“Meet me in the maze at the hour of the owl.

- A”

#hotd #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond #aemond targaryen #bunnie writes #not hp

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fika-drw · 1 year

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Snarry Fairy Tale AU Rec List [ 1 ]

If you didn't already know, I LOVE Fairy Tale AU. I gobble them like there is no tomorrow. I basically read all of the fics under 'Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale' and somehow still find more when I thought there isn't more which is a welcome surprise for sure. I wouldn't say this is a rec list per se since this is basically me just dumping all the Fairy Tale AU fics that I had read into here. If you had any Fairy Tale AU fics that aren't included here, please link them in the comment 😊

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Red as Blood by Likelightinglass

Rating: Mature || Words: 9,942 || TW: Mild Gore

Summary: Once upon a time there was a strange and magical land. One filled with ordinary villages and ordinary people, a dark and forbidding Forest, and a castle shrouded in mist. In the castle lived an Evil King, whose court of Death Eaters did his evil bidding. And there was a curse. There was a curse, and a magic mirror, and a boy as white as snow. But first, there was a Huntsman.

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Love, Luck, and Good Looks by ladyofsilverdawn

Rating: Explicit || Words: 11,675

Summary: For hundreds of years, the Prince family has suffered from a never-ending secret: the Grimm Curse, which has stolen the beauty and luck of countless Prince descendants. The only way Snape can, once and for all, break the ancient spell is to locate his soulmate and share with them a true-love kiss. Of course, Harry has to help when he finds out.

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A Knight in Shining Armour by Alphinss

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences || Words: 1,782

Summary: Tumblr Prompt: The strongest warlock in the land uses his powers to kidnap the princess. Most people believe the is in love with her. But he’s actually in love with the knight who always comes to save her. Snarry Version...

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Something Ever After by abstractconcept

Rating: Mature || Words: 17,011

Summary: Harry just wanted his happy ending. Instead, he’s stuck with a sparkly tiara and glass shoes, and the entire world seems to have gone mad.

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Dirty Harry by Lomonaaeren

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences || Words: 8,910

Summary: Harry was cursed to die at birth. His parents managed to hold back part of the spell, but it means that Harry is now cursed to be seen by everyone around him as a dirty servant. Only true love’s kiss can break the curse, but how can that ever happen when Harry disgusts everyone he meets?

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The Interrupted Kiss: A Fairy Tale by emynn

Rating: Explicit || Words: 24,291

Summary: Once upon a time, Severus Snape shared a kiss with Harry Potter. Then Harry had disappeared after killing the Dark Lord, leaving Severus the reluctant darling of the Wizarding world. When Dumbledore insists on throwing a ball in Severus’s honour, Severus is convinced the world has gone completely mad. But when he comes across an ashy-faced young man whose half-answers about his identity haunt his every thought, Severus realizes that a ball might be the least of his worries.

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The Fall of Spring by namara_ashina

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences || Words: 1,847

Summary: How many times will Spring visit the underworld before becoming trapped?

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The Nutcracker's Delight by perverse_idyll, rinsbane

Rating: Explicit || Words: 17,119

Summary: Severus Snape meets the Nutcracker.

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Jester King by Vera

Rating: Mature || Words: 8,793

Summary: In a small kingdom, blood is spilled, a king flees, and a legend is forged. AU.

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Sleeping Beauty by starcrossedgirl

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences || Words: 3,137

Summary: In which the residents of Hogwarts are befallen by a mysterious affliction and Snape has to save the day (and Potter). Again.

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#rec list #snarry #severusxharry #harry x snape #harry x severus #snape x harry #harry potter #severus snape

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antihero-writings · 10 days

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Waving Through the Veil (Ch 1)

Fandom: Dear Evan Hansen (Book and Musical)

Summary: Evan is haunted by Connor. No, literally haunted. His ghost shows up after hearing Evan's lie about the Orchard, and Evan can actually see him. But, as weird as this situation is, maybe this is how they can become real friends after all.

Note: The one thing I’ve always wanted to see from this franchise, ever since first watching the musical, but even more so after reading the book, is the ghost of Connor being able to have a relationship with Evan. So...I decided to write it! This is written in the style of the book, and will probably mostly follow the book, (I even include some passages from it), but I will probably draw from the musical at times too, depending on what portrayal of something I like best. For those of you who have read the book, the fic begins in the middle of the first scene of chapter 9. I hope you enjoy!! If you do, please don't hesitate to leave a comment to let me know!! It's your comments that fics like this going <3

Chapter 1: All we See Are Ghosts

I didn't bother turning the light on as I flopped down on the couch with the signature groan of a man who’s hit rock bottom. Well maybe not rockbottom, but sediment bottom at least. I think we learned about that in science class; it’s where the fossils are get stuck…That’s pretty much how I feel at the moment.

I'm not sure why I keep reporting back to Jared after every new disaster. I never feel better after our chats. Jared has a way of highlighting my errors so they seem even worse than I first realized.

But I'm so lost right now, sitting alone on the couch in my dark living room. Jared is the only person in the entire world who has even the slightest appreciation for where I am.

I bring Jared up to speed with what happened at the Murphys. We end up texting for a while, and, at this point, my stomach is still churning from the conversation, especially the prospect of making fake emails. Fake emails...to continue the lie I didn't intend to start.

What is wrong with me? Seriously. Why do I keep fooling myself into thinking that the worst that could happen has already happened? Things always get worse. It's guaranteed. That's how life works. You're born and you keep getting older and grayer and sicker, and no matter what effort you make to reverse the process, you die. Every single time To repeat: worse, worse, worse, and then death. I have a long way to go before the worst. This is only the beginning.

And these emails...I'd be giving them what they want—what they need. I'd be helping them.

It's tempting. It really is. But it's also...sick? I can't keep doing this, deceiving these poor people. I'm not cut out for it.

At one point tonight it felt like I was sweating from my eyes—that's how anxious I was. Had I perspired another drop, I might have mummified. I can't go on like this. I'm all drained out.

I turn my phone over so it's facedown. The light from the screen waves over my cast. The memory of the story I conjured up for the Murphys hits me anew. They were talking about the orchard, and I guess the way they were talking about it made me think of Ellison Park. And I can no longer think of Ellison Park without thinking of the tree, and my fall. Connor wasn’t there that day, of course. But I guess...he could've been. when I was telling the story…it was almost like he was. Suddenly thinking of him being there to come get me…everything felt okay. Or at least not not okay. And 'not okay' is how I usually feel.

I’m considering going up to my room when I hear a voice speak:

“So you took my advice after all. It was a nice story, I’ll give you that. No racist-punching, but better than the truth at least.”

I fall off the couch and let out a scream that I’ll admit isn’t very manly.

I realize I probably should have turned on said light, because if I had, I might have noticed someone in the room. And that would have been scary, yes, but probably less scary than simply hearing a disembodied voice suddenly talking to me.

I’ve prepared—well, not so much prepared as worried, which masquerades remarkably well as preparation—for people breaking into my house longer than I’ve worried about the Murphys. Though, to be fair, I expected them to come with knives and/or guns and threats...not talking about advice and punching racists. (The people breaking in, not the Murphys).

The living room isn’t that far from the kitchen, I probably should be going for a knife. Instead I just try to scramble away on the couch and don’t make much distance.

“Who-Who are you?!” I demand, (or, at least, I try to demand, but it sounds more like a squeal), “Why are you in my house?!”

The perp makes a noise like a scoff. “So you can hear me. I thought you might have seen me the other day but I—“ He stops himself.

I stop in my scrambling too, because it’s starting to hit me, like spice that takes a second to set your mouth on fire.

I know that voice. It isn’t the voice of a strange burglar or serial killer—or at least, I don’t think he is but I guess I can’t rule it out, because it’s—

It’s a voice that can’t be speaking to me right now. Literally can't.

“Still,” He’s not disembodied after all, because his shadow walks over to the shelf. Despite the realization, or maybe because of it, I resume my scrambling, finally making it off the couch and onto my feet, (not without falling over first). “That’s some psychotic bullshit you barfed up. One moment you’re writing some creepy note about my sister, trying to make everyone to think I’m crazy, next thing I know you have dinner with my family, talking shit about how we were friends, telling stories about how we went to the orchard together. I’ve never been very good at math, tell me,” I can’t really see him but something tells me he’s turning to me with those blue death rays, “how does that add up?”

Somehow in my scrambling I’ve made it to the light switch, and my fingers clutch it like its a lifesaver thrown out to my pitifully struggling body at sea.

I’m not quite sure I wouldn’t rather drown.

I flick my finger, turning on the light.

I already knew I’d regret it before I turned it on, and, when I did, the regret hit me instantly and intensely, like the spice finally kicking in.

Standing there in his thick boots, and ripped jeans, and long, messy hair, and eyes that analyze my soul is Connor Murphy.

I cover my mouth, breath gaining about ten pounds, heart gaining a hundred, but still running anyways.

“Holy—Holy shit.” I say into my hand. “Holy fuck.”

Connor smirks. “At least someone has the decency to react.”

“You’re—but you—You’re alive?! You’ve been alive this whole time?!”

His eyes darken, dart away. “Not alive, no.”

“Well w-what else could you be?!” I stutter, reaching my tremoring hand into my pocket for my meds, my Ativen—maybe I’ll find my sanity in there if I dig far enough. He’s walking towards me and my heartbeat has gone past the hundred mile-per-hour mark to the speed of light. “I mean, dead people don’t just show up in people’s houses—!”

He leans forward and swipes his hand at me, and I tense, thinking he’s going to knock the pills out of my hand, but instead his fingers go right through me.

I let myself look up at him, finally understanding.

Up at the kid who I always tried to avoid. The kid whose sister I have a crush on. The kid who pushed me at lunch the other day. At the kid who took my letter in the computer lab. The kid I was terrified would ruin my life with that letter (well, more ruined than it already is). The kid who I'm pretending was my best friend. The kid who killed himself.

At Connor Murphy’s ghost.

“Excuse me for a moment.”

The pills scatter on the couch before I have a chance to attempt to get even one down, and I scramble to the bathroom to empty what little of Cynthia’s dinner I actually ate into the toilet.

In between heaves I try to think, to wrap my brain around this, to just have a second to breathe, not really able to do or have any of the above.

Step one: Connor Murphy steals my letter. The letter I wrote to myself. One that was more honest than it strictly should have been.

Step two: Connor Murphy kills himself.

Step three: Connor Murphy’s parents think my letter is his suicide note.

Step four: I can’t bring myself to tell the truth, so I end up going to the wake, and going to dinner at the Murphys’ house, and fabricating some crazy story about us having a picturesque friendship, and planning on making secret emails—

Step five: Connor Murphy’s ghost appears to me in my room.

Like an actual ghost. Yesterday I didn’t believe those existed. I think my mom does, and I always liked watching documentaries about haunted houses. But what I like about the documentaries is they often include a scientific explanation.

And aren’t ghosts supposed to be like…scary? I mean, don’t get me wrong this is scary, Connor is scary—he was scary before he died. But I always thought ghosts were supposed to be like something out of a horror movie, covered in rotting flesh, unable to do anything but moan and scream. Not the kid you happen to be pretending you were best friends with showing up in your room.

No, no, actually, I think I know what’s going on here. Yeah. There’s no ghost. This isn’t happening. The stuff with the letter didn’t even happen either. There was actually a step zero in there:

Step zero is I went insane.

When I manage to get the courage to come back into the room. He’s disappeared. I’ll admit, I was kinda hoping for that. I’m half relieved—more like fifteen sixteenths. Perhaps he was a hallucination after all. All those skipped dinners getting to me, when I actually ate something my body couldn’t handle it. I do my best to clean up the scattered pills on the couch, and the scattered thoughts in my brain.

But then I walk upstairs to my room I find I was wrong.

“I’ve gotten a lot reactions over the years,” he remarks when I get back. “Can’t say I’ve ever had that one.”

“Sorry, I—It’s just—I just—you’re…you’re here.”

“Not because I want to be, believe me. I’d rather be practically anywhere else.” His hand passes through my shelf.

“And you’re dead.”

“Come on.” He feigns offense. “A little respect for your dearly departed. I mean we were best friends, after all.”

“Oh god.” That’s right, the dinner. I'd tried to block out the fact that he mentioned my story earlier. “You really heard all that?!”

“Didn’t intend to go back to my house. Died to be rid of it, after all. But I did, and I saw you there, and I couldn’t fathom why. And here you were spouting the most incredible fucking bullshit about how we were friends.”

“Yeah-Um-So-Well—“ I breathe out, trying to get my lungs to work properly. I thought the Murphy’s house felt hot earlier. This is a couple degrees hotter than the Sahara.

I just want this day to end. What demon (if ghosts exist, those probably exist, after all) marked their calendar for Torment-Evan-Day? I mean, that’s kinda every day, but this is a specially-crafted brand of torture.

“The-” I swallow. “The-The letter? You know, the one that you took from me?" Then, realizing that sounds accusatory, I add, "I-I’m sure you didn’t mean to.” I shake my head. I’m trying my best to tell the truth without making him upset. It feels like a futile endeavor. “Your parents think youwrote it. T-To me, I mean. They think it was your”—I don’t know how or why, but I manage to look him in the eye—“suicide note.”

His eyes widen, but they narrow quickly afterwards. “So you just sat there and fed them bullshit about how we were friends instead of correcting them?”

“Well, no-They—they—” No, not the Sahara, I’m ninety percent sure I’m standing right in the sun. “I tried to tell them—” I swallow. “I promise I really did!” I wipe my sweaty hands on my shirt. “I mean technically I actually did tell them you didn’t write it—they were just…they didn’t understand. They wanted me—They were looking to me for help, for answers. I couldn’t—!“

Once again, I don’t know how I manage to look into those soul-sucking eyes. But once I do, I realize something.

An hour ago, I thought of him as the dead kid. The kid who killed himself. He was a concept, a symbol, more than a person I knew. But before that, as little as we talked, I did know him. He was Connor Murphy. He was real.

And in the second it takes to realize that, I’m replaying our conversations, and I’m realizing that’s wrong too. This isn’t Connor Murphy, and this isn’t the kid who killed himself. This is Connor Murphy…who killed himself. That is to say, the symbol, and the real Connor I knew, coalesce into one.

And I realize that those eyes aren’t analyzing my soul, or trying to suck it out, or hating me, or anything like that…they are so vastly, so perfectly—

“You...You didn’t give them anything else.” I don’t know how, where, I got this random shot of bravery. “I didn’t want to take away all they had of you, even if it was—“ I laugh a little, not because it’s funny, but because I can’t figure out what else to do. “Even if it was just some stupid letter I wrote to myself.”

His eyes widen. I think it’s because he’s surprised at, angered by, my boldness. I get ready to apologize, but he says:

“You wrote that to yourself?”

My eyes widen.

That’s right…I didn’t exactly let that on last time. Didn't have the chance. He thought I was messing with him.

“Y-Yeah. It…” I sigh. There’s no use denying it, and, well, it's not like he can tell anyone, right? Dead men tell no tales, after all...Except for the fact that one is talking to me. Right now. “It was an assignment from my therapist.”

Besides, if anyone’s going to understand…it’s him.

And...that's when it hits me.

Along with the realization that this is Connor Murphy, who killed himself, I realize I’ve been focused on the wrong thing.

I was worried—certain, really—that Connor would something terrible with it. All this time I was focused on covering my ass, I was focused on the fact that the letter was mine, not Connor’s.

This whole time, even after he was gone, it didn’t compute. I didn’t realize. The reason he took it. He didn’t take it because he wanted to use it against me.

Was it possible he took it...because he felt the same way?

“I bet he always brings things back to some shit that happened with your father.”

“Yeah…Yeah he does do that.” I laugh a little.

“Mine liked to equate my drug use with suppressed sexual frustrations. I told him I didn’t think they were very suppressed.”

I laugh, but quickly stop myself, remembering what happened last time I laughed at something he said, but when I turn to him he’s actually smiling. A little, at least.

“Into the Wild.” As far as abrupt subject changes go, that one might take the cake. He turns to my shelf.

“I’m—I’m sorry?”

He runs his finger along the spine of a book...or maybe just tries to. Or pretends to.

“O-Oh! You’re talking about the book!”

“I have a copy of it too—had," he scoffs, then mutters, seemingly more to himself than to me: "It feels weird to talk about myself in the past tense."

I'm sure it does feel weird.

I feel weird.

This whole thing is weird.

Even without the whole ghost thing, it feels weird to be in my room, talking about books with Connor Murphy. Like, to actually talk to him, as opposed to nervously and pitifully trying to defend myself, fearing I'll have a black eye in the morning.

“What were you and Zoe talking about?” He asks, changing the subject yet again, like that one hadn’t satisfied him enough.

“W-Oh, you saw us talking in the car. She—“ I grimace. “She wanted to know if we, uh, if we did drugs together.”

He snorts. “Always a charmer, that Zoe. My biggest fan you could say. You said we were friends and her first assumption was that we did drugs together. Can’t say her suspicion is unfounded. At least on my end. Though something tells me you’re not the type.”

“No—No I’ve never—“ I swallow. "No."

"So." Yet another subject change, it sounds like. "I had a secret email account, huh? I used it to talk to you all the time?

I freeze.

Yup. Just when I think the worst has already happened, I'm reminded hell has nine circles, and I haven't even arrived at the lobby.

When he was dead, he was a symbol. And, really—as terrible as it sounds—I could say anything about a symbol. I mean he wasn’t going to hear me. But now that I know he’s not dead—well, he is dead, just…undead, as insane as that is to think—and real (as far as I can tell), and he very much canhear me, I remember, despite the sadness in his eyes, this is still Connor Murphy, the kid who thew a printer at Mrs. G in second grade.

What the hell was I thinking?

His eyes darken. “Like, what? Secret lovers?" He shook his head. "Why the fuck would you say that?”

“Oh god, yeah I….I did say that.” Somebody just end it. “It was the only thing that made sense.”

“What kind of fucking sense does that make?!” There's a curl to his fingers.

Even though I know he can’t hurt me, my body doesn’t; it’s been trained to run away, and can’t help but stumble backwards like there’s a corporeal person in my room.

“Well they wanted to know how we could be friends without them knowing it.”

He scoffs. “I took you for some kind of loser. But now I see.” He leans forward so his eyes are level with mine. "You’re a diabolical mastermind, Evan Hansen.”

“I’m really—really—not. I just—” I hit the wardrobe in my backing up. I can’t believe he really thinks I intended any of this. My head falls into my hands. “Everything’s so messed up.”

“You saying I messed everything up?!” There’s a snarl in his voice.

“No—No!” I stand, waving my hands. “I didn’t say that! That’s not what I’m saying! I’m saying I messed everything up!”

I expect him to keep advancing, to try his best to punch me, but instead he stares at me, then sorta…falls onto bed (I’m both surprised he does this, and surprised he can) laying back, sighing. He puts his arm over his face and, to my even greater surprise, he begins to laugh. Not an actual happy laugh. I know this laugh: it’s the kind of laugh I laugh when my body doesn’t know what else to do.

“Sure, people always ignoring me, always treating me like shit, like I had some disease, that was your fault.”

“Well, I—“

“Me pushing you, that was your fault."

“Well that’s—That’s not exactly what I meant.”

"Me killing myself, leaving nothing but a letter you wrote to yourself…that’s totally your fault.”

I freeze again. I think hell might have frozen over.

He sighs. “You’re right about one thing: everything is truly fucked up.”

I sit on the bed next to him and look at my hands. I’d like to say something. To do something. To offer some words of comfort. But I’m well acquainted with the fact that 'comforting' words (like 'Chin up! It'll get better!' or ‘It’s not the end of the world.’) really aren’t comforting at all.

I’d like to at least say ‘It’ll be okay’ but…how can I say that? Maybe, for me, everything will work out in the end (…I think this is the first time that thought has ever crossed my mind) but he’s already dead. There’s nowhere for him to go. Except the afterlife. …If that even exists.

The world’s already ended for him.

I’d like to comfort him. To argue against him. To show him at least one nugget that has been unharmed in the fuckage that I could present to him. But I can’t disagree with him. Like…at all.

Like I said. Things get worse and worse.

And then...you die.

I realize something.

It's not truly comforting, but it's a positive, at least.

I jerk my head up to look at him.

“Hey, maybe-maybe you could help me!”

“Help you?” He lifts his arm a little so he can raise an eyebrow at me.

“Help me set things right! Help me tell your parents we weren’t really best friends! I’ve been wanting to tell them the truth this whole time I just—I can’t seem to get it out. You could help me figure out how to tell them!”

He sits up, studying me. “I could do that. I could help you set things right. Put an end to this charade.”

I nod profusely.

“Help you tell my parents that the only thing they have of me is a letter you wrote to yourself. Dash all their hopes and dreams, make them miserable, you know, all that shit.”

It sounds bad when he puts it like that. Maybe the truth won't set you free after all.

“Or.” His mouth curves into a smirk, and I smile back—not because I’m happy, not because it’s an actual happy smirk, rather because it’s the kind of smirk that makes me nervous as all hell, and when that happens my body picks from a wheel of stupid reactions. “I could watch you continue your little farce, watch you suffer as you invent more and more ridiculous ways to cover your ass.”

No, no, that sounds equally bad. Let’s not do that either. “Is there an option C?” My voice cracks.

He considers it a moment, sits back on his hands. “I suppose we could compromise. In your little stories about me, it might be nice if you actually portrayed me accurately. I could help with that. Right now your impersonation is laughable. I don’t know how it fooled my parents.”

“I vote for option C.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“I mean…What do you want?”

“Ohh you might just regret that.” He smirks again.

“Wait, I wasn't agreeing to giving you anything you want! I was just asking—!“

“Too late.” He puts his finger to his lips. “The deal is sealed.”

I keep digging myself into a bigger ditch without even saying anything. Let alone when I open my mouth.

“So what’s the next step of our little game?”

“Well…” I swallow. “Jared told me he could write fake emails. You know because your parents will...probably want to see them.”

“Jared, huh? Kleinman?" (I’m guessing he hasn’t forgotten about the incident from the other day.) “Good thing I’m here. If I’d left you to your own devices I’d end sounding like a—”

“Did you eat already?”

I nearly scream—well no, not nearly, I do let out a sort of strangled cry—at my mom’s voice. I had been so focused on all of…this craziness that I forgot she was heading home.

“I didn’t think I was that scary.” She laughs to herself a little, then she looks around the room, brow furrowed. “Were you talking to someone?”

She can’t see him. Good. I don’t have to explain why a dead kid is sitting in my room.

“N-Nope! Just uhh—Practicing.”

“Practicing? For what?”

“Uhh, for a play,” I say because what else could I be practicing? I can hear Connor stifling a laugh behind me.

She blinks in surprise. “Oh, Honey, you’re in the school play?”

She’s going to say it’s a bad idea. Because it is a bad idea. Because it’s not true.

“That’s fantastic!”

I blink. What?

“I always thought you hated public speaking. You know, from that time you fainted?”

“I do. That’s, uhh, that’s why I signed up!” I feel my face burning, I make a thumbs up with my casted arm. I know Connor can’t exactly use this against me, but him hearing me stumble through my lies to my mom in my own home isn’t something I signed up for today. Though, I didn’t sign up for any of this. Can I unsubscribe? “Yeah, I wanna get over that fear.”

“I’m so proud of you!” She clasps her hands together. “If you haven’t eaten yet, why don’t we have a celebratory meal?”

I’m shocked. Usually she’s the police on making sure I’ve eaten.

“Oh…Darn,” I say a little over-emphatically. “I already ate.”

“Darn.” She repeats.

“That was fun the other day, right?” She says. “Going out for breakfast?”

So much has happened since our breakfast it already feels like ages ago. “Yeah. Definitely. It was.”

“I was thinking, how about I bag one of my shifts this week. When’s the last time we did a taco night?”

I can’t remember, but I’m pretty sure those tortillas in the freezer have turned by now. “Oh. You don’t have to.”

“No, I want to. Maybe we could even start brainstorming those essay questions together.”

The essays. Of course. Her face waits expectantly. “Sure,” I say. “That would be great.”

“Oh. That’s exciting,” she says looking victorious. “I’m excited now. Something to look forward to.”

“Yeah.”

“‘Practicing’?” Connor snorts after she leaves. “‘For a play’? You? You really need some coaching on this whole lying business. I thought you were a terrible liar with my parents but this is fucking priceless.”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” I bite.

Something dark enters his eyes. “I think hell will wait for me.”

"Well that's not what I—Oh never mind."

#dear evan hansen #evan hansen #connor murphy #deh musical #deh #heidi hansen #musical fandom

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weekend-whip · 4 months

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-20 asks for Fic Writers-

hey-lo!! I was tagged by @rainofthetwilight for a fun ask game!! Thank you!! ^-^)/

for tags, any fic writer that comes across this and feels compelled! You have my blessing! Go forth and rant about thy fics!!! Share your words with the world!! Give people new stuff to read!! Flaunt your beautiful achievements!!

. . .

1.How many works do you have on AO3?

19! And counting!

2. What's your total AO3 wordcount?

...791,937 and counting *lies down* (at least most of it is just one fic? Ahaha? ha?)

3. What fandom(s) do you write for?

right now, just ninjago! I wrote for some other fandoms back in the day (with...equally ambitious endeavors) and I initially made my Ao3 account for Definitely Not Ninjago...but, here we are :d

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Born to Be a 21st Century Ninja: 1116

Thank You, For Giving Me Wings: 560

Way of the 21st Century Ninja: 546

Assorted Thoughts and Feelings: 201

Married to the Sea: 161 (which I'm sure will get beat-out by GNL here soon haha)

5. Do you respond to comments?

I TRY, REALLY, MOSTLY, AND USUALLY but sometimes I get too excited and things shift through the cracks (hence why I generally make it a habit to respond to stuff I missed before/around/after a big update! That way it's on my mind!)

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

i haven't written it yet I MEAN WHAT it's Married to the Sea. I'm not big on writing overly bad/sad/tragic endings yet

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

Paper Plate Moon, the only fic without an existential crisis of some kind (just a slightly lovesick Kai with a smaller scope crisis) Orrr, A Little More Than Sixteen Candles, which is also about Kai! Except he cries. But it's a happy cry!

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not yet

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

(...wait, there's 'kinds' of smut?!?! do i dare even ask)

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

Braaaaah I looooooooved crossovers when I was younger. My biggest story from my youth was a crossover. ...I won't be telling you what it is, though. It's part of my dark, mysterious past.

(I also don't count Legacyverse as a crossover, either. It's more of a...fusion! But. Y'know. The roots are there.....)

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Only once, and it was the aforementioned crazy crossover fic from above. They were dealt with very swiftly tho :3

12. What's the longest time you've spent working on a fic? And what's the shortest?

Longest that I've finished would be Born to Be; that took me technically almost two full years to write x-x

Shortest would be all the Aftershock oneshots I manage to speedrun in a few scant hours on holidays lmao

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

I've triiiiiiiied a couple times in the past; only one attempt was successful though.

14. What's your all time favourite ship? From all the fandoms?

Destiny's Bounty! Man, I adore that ship so much.

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

THE MERMAID AU or the Jesse Fanseason or all the little prompt things from June '22 that still haunt me to this day or some of legacy!sidestories I should've done ages ago or-

16. What are your writing strengths?

*grabs some stuff from comments* I have strength in character development and providing emotional depth for scenes! *I* also think I write some kickass fight scenes, thank you.

17. What are your writing weaknessess?

BASIC GRAMMAR LMAO and probably using too many commas and ellipses but I am trying to ween myself off of it and incorporate shorter sentences. I always forget to vary up sentence length until the end waaaah

(I also miss typos a lot but I am of the camp that believes it keeps one humble~ *should probably just get a beta reader but hnnng*)

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

Intimidating

19. First fandom you wrote for?

...something video game related

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

Probably Born to Be just because of how darn big of an achievement it is! and I reread it a lot <3 <3 <3 <3

#tag games #fic tag #other relevant things to be tagged later

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whatever-you-can-give-me · 5 months

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20 Question Fic Writer Tag

@madnessmadness tagged me in this like a month ago and i never saw it until now whoops. functional hellsite

How many works do you have on AO3? 311!

What is your AO3 word count? 628,514

What fandoms do you write for? currently, trigun!

What are your top five fics by kudos? #1 is a Lucifer TV fic from five years ago that i put very little effort into but it's the main ship for a show that was very popular at the time so it haunts me. #2, #4, and #5 are good omens collab fics <3 #3 is for reasons wretched and divine, as it deserves

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? i respond to comments from whatever my current fandom is, and sometimes the fandom before it. and then trigun kind of took off and i kind of took off within trigun fandom and then i posted a fic every day for a month so now i have a backlog of. 68 comments. whoops. i'll get to it!

What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? excluding things where i play around with canonical angst, hmm. very few people actually read my cowboy bebop fics, and statistics show i am the only person who liked the doomed live action show, but we never had a choice but to give up is a very fun & rather dark au of a specific moment from the live action show.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? i'm a fan of happy endings in general, recently it's and i would give all this and heaven too which is essentially a Fix It With Vampires fic.

Do you get hate on fics? not so much anymore, but it has happened. honestly when trigun took off i expected more bullshit from people.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? i do, when i'm in the mood for it. usually feelingsy smut with trans characters, or some moderately weird kinky shit. usually both at the same time.

Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? not really a crossover fan, per say. i think too hard about the details.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? hopefully not!

Have you ever had a fic translated? yes!

Have you ever cowritten a fic before? i wouldn't be the writer i am today without @irisbleufic mentoring me by way of several collabs in the good omens fandom years ago.

What's your all-time favourite ship? that's a hard one. i'm going to go with the wildcard option and say elendira/razlo. they're everything to me.

What's a WIP you'd like to finish but doubt you ever will? i'm not jinxing myself like that.

What are your writing strengths? i'm very technically skilled, i know all the tools and tricks that make Good, Proficient Writing, and some part of that transcends what feels like rote skill-building to me into some kind of style.

What are your writing weaknesses? plot. i'm not a plot guy, most of the time.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? as a monolingual schlub, neutral. i get why people do it, especially for multilingual authors, but it's a bit clunky/immersion-breaking to have to open google translate or click to a footnote. also Random Spanish (For Romance!) makes me cringe.

First fandom you wrote for? ...anne of green gables. i have no idea if the notebook i wrote it in still exists anywhere but i clearly remember writing something about anne and....... gilbert? i think is his name?

Favourite fic you've ever written? i already mentioned for reasons wretched and divine, which is tied with nobody said it was easy. both projects made me a better writer, and i love both fics dearly.

tagging anyone who wants to do it!

#trigun fic #this reminds me there's an end of year writing retrospective i want to yoink from a friend's dreamwidth

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futureseaempress · 7 months

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20 Questions for Fic Writers

hi so my sweetheart tagged me in this @hypnostheory so thank u bb

1. How many works do you have in Ao3?

27 (teehee that's my fave number) (i also have like two more on a google drive that are wips,,, some princes don't become kings & first date which is called nastygum in like all my notes)

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 163,308 which is like longer than twilight i think

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Homestuck, AFTG, SK8 the Infinity, TMA, Stardew Valley, RWRB, and uhhh law and order svu

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

honey, why're you calling me so late? (matchablossom)

about to bloom (matchablossom)

baby kiss it better (first prince)

i only want what i can't have (first prince)

as certain dark things are to be loved (jonmartin)

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

i would love to but sometimes i just don't have anything to say

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

uhhhhh i don't think any of my fics have super angsty endings-- fanning the flame was supposed to end with a super sad chapter about agnes and jack but i never wrote it lmao maybe i'll get back to her in november

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

ummmm i try to end everything on a loving/happy note bc that's what i like to read most

i think asking you to stay has like the cheesiest last line

8. Do you get hate on fics?

uh not yet thank goodness. i used to back in my wattpad days though and i did have someone say something kinda off color to me in a writing exchange but that worked itself out

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

because it's most of what i read i try to include like a horny scene in most if not all of my stuff but i like anything rlly i sort by ship, explicit, and go from there I think "Coming In Pants" is a frequent flyer.

10. Do you write crossovers? If so, what’s your craziest one?

Nope. Not my cup of tea. OH MY GOD ACTUALLY I'M A LIAR IN 2012 I HAD A ONE DIRECTION RPF TWILIGHT FANFIC? THAT I NEVER POSTED AND SOLELY EXISTED IN MY NOTES APP THAT MY FRIEND AND I WOULD LIKE ROLEPLAY???? seventh grade was wild for me

11. Have you ever had your fic stolen?

YEP! both my current fanfic and my older stuff like i had a terrible homestuck fanfic on wattpad that someone reposted saying mine was too smutty and then on ao3 there is a fic,,, that,,, very heavily seems to draw from baby kiss it better but idk maybe henry wearing alex's white t shirt and a taylor swift cardigan while sick before alex blows him is just reaaally common

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope

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

so other than some garbage i was writing in middle school no, but i do for sure like let my partner beta everything and we run ideas by each other all the time and like work out how to block stuff and what seems interesting they keep me from going to melodramatic and i help them know what sex sounds fun

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

oh god i can't choose. i love davekat, but i love alex and henry a lot. like a lot. like wow i loved the book last year and the movie has given me brain worms and there's other karkat ships i rlly like. hmmm okay i have two hands and i hold my sons Crabapple and Firstprince.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably never will?

so many davekat wips

the sweet home alabama fic for sure.

the nanny au. uh the other davekat band au that's just a draft... probably fanning the flame. there's also a coda for more silver paint that haunts me.

16. What are your writing strengths?

uhhhhh i think i'm good at banter? (see echoed through my mind) i think i'm good at like making stuff fit into canon and comply with it in fun ways (see this hope is). i think i'm good at writing characters having break downs (see chapter 3 of silver paint or going with the flow)

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I SUCK SO BAD AT FINISHING THINGS AND I GET STUCK ON MY PORN EVERY TIME

also commas

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

bafhehasdk so like it's kinda a pet peeve a lot of the times i feel like spanish especially ends up reading kind of like Law and Order dialogue like "he trabajo'ed here last week" but i eat that shit up in theory. like people would probs do better throwing random french in shit bc my ass would be like SOUNDS RIGHT TO ME. it's also like cultural references get lost and i know just enough spanish to know when something is "off" so i prefer like "This is a line of dialogue," they said in Spanish.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Homestuck! on wattpad! in 2012! it was bad mpreg! i was 13!!

TMA on ao3! in like 2020

but i did once write a one direction rpf with my friend that we posted on instagram in 2011

20. Favorite fic that you’ve written?

oh god i don't know. i think it's gotta be glory just bc i spent so long with it and i'm hoping to finish it during november (i do nanowrimo in a crazy bass ackwards way) but tire trouble is like the one everyone else loves best??? and i have a sequel in the works for it im just super into rwrb rn

I’m tagging @wardenhawke bc i feel like you might like talking about your ocs at least and i like u

#asks #writers #20 questions for fic writers #20 questions

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serenescribe · 8 months

Note

for the new ask game!! hope you're having a fun day!

1/ my favorite fic of yours:

i want to say all of them but thats not how this works TvT so ill limit myself: anything you wrote for the selkie au (beloved selkie son <33), hollow moon (im still haunted whenever i see the moon outside), everything goes dark (i dont even know anything about feh?? but i fell in love with the setting and extreme dubious morality) and the silver sleeps for 100 years after mal's ob fic (utter hell; broke my heart and tore it to shreds. i will shatter like glass if i attempt to re-read it i think)

6/ something i remember vividly from reading one of your fics:

the flashbacks from 'everything goes dark' come back to haunt me every now and then. i vividly recall the growing dread i felt reading through them and the gut churning horror of reading those final ones; terribly fucked up lilia my beloved 🫶

7/ what made me the most emotional after reading:

two for nero got a visceral reaction out of me the first time i read it but what actually made me most emotional was the absolute descent into madness that hollow moon was. the build up of silver's condition and the way i kept going 'there's no way it can get worse' only to get proven wrong a few paragraphs later had my inside tied in knots and tears dripping down my face before i even got to the end ;;; ALSO that fic where lilias "i love you's" aren't enough to wake silver up anymore tore me apart. i still think about it a lot

12/ a fic of yours that ive re-read:

so many!! i re-read two for nero twice, i go back to the selkie fics a lot, also re-read the silver sickfic, the diasomnia cuddle pile anddd that's all ive got off the top of my head o/

Fanfic asks - for the askers

micaaaa my beloved!! i love our selkie au dearly and i still want to write more for it when i am not crushed under the weight of old english and essays :'D excellent picks for fav fics!! i'm glad to see some appreciation for everything goes dark bc i'm still very fond of that; i went a lot more descriptive than i usually do and i'm still quite happy with it!

again, i am so SO glad that hollow moon fucked people up. mission goddamn accomplished!! the way everyone was probably just like "it can't get worse" only for me to sledgehammer them with the next paragraph. truly a train wreck in the slowest possible speed. it really does get worse before it gets better. (and aaaa god that fic ;;; tore at my own heart while i was writing it)

happy to know that you reread some of my stuff <3 thank you for sending this in!! :D

#ask box #0rchidm4ntis #pops confetti yippeeeee mica time

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glitternightingale · 2 years

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Weird Questions for Writers (because writers are weird)

Taken from this list

As I said, this is just me comprising the asks so that I remember which ones I've already answered!

Now, onto the mess that is my writing routine:

1. What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting?

2. If you had to give up your keyboard and write your stories exclusively by hand, could you do it? If you already write everything by hand, a) are you a wizard and b) pen or pencil?

3. What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?

My writing ritual is to obsess over an idea for weeks, thinking I haven't thought it out well enough, and when I do want to write the fic/next chapter I avoid it for the majority of the day. It gets late and I get tired but feel like I haven't been productive. That's when the first word garble appears!

4. What’s a word that makes you go absolutely feral?

"Apprehensive"

5. Do you have any writing superstitions? What are they and why are they 100% true?

Hmm, my superstition is (not only when it comes to writing but just about anything I create) that when I'm proud of something I've made it's probably mediocre for everyone else. Surprisingly, my "best" is usually my "Meh...", so I try to avoid feeling overly confident! (But it also helps to sketch everyone's favorite prophet before I start a new project--)

6. What is your darkest fear about writing?

7. What is your deepest joy about writing?

8. If you had to write an entire story without either action or dialogue, which would you choose and how would it go?

I would choose to write a story without dialogue. Because, and here it becomes sneaky, I could say just as much through interior monologue or describing the characters' facial expressions and body language. (Or even write 10k of exposition)

9. Do you believe in ghosts? This isn’t about writing I just wanna know

No, I do not. My opinion changes, however, when it gets dark and something's lurking behind the door, ready to fry me with lasers.

10. Has a piece of writing ever “haunted” you? Has your own writing haunted you? What does that mean to you?

WIPs haunt me. They're like incomplete circles and I can't start something new without them being finished. (That's why I don't like writing multi-chapter fics. The needed commitment is just super big.)

11. Do you believe in the old advice to “kill your darlings?” Are you a ruthless darling assassin? What happens to the darlings you murder? Do you have a darling graveyard? Do you grieve?

12. If a genie offered you three writing wishes, what would they be? Btw if you wish for more wishes the genie turns all your current WIPs into Lorem Ipsum, I don’t make the rules

Wish 1: AO3 doesn't destroy my format when I import text from Google Docs.

Wish 2: Writing comments on other people's works comes more easily to me.

Wish 3: Just... everything I write is enjoyable(?)

13. What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you to write about? What is easy?

14. Do you lend your books to people? Are people scared to borrow books from you? Do you know exactly where all your “lost” books are and which specific friend from school you haven’t seen in twelve years still possesses them? Will you ever get them back?

15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?

*cringes at the thought* Nope, I like my books clean and basically unused (so that I can make some profit if I decide to sell them later). It's a different topic if the text is digital, though. The pens that come with most tablets hafta be used!

16. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever used as a bookmark?

I've made this Harry Potter wand out of wood, hot glue, and sparkly stones once. It served its purpose to weigh down the book pages but then it slid off and broke. Oh, well.

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage.

"Ah-ha! Here it is!" he exclaimed, holding the mysterious object aloft between his bony fingers.

The young girl squinted at the colorfully-striped cone, only realizing it was a party hat when Tío Bruno managed to attach it to the donkey's forehead.

She squealed in amazement as she saw the picture-perfect mythical animal blinking at her in all its radiant glory. However, this did not erase all the dreadful thoughts she had."

Right, so, I do watch Encanto quite often and there are always new things to discover. Then, while I was standing in front of the mirror, trying to make my eyebrows look symmetrical, I connected the party hats Osvaldo gave to Mirabel (in the "Not-Special Special" Basket) with the scene where Luisa's jumping over pink clouds with her unicorn donkeys. Party hats look like cones and cones look like unicorn horns-- Dumb, I know. But know who else would have these dumb ideas? Bruno.

19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

20. If a witch offered you the choice between eternal happiness with your one true love and the ability to finally finish, perfect, and publish your dearest, darlingest, most precious WIP in exactly the way you’ve always imagined it — which would you choose? You can’t have both sorry, life’s a bitch

21. Could you ever quit writing? Do you ever wish you could? Why or why not?

22. How organized are you with your writing? Describe to me your organization method, if it exists. What tools do you use? Notebooks? Binders? Apps? The Cloud?

23. Describe the physical environment in which you write. Be as detailed as possible. Tell me what’s around you as you work. Paint me a picture.

24. How much prep work do you put into your stories? What does that look like for you? Do you enjoy this part or do you just want to get on with it?

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?

26. How do you get into your character’s head? How do you get out? Do you ever regret going in there in the first place?

27. Who is the most stressful character you’ve ever written? Why?

Aside from the fact that writing anyone ever is pretty stressful, I'd say it's Félix (Encanto). I couldn't pin down his personality at first without it seeming ooc and picturing his role in the Madrigals' dynamics.

28. Who is the most delightful character you’ve ever written? Why?

29. Where do you draw your inspiration? What do you do when the inspiration well runs dry?

30. Talk to me about the role dreams play in your writing life. Have you ever used material from your dreams in your writing? Have you ever written in a dream? Did you remember it when you woke up?

31. Write a short love letter to your readers.

32. What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?

33. Do you practice any other art besides writing? Does that art ever tie into your writing, or is it entirely separate?

34. Thoughts on the Oxford comma, Go:

35. What’s your favorite writing rule to smash into smithereens?

36. They say to Write What You Know. Setting aside for a moment the fact that this is terrible advice…what do you Know?

37. If you were to be remembered only by the words you’ve put on the page, what would future historians think of you?

38. What is something about your writing process YOU think is Really Weird? If you are comfortable, please share. If you’re not comfortable, what do you think cats say about us?

39. What keeps you writing when you feel like giving up?

40. Please share a poem with me, I need it.

(Don't judge me for this one lmao.)

The glass is dark, your reflection green

What do you feel when you fall on your spleen?

Is it pain? Is it greed?

Or are you-- freed?

#Keep the questions coming if you want!#my writing #my stuff #ask game #asks #ask game weird writing questions #encanto #encanto fanfic #waach #bruno madrigal #luisa madrigal #mirabel madrigal #félix madrigal

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