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eyesthatroll · 3 months

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wip catalogue ! ft. qh43, lh43, jh86, nm29, tz11, jc37, dm91

author's note; hey everyone, mari here, just wanted to say thank you for 1k followers!!!!!!!!1 that's crazy, and you guys are so so amazing and cool and swag. i thought about doing a celly, (fun fact, i've never done one of those!) but i've decided to save that for next time and attempt to do a draft clean out.

i have 117 drafts, really just pages upon pages of unfinished work that i'd like to get out at some point. so, if you enjoy my writing, under the cut will be excerpts from fics/oneshots/series' that i haven't finished. if any of them of them peak your interest, please let me know by either leaving a comment, or something in my inbox. i'll try and work on the ones that have the most interest first, and then finish the others. if this doesn't make sense, or you have any questions, you can let me know in the same fashion.

dad!jt compher x fem!reader

Eamon huffs out of frustration. “She’ll already marry Sammy B. by then.”

Laughter escapes JT’s lips, “and who is Sammy B.?”

He huffs again. “He has black hair, and he sits by her in reading. Why can’t I have hair like mommy?”

“I got my hair color from my dad, your papa, just like you got yours from daddy.” You explain.

“Well, I don’t want daddy’s stupid h-hair.” Eamon’s voice waivers, and the tears that he was holding in begin to free fall. He turns into your side, clutching your shirt.

This idea randomly came to me. Eamon would probably be in either first or second grade, and has a little crush like all kids have. Said crush doesn't like his hair color, and tells him that flat out because kids are menaces and very blunt. OR. Was floating around the idea of the same concept, but perhaps a teenage girl? tween girl, maybe middle school age, and the boy she likes only likes blondes, so she asks to dye her hair blonde? But obviously that conversation would be waaaay more mature. I don't know. If you have any thoughts, feel free to let me know.

———

jack hughes x fem!reader (best friends brother/kinda enemies to lovers)

"You can put your drink on my tab." A voice says, coming up from behind you, a hand on the small of your back as he takes a seat at the barstool to your right. You smile to yourself, shaking your head before turning to him.

You quirk a brow at him, "I did that already."

He rolls his eyes at your answer, taking a sip of his own drink, some beer you'd never heard of until earlier tonight. You'd taken a sip of Luke's earlier, and about gagged at the taste. "Of course you did."

You shrug your shoulders, no shame in your game. You were at a bar with about a dozen NHL players, you'd be damned if you had to buy your own drinks. "I already told Lukey I'm not paying for anything this weekend."

The request: Hiii can I request something where reader and luke know each other from college and they’re at a party or bar and jack is visiting luke so they see each other and jack is interested in reader but she’s playing hard to get 🤭

I changed the request a bit, so it's set in this season when Luke is already with the Devils, and reader visits during that 5 game homestead. This would probably be a long one shot, and I like the idea of combining these tropes:

forbidden

best friends brother

enemies to lovers (but not insanely enemies)

(more below, but a different part than above)

He scoffs, his hand pushing into your shoulder, playfully of course. "I love this relationship that we have."

You quirk a brow, bringing your glass to your lips, finishing off the rest of your white russian. "And what relationship is that?"

"The one where you pretend you're not in love with your best friends older brother."

"I always did like Quinn." You respond, an innocent smile on your lips.

"No-"

You cut him off. "Plus, he has that whole Captain thing going on. Very sexy."

"He has a girlfriend!" He exclaims.

You shrug your shoulders, leaning in closer to face him. "That's too bad."

You're obviously joking, but Jack doesn't seem to catch on. "And, you're too young for him."

You shoot him a questioning look. "But not for you, huh?"

He slides his barstool closer to yours, the fabric of his jeans making contact with the bare skin of your knee. "Are you still dating that college fuck, what was his name.. Alan?"

Your tongue rolls over your bottom lip. "Aiden."

He nods, feigning a look of realization, while you both know that he knew his name. "Right, Aiden." He confirms. "The guy who leaves you on the side of the road at 3am."

You scoff, shaking your head. "That was one time."

Your eyes shoot to his palm, that has found a place on your thigh, his warm hand against your cold skin sending a chill throughout your body.

"I could never leave a pretty girl like you on the side of the road." He continues.

Probably going to have a lot of bickering throughout the fic, reader will be hardheaded and uncompromising on fucking up her friendship with Luke. I haven't fleshed out the personalities I want them to have yet so this is in a very rough stage. If you have any thoughts, feel free to let me know.

———

nathan mackinnon x fem!reader (5 year age gap)

“Today’s my 23rd birthday.” You say, before taking a sip of your drink, your attention to the right, where a man as struck up a conversation with you at the bar.

He takes a swig of his beer, his eyes roaming your body before they finally meet your gaze again. He looks conflicted, his brows tensed as if battling an internal war.

You weren’t stupid. You graduated college top of your class—with honors, and even if you hadn’t, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize that you were speaking to an older man.

The only man, to even catch a sliver of your entire, in the entire bar. You’d caught eyes with him from across the room, back when you were pushed in a booth with your friends. He looked away immediately, but you could feel his eyes on you every now and again, before you finally excused yourself from the table and went up to the bar. You wore a black slip dress, your hair cascading down your back with silver glitter hair tinsel placed throughout. You didn't bother turning to see if he would follow you, you don't chase, you attract. If he sat in the chair next to you, then he was buying you a drink. And if he didn't, then you'd move on to the next.

“Happy Birthday.” He finally said.

"What happened to your nose?" You were over the birthday formalities-having received them all night. You had questions for the man sitting next to you, starting with his bruised nose, a prominent and formidable feature dominating his face that you couldn't take your eyes off of. With him looking straight at you, you could see that it curved slightly to your right. Nothing stopped the thoughts of feeling it against your skin.

"My nose?" He questions. There's surprise in his tone of voice, like he forgot about the bruise on his nose, or surprised that you'd asked about it.

"Quite the shiner you got there." You comment again, bringing your glass to your lips again, this time finishing off the rest.

"Uh-" he pauses. There it is again with those tensed eyebrows, you wished you could gauge what he was thinking about. "Work incident."

"Damn, where do you work?" You let out a chuckle. You hadn't meant to be blunt, but you couldn't imagine what line of work would create a bruise like that.

He finishes his beer, setting it back on the counter with a light thud. "I work in..sports."

"What are you like a gym teacher?"

He laughs, for the first time since he's sat down next to you. You could tell that he had a nice smile. "Something like that."

Another fic starting in a bar. Don't know how this started, but very self indulgent as I am 22 and suffer from nate mac brainrot daily ! I have no idea for plot at all, literally nothing. I'd probably want to include smut of some sort, that seems very much where the vibe is heading, but I am absolutely terrible at writing it, so I'll have to do some research and practice writing that (if you have any tips-please let me know!!)

———

quinn hughes x fem!reader (debating on making this an oc)

Quinn and Reader (debating on making reader an OC!) are getting married in a week, and reader is still struggling to write her vows. Will probably be a long fic and include the wedding. A bit angsty, but a lot of fluff to make up for it. I'd probably give reader/oc emotionally distant parents?? Or maybe her parents are divorced? Not sure. It'll mid offseason, so we'll probably see a lot of familiar faces (j. norris, b. tkachuk, etc.)

Your frustration mounted as you released an exasperated sigh, the eraser of your pencil frantically working overtime to correct yet another line that failed to capture the right essence. You flicked away the eraser remnants with a swift motion of your palm, straightening out your legs and allowing the spiral notebook to settle in your lap. Leaning back against the arm of the couch, you closed your eyes, simultaneously opening and closing your hand in an attempt to alleviate the cramping in your fingers. A burgeoning headache threatened to take hold, and you could feel a slight discomfort in your eyes after hours of writing without the aid of your glasses.

A week, you were getting married in a week, and you still hadn't finished writing your vows. Admittedly, you had procrastinated until the last minute, but you hadn't anticipated the challenge to be this daunting. Your love for Quinn surpassed anything you had ever experienced, so why was expressing it in words proving to be such a formidable task? Frustration morphed into annoyance, and you carelessly tossed the notebook onto the modest coffee table before rising from the couch and heading towards the bathroom.

You were grateful that no one was home at the moment. Everyone had gone out for lunch, and you chose to remain behind, citing a lack of sleep the previous night as the reason for your decision to take a nap. While that wasn't entirely false – your night had indeed been restless – your true intention wasn't to catch up on sleep while the others were away. Quinn, being the caring soul he was, insisted on staying with you, but you resisted his efforts and practically ushered him out the door. That was about an hour ago, and you were keenly aware that their return was imminent.

Delving into the medicine cabinet, your fingers located the bottle of aspirin. You poured two into your palm, easily popping them into your mouth and washing them down with water from the sink. Gazing into the mirror, you couldn't help but cringe at your reflection. The extent of your fatigue hit you with full force – the bags under your eyes were darker than you had ever seen them.

Let me know your thoughts if you have any.

———

quinn hughes x fem!reader

This would probably just be a fluffy, short, domestic blurb, don't really have any other plot ideas for this.

Arriving home from work, all you wanted to do was take a shower and collapse into your bed. Tonight was an exception, with your shift extending later than usual, around 10:30, instead of your customary 9. Combine that with your regular hour-long commute, and it's almost midnight by the time you finally get home. Silently navigating through the dark and quiet house, it appears that your boyfriend is already asleep. However, as you step into your shared bedroom, you find him slumped against the headboard, eyes fixed on his iPad, headphones in.

The soft glow from the screen casts a muted ambiance in the room, the only sound being the distant hum of the city outside. Your initial fatigue gives way to a subtle pang of guilt, realizing he stayed up to wait for you, something he quite often did when he was home, even though you insisted he not.

He doesn't notice you, until you've crossed over to your dresser to grab your nightclothes before your shower, slightly jumping before dropping his iPad and taking out his headphones. "Hey, you're finally home." He comments, climbing out of his previous spot on the bed to sit at the edge of the bed, his legs hanging off the edge.

You yawn, turning around to face him. "Don't you have to be up early tomorrow?" You question. He pats his thighs, gesturing for you step over to him.

Leaving your clothes to rest on the dresser, you walk over to him. Quinn widens his legs so you can step in between them. Wordlessly, his fingers trail up your waist, to your chest, beginning to undo the buttons of your white lab coat. He slides the fabric off your shoulders, leaving only the black satin blouse you'd been wearing underneath.

He pulls gently at your collar, drawing your lips to his softly. His hands drop to your waist, gripping at your sides to guide you on top of him until you're straddling him.

"Are you okay, Quinn?" you ask, breaking apart from the kiss, just enough for your foreheads to remain pressed against each other.

"Just missed you." he mumbles, pulling you into a hug, his head finding a comfortable spot in the crook of your neck.

Let me know your thoughts if you have any.

———

jack hughes x fem!reader

Toxicity, angst, angry sex, maybe second chance love, idk.

"Where have you been?" Jack's inquiry slices through the air, surprising you as you step quietly through the front door. Your boyfriend, still awake and perched on the couch, rises to his feet the moment the door closes, arms crossed at his chest, a sour expression gracing his features. Your brows furrow in confusion as you lift one foot behind you, placing your hand on the wall for balance while attempting to undo your heel.

"What?" His question catches you off guard, especially because you had left him multiple messages earlier, clearly communicating your plans for the night—messages that went unanswered, leaving you on read once again. He sighs, a mix of frustration and concern, and crosses over to you, bending down. Without a word, he grabs your knee, gently pulling your heel-clad foot to rest on your knee, his hands deftly moving to undo the straps. He repeats the same with the other foot, before releasing you of his hold.

"I don't like you being out this late," he says, the firmness in his voice evident as he pushes himself up from his feet. Suddenly, he's towering over you, and you angle your neck to look up at him, annoyance etching your face.

"Sorry, Dad, didn't realize I had a curfew," you slur with a wry smile, a hint of laughter punctuating the absurdity of his concern. With a last dismissive glance, you shake your head and push past him, your shoulder bumping into his side as you ascend the stairs to the bedroom.

Let me know your thoughts if you have any.

———

quinn hughes x fem!reader

Quinn shows the reader that she can enjoy her birthday when the two of them spend it together for the first time. Would be super fluffy, reader will be written to have two dads, though I might make it an OC instead.

Quinn's persistent nuzzling against your shoulder blade disrupts your peaceful slumber. With a groan, you bury your head deeper into the pillow, yearning to cling to a few more precious moments of sleep before the demands of the day pull you from its embrace. Gradually, he initiates a series of tender kisses, commencing at your collarbone and concluding at that delightful spot just beneath your neck. "Happy Birthday, Angel," Quinn murmurs, his warm breath brushing against your skin.

Gently parting your eyelids, you shift on your other side to meet his gaze. His eyes are already fixed on you, brimming with adoration, as his teeth graze at his bottom lip. The morning sunlight filters through the blinds, casting a warm glow that accentuates just how gorgeous he truly is. Even in the early hours, with disheveled hair and faint remnants of drool, he remains undeniably handsome in every retrospect.

"Thank you," you express your gratitude softly, a subtle shyness tinting your voice.

Birthdays, even as a child, never held much appeal for you. The discomfort of being the focal point, the recipient of attention, has remained a constant, and birthdays, with their inevitable spotlight, are something you've always actively avoided. Yet, here you are, facing a birthday that feels different, primarily because Quinn is here to share it with you. This marks the first birthday you're spending with him in the span of your three year relationship, and it's a welcomed departure from the usual routine. It's a rarity, considering his demanding schedule that seldom grants him time off, but you know it's because he'll be leaving for a four game road-trip on Monday.

Reaching over, his hand envelops yours, fingers applying deliberate pressure that prompts a satisfying crack from your knuckles. It's a peculiar habit he picked up from you, a subtle exchange of quirks that began when you surprised him with it initially. "I have a special day planned for you," he announces, punctuating his words with a tender kiss pressed into the center of your palm.

"You know I don't want a fuss, Quinn," you mumble, weariness etched across your features.

He senses your reluctance and responds swiftly, his touch gentle as he brushes a strand of hair away from your eyes. "Not too much," he reassures, his words soothing against your worries. "Just want to celebrate you, Angel, on your day." Drawing nearer, he shifts, propping himself up on his right arm as he hovers over you. "Will you let me?" He wets his bottom lip, anticipation palpable as he awaits your response.

A small, close-lipped smile graces your lips as you reach up, your fingers delicately tracing over the overgrown scruff that lines his face. "Of course I will." A wide grin spreads across his face in response to your words, and he leans in, morning breath be damned, as your lips meet in a soft, synchronized dance.

He breaks apart, planting a kiss on your nose, before carefully stepping over you to get out of bed. "You get ready, I'll make breakfast."

Let me know your thoughts if you have any.

———

luke hughes x fem!reader (but not really)

This is part two to Nobody's Love. I finished it, but I absolutely hate it, and will basically be starting over from square one. Below is where we would've left off, but when I finish this properly, it won't start with this dialogue, it will probably open within a flashback, and this part will be later in the story (if that makes sense).

"What's going on here?" Your blood runs cold at the sound of his voice, and you immediately break away from Jack, moving with an urgency as if you'd been caught doing something forbidden. Frantically, your hands move to wipe away the lingering traces of tears that you'd shed just moments ago. But your efforts to disguise your emotions prove futile as Luke's keen eyes detect the remnants of your sorrow, and his face contorts into a mix of confusion and well-intended concern.

"Why is she crying? What did you do to her?" Luke's voice brims with accusation, his words directed at his brother.. He takes a step forward, his intent to comfort you clear in his movement. You instinctively shuffle backwards, creating a protective distance, your arms loosely crossing over your chest.

Jack scoffs, disbelief etched across his features. "I didn't do anything," he retorts, his tone dripping with emphasis on the word 'I,' subtly implying that Luke is the source of your distress.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Luke's words slice through the air, laced with an unmistakable edge. His face tinges with a reddish hue as his gaze drills into Jack.

Again, would love to give you a bigger excerpt, but I hate everything else of what I've written LMAO. Let me know your thoughts if you have any.

———

quinn hughes x darcy sorokin (black fem!oc)

Basically a quinn x single mom au. May rewrite this entire thing. Also, started this months ago and loved the name Sunny for the kid (Sunny Sorokin) (no relation to the hockey player) but now I kind of hate it :)

Quinn became utterly enamored with her the moment his gaze met hers in the diner. She was a delightful surprise, replacing his usual waiter, Johnny, to collect his order. Her dark skin seemed to radiate a subtle glow under the dim diner lights, and her curly hair was artfully gathered in a loose bun resting at the back of her neck, adorned with a floral bandana draped over it. When she smiled, her dimples and the slight gap between her front teeth only added to her charm, leaving Quinn captivated and unable to shake thoughts of her for days.

Quinn stumbled upon Alma’s, the quaint diner, during his rookie year in Vancouver. Its unassuming atmosphere, a hidden gem tucked away, immediately resonated with him, providing a sense of ease. Combine that with the staff’s familial treatment, and he easily became a regular patron. Now, however, his visits weren’t just about unwinding and savoring a meal; he hoped to encounter the beautiful waitress he had learned was named Darcy (not through inquiry, but thanks to her name tag — he was too anxious to ask). Quinn relished any excuse to come to the diner, whether to be served by Darcy or simply steal glances at her when she wasn’t looking.

Quinn’s attempts to discreetly observe Darcy didn’t go unnoticed. She could sense the weight of his gaze, subtly tracking her movements around the diner. Intrigued and slightly puzzled by his behavior, Darcy decided to approach her co-worker, Johnny, to inquire about this regular customer. Johnny, with his wealth of experience at the diner, shared that Quinn was a nice guy who had been a faithful patron for years. He detailed Quinn’s routine of ordering the same breakfast every morning—soft scrambled eggs on wheat—followed by prolonged disappearances, especially during the summer months. Armed with this newfound knowledge, Darcy’s curiosity about the handsome and somewhat mysterious customer deepened.

Darcy couldn’t deny the undeniable attractiveness of the man. His chestnut brown hair, steadily growing out since their first encounter, months ago, often required his attention as he habitually moved it out of his line of sight. His eyes, a deep brown that occasionally hinted at hazel in the early morning light. The way his teeth grazed over his bottom lip during conversation, though she was unsure if it was born out of nervousness or mere habit. Following the tumultuous chapter with her ex-boyfriend, after nearly five years, another man had finally found a place in her thoughts.

She harbored these thoughts secretly, keeping them locked away from anyone but herself. With her son, Sunny, now five years old, she couldn’t afford to be hasty. Sunny, more aware of his surroundings, comprehended things with greater clarity. She had already delicately explained the departure of his father, her ex-boyfriend, wanting to shield him from the unnecessary pain of the wondering, not knowing. And despite yearnings for companionship, she held the burden of guilt for Sunny’s lack of a father figure, and understood the importance of not rushing into a relationship that wasn’t genuine. Both she and Sunny deserved better, and she was determined to prioritize their well-being.

Let me know if you have any thoughts.

———

quinn hughes x fem!reader

Quinn and Reader go to their favorite diner late after a game. Probably lots of fluff, reminiscing. Possibly out of character Quinn, not too sure if he'd be into pda in front of the wags LOL.

Hovering in the distant corner, your fingers nervously toyed with the security pass draped around your neck, its edge resting just above the waistline of your jeans. A cluster of other wives and girlfriends lingered in the same vicinity, engaged in casual banter among themselves. You offered polite smiles, but there was no effort on their part to include you, nor did you make any overtures to join their conversation.

At last, you caught sight of a familiar mop of brown hair making its way down the hallway. The impulse to sprint towards him, leap into his arms, and plant an immediate kiss on his lips surged within you. However, with watchful eyes fixed on you, you opted for a more restrained approach, contenting yourself with a gentle caress of your hand against his right bicep. "Great game, Quinn."

A puzzled expression settles on his face, seemingly oblivious to the attention directed your way, or perhaps indifferent to it. His calloused hands find their place on your waist, guiding you closer as he dips his head low to meet your lips. Your fingers intertwine around his neck, and as his towering figure elevates you slightly off the ground, he murmurs, "Thank you, baby."

An orchestra of 'awws' surrounds you, a symphony of approval that bathes your cheeks in warmth. Quinn, charmed by your bashful response, lets out a chuckle, drawing you back into the protective embrace of his side. As he ushers both of you towards the back door, he bids the women farewell with a casual, "Goodnight, ladies," leaving the echo of their admiration suspended in the air.

"Goodbye, Quinn!" Their voices lingered with a touch of wistful admiration. You couldn't help but notice the collective enchantment Quinn seemed to cast on them. It wasn't entirely surprising—your boyfriend possessed a magnetic blend of boyish charm and dorky allure that had a way of rendering anyone weak in the knees. Since being crowned captain and amassing a string of victories, his newfound confidence only added to his undeniable sex appeal.

The night air nips at the exposed skin, coaxing you to cling closer to Quinn's comforting frame. As you approach the car, the two of you reluctantly break apart. "Do you want me to drive?" Quinn shakes his head with an easy smile, planting a tender kiss on your forehead before courteously opening the passenger side door for you.

You smoothly slide into the car, and Quinn secures the door behind you. With a jog to the driver's side, he swiftly settles into the seat, key in the ignition. Your hand instinctively reaches for the heat controls, but Quinn, ever attentive, beats you to it. After ensuring your seatbelt is on, he rests his hand on your thigh, the warmth of his touch contrasting the cool night air as he skillfully navigates out of the once bustling parking garage.

"Eddie's?" His voice dances just above the soft melody of the radio in the background. Tilting your head to the left, you catch his gaze for a fleeting moment before his focus returns to the road.

"Okay" You nod absentmindedly, a yawn escaping your lips as you lean your head against the window of the car.

He peers at you once more, skepticism lingering in his gaze. "Are you sure? We can just call it a night and head home if you're tired."

Your hand descends onto his, offering a reassuring squeeze. Fatigue clings to you, but the knowledge that he's hungry and wouldn't eat if you went home propels you forward. "I want to go out with you, Quinn."

A grin overtakes his lips, and he brings your hand up to his mouth, peppering a kiss against your palm.

Let me know your thoughts if you have any.

———

dawson mercer x juniper hughes (fem!oc) (luke's twin)

Remember last halloween when I floated around the idea of dawson x hughes sister. I started it, barely a sliver into the universe. I also know very little about dawson other than I think he's an absolute cutie pie, so I'll have to do some research for this series for sure. Will deal with heavy topics such as alcoholism, addiction, etc, so if that is triggering for you, this may not be the series for you, please take care of yourself, love you.

Juniper Hughes was no stranger to the judgmental eyes. They seemed to trail her everywhere she went, the invisible weight of societal expectations bearing down on her, reminding her both of who her family was and who she wasn't. While her brothers excelled as perfect, professional athletes, following in her parents' footsteps, she had been on a different journey—one of recovery from alcoholism after her expulsion from school due to underage drinking.

Twelve long years of arduous study, relentless commitment to extracurricular activities, unending string of tests, and the suffocating pressure of expectations—Juniper endured it all. Only one fateful night was enough to strip away everything she'd worked for. In the blink of an eye, her scholarship to Brown University was lost, her only friend torn from her, and her dignity shattered into pieces. The ruthless media, once her cheerleaders, rapidly transformed into her tormentors, subjecting her to a public shaming campaign for her mistakes, constantly drawing odious comparisons with her accomplished brothers. The intrusive question hung heavily in the air, echoing endlessly: where had her parents gone wrong with her?

Why was she so deeply flawed while her brothers seemed to glide through life unburdened? Why couldn't she manage a regular relationship-whether it was with alcohol, food, or people, but they could? Juniper's life had always been marked by relentless effort, a result of sheer necessity. Unlike her brothers, nothing seemed to come naturally to her—school, sports, it all required double the hard work just to lag two steps behind them. Alcohol served as her escape, a means to shed the heavy cloak of perfectionism that enveloped her. It provided release, a fleeting respite from her self-imposed pressures. Juniper enjoyed the person she became when she drank, but the mornings after, the ensuing guilt and repercussions, they ruined her.

"Cleaned out the guest bedroom for you, Twinny," Luke's voice is gentle as he opens the bedroom door, ushering you inside. Juniper offers him a nod, accompanied by a faint smile, and steps into the room. It's devoid of any distinctive character, featuring only four white walls, a simple bed, and a closet. As she walks around, she can't help but grimace, the stark emptiness of the room triggering memories of your time in the rehab center.

Juniper gracefully lowers herself onto the edge of the bed, her fingers delicately tracing the intricate designs on the black and white duvet. Luke and Jack linger in the doorway, observing her with wordless, almost reverent gazes, as if any sound might shatter the fragile stillness of the room. She clears her throat, then turns her gaze toward her brothers. "Thanks."

While this fic will deal with heavy topics, I don't want this entire series to be super depressing, so I'll try and add equal amounts fluff!!

———

jack hughes x fem!reader

Part of the Bless the Broken Road series. Jack gets the kids up and takes them to school for the first time without readers help. Super fluffy. Might completely rewrite it, though.

"Hey, wake up." Y/N shakes Jack awake, her hand pressing into his shoulder as she takes a seat on the edge of the bed next to him.

Jack groans, stirring in his sleep, his eyes squinting open to meet her chocolate brown gaze.

"Remember, school starts at 8, kids need to be up by 7, and you need to be out the door no later than 7:45."

Y/N leaned down to plant a tender kiss on his forehead before straightening up. With grace, she retrieved her phone from the dresser and picked up her coat hanging from the back of the door. "Yeah, I know, I got it, baby," he dismissed, though when Y/N glanced back at him, his eyelids had drooped shut once more.

She flicks his cheek. "Don't fall back asleep!"

She was well aware of Jack's exhaustion, considering he had a late game last night that went into overtime. However, she had a scheduled meeting with a contractor at the bakery early in the morning, which meant Jack had to shoulder the responsibility of taking the twins to school.

Smacking her finger away, he forced his eyes open once more and sat up, leaning against the headboard. "I'm up." He rasps, "now go before you're late."

She gives him a knowing look, shaking her head. "Call me if you need anything."

"We'll be fine." He assures.

Things were definitely not fine. Jack couldn't pinpoint when or how it happened, but at some indeterminate moment, he'd drifted back into sleep, only to be roused by a gentle poking on his forehead and a soft voice by his side. He blinked his eyes open, finding his youngest son, Adler, right in front of him, his lips curved into a pout.

"Where's mommy?" Adler asks.

Jack's eyes shoot wide open, and he promptly sits up, his gaze fixed on the alarm clock perched atop the dresser, which displayed the time as 7:36. With a swift hand running through his tousled brown hair, he mutters a curse under his breath. Adler instinctively takes a step back as Jack moves abruptly, his tiny hands fidgeting nervously, forming knots of unease in front of him.

Exhaling a deep breath, Jack pushed off the covers, swinging his feet to the right side of the bed. He gently grasps Adler's shoulders, using one hand to push stray curls out of his eye line, his voice soft and reassuring. "Mommy had to go to work early today,"

Adler nods. "So no school today?"

Jack shakes his head. "I'm gonna take you. Will you wake up your brother for me, please?"

He nods, and Jack breaks into a grin, pulling Adler into a tight hug. With a gentle lift, Jack stands up, eliciting gleeful giggles from Adler as he spins them around in a circle. The sound of the child's laughter fills the quiet stillness of the house, prompting laughter of Jack's own. Setting Adler back down, the boy immediately dashes off, sprinting back to his bedroom.

———

Let me know your thoughts if you have any.

jack hughes x fem!reader (ex-situationship to lovers??)

Months ago, when Jack had insisted that you attend your first hockey game when the season started, he had presented you with one of his jerseys. It had ended up tucked away in the back of your closet, gathering dust and fading into oblivion. In fact, you'd nearly forgotten about it altogether. However, the morning after your conversation with Luke, a sudden thought about what to wear to the game had crossed your mind. You were certain of one thing: you had no intention of donning Jack's jersey. You did briefly consider asking Luke for one, but that would have been counterproductive since he shared the same last name as him. Instead, you were determined to indulge in a little pettiness.

On that particular day, you impulsively ordered a Red Wings jersey from eBay. It happened to be Moritz Seider's jersey, though you didn't really know much about him, or whether he was still actively playing or not. Frankly, you didn't care. You had no intention of cheering for the Red Wings, you simply saw the purchase as a final "fuck you" to Jack Hughes.

Reader and Jack "breakup" and so she wears a different jersey to a game to spite him. Jack gets jealous, yada yada you can probably guess the vibes.

———

trevor zegras x fem!reader (bookstore owner)

Trevor comes into readers bookshop a couple times a week, begging to take her out on a date. Might turn into a 3 times he asked and the 1 time she said yes type thing. Not sure!

"Go on a date with me." Your gaze transitions from the non-fiction books that you were presently shelving to the tall blonde on your right. He regards you with eager anticipation, awaiting your response, although it seems to be no different from all the previous rejections you've given him.

"Don't you have anything more productive to do than pester me while I'm trying to work?" Your voice carries a tinge of irritation as you descend from the small stepladder.

He offers a nonchalant shrug, feigning innocence with an expression of mock sincerity. "Just one date."

You push your way past him, making contact with his side as you stride back toward the front desk. He tails you, mirroring your movements like a lost puppy, eventually leaning his elbows casually on the tall counter, opposite to where you take a seat behind it.

"Why must you deny this obvious chemistry?" He's teasing, his face leaning on his hand as he looks intently at you. You let out a huff of laughter, settling into the spinny chair.

"Does rejection get you off or something?"

Let me know your thoughts if you have any.

———

luke hughes x fem!reader

Reader broke up with Luke months ago, and doesn't expect to see him again, but she does, and he wants answers. Angsty, but will probably have a happy ending.

You tried your best to move on from him, putting in every ounce of effort you could to try and forget him. You threw yourself into your work, deliberately steered clear of the songs that held his memory, and even canceled your ESPN Plus subscription to shield yourself from the overpowering sadness that welled up whenever you saw him on the ice.

You weren't angry with him; anger had no place in your heart. After all, you were the one who had made the difficult decision to end things with him. You had asked him to leave your apartment as he struggled through sobs, his voice filled with desperation, seeking answers about what had led to the dissolution of your relationship. And despite the tears brimming in your own eyes, you didn't break down, standing your ground as he tried to challenge your conclusion.

Your sadness clung to you like a relentless shadow, casting a long and persistent gloom over your life for months. The vibrant and extroverted girl you once were seemed like a distant memory as you found solace in the confines of your home. Days passed in mechanical, robotic-like motions, each one blending into the next in a monotonous blur. Even the cheerful banter and laughter of your co-workers, which once provided a semblance of happiness, now felt like distant echoes in the cavernous emptiness of your heart. And nights were spent curled up on the couch, lost in the embrace of comforting films from your childhood, each frame a desperate attempt to escape the crushing loneliness that had become your all-encompassing reality.

You were aware it wasn't healthy, and though that knowledge weighed on you like a heavy anchor, you made no effort to climb up to the surface for air. The relentless ache in your chest, filled with sorrow and regret over losing the boy you had loved so deeply, was like a suffocating fog, clouding your vision at every turn. You couldn't go anywhere without being haunted by phantom images of him, his presence lingering like a stubborn ghost in the back of your mind.

It only got worse in the weeks leading up to the Devils vs. Red Wings game. You were aware that he would be in town, and that knowledge sent you spiraling into self-pity and uncertainty. You had deliberately steered clear of any rumors about his dating life, but your mind couldn't help but obsessively wonder whether he still missed you. Whether he mourned the loss of your relationship, or had moved on to someone better – a fear that had haunted you ever since he moved to Jersey even before the breakup.

It's a rainy Tuesday night, and you impassively make your way to Walmart with one single purpose in mind: to purchase alcohol and junk food. Your plan was simple – to watch the game and numb your sorrows with alcohol. You were fully aware of how pathetic it might seem, but at that moment, you simply don't care.

You stretch up onto your tiptoes, straining to reach a tall bottle of merlot perched on the top shelf, your shopping basket hanging from the crook of your elbow. In your haste to secure your wine, a sudden, sharp pain pierces your sternum. Your grip falters, and the basket slips from your grasp, clattering to the floor with an ear-splitting thud. One hand flies to your chest, your fingers resting on your heartbeat that pounded wildly against the thin fabric of your shirt. Disoriented, you stumble backward, the voice of a concerned stranger echoing in the distance as your vision blurs and darkness encroaches.

Let me know if you have any thoughts.

———

jack hughes x fem!reader

Jack spends the night at Readers apartment for the first time, and asks her to move in with him. Probably would be a short blurb, maybe 1k-1.5k words and under.

"You live in this building?" Jack inquires, his gaze sweeping over the aging building, a typical five-story apartment complex in dire need of renovation. You nod at him, shutting the passenger-side door as you step out.

"Is this area safe?" He inquires, his eyes lingering hesitantly on the parking lot.

You were roughly forty minutes from Jack's neighborhood, and while this area was a bit rundown and perhaps less safe, you thankfully had never encountered any issues.

"Uh, yeah," you respond, taking Jack's hand and leading him toward the entrance. After a moment of rummaging in your bag, you locate the key to the building, insert it into the lock, and swing the door open. Jack grabs the door, gesturing for you to enter first.

Your building lacked an elevator, so you faced a long climb to the fifth floor, where apartment 48B awaited.

As you unlocked the door, you visually cringed at the chaotic scene that greeted you. Clothes strewn haphazardly across the floor, dishes forming a precarious tower in the sink. You hadn't had a chance to tidy up before Jack insisted on spending the weekend in your modest abode. And although you hesitated, knowing your apartment was far from perfect, you couldn't resist any longer. You two had been dating for about a month, and he had yet to see where you lived. He'd casually mentioned it a few times, so you knew it was time to swallow your pride and invite him over.

"Sorry bout' the mess." You apologize, nearly tripping over yourself to grab a pile of clothes off the floor.

Jack runs his hand across the wall to his right, his fingers tracing the scattered nail gun holes. "What the hell happened to the wall?" he asks, furrowing his brows in concern.

You pause in your cleaning, turning to face him. "Oh, the neighbors like to get drunk and play with their nail gun. Don't stand too close." you warn, shaking your head.

———

quinn hughes x pharmacist!femreader

Nothing started for this, but my time working in a retail pharmacy has me obsessed with writing this pairing. Might make her an OC, though. I love the idea of a badass working woman who doesn't put her life on hold just because she's married to a hockey player.

———

If you're wondering about the status of Never Have I Ever, I'm gonna be honest, I may discontinue that 🫣. Sorry! I just have no motivation to write out that storyline now, but maybe sometime in the future I will.

author's note part two: Obviously this isn't all of my wips, only some, and most haven't been edited at all and a very rough drafts, but I wanted to give you a glimpse of what I have sitting in my drafts. I also have a lot of things in my inbox that I want to get written, but I have been slacking (clearly). I also wanna do some song fics because I've never done one and think that could be cool. Again, if you have any thoughts, don't hesitate to let me know.

#quinn hughes imagine #jack hughes imagine #luke hughes imagine #dawson mercer imagine #jt compher imagine #nathan mackinnon imagine #trevor zegras imagine

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amidnight--dreary · 2 months

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20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks so much for the tag @zsparz !!!💖

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

166!

2. What’s your total ao3 word count?

2.013.111. I write when I‘m stressed, can you tell?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly the MCU. Frostiron my beloved 💕 I recently posted a Huskerdust fic, though, and a couple years ago I posted some Good Omens stuff! I have another Good Omens wip brewing, but I haven‘t worked on it in a while.

4. Top five fics by kudos

First one up would be Your Call, a multi-chaptered ABO Frostiron thing that‘s sadly unfinished because I‘m not happy with where it was going somehow. Then Corners of Reality, my baby, Yes or No, Dereliktion and last but not least Vita Nova!

5. Do you respond to comments?

God I try. I’m so bad at it though. On long fics I always answer comments on the last chapter when I post the new one, but I keep forgetting to reply to comments on older chapters or oneshots😭 They all mean the world to me though.

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

Ohh I wrote a few angsty oneshots but it‘s been a while. Maybe Here, that‘s the most recent one. Of the older ones I remember all my light most clearly. Tony is dead or dying in both of these lol, poor Loki.

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

I like to think the happiest endings in stories are ones you had to fight for a little bit, so maybe Dereliktion. That was a long ride filled with angst and messed up relationships lol. I think Haywire (my first and so far only Sentinel/Guide fic, I love that trope a lot akfj) also has a pretty fluffy ending, and I have some oneshots that are pretty much all fluff!!

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Occasionally? Just the other day I got another anon ask on here complaining about my recent stories. Makes me extra thankful for everyone who takes the time to tell me they enjoy my stuff!!💖

9. Do you write smut?

I do! Pretty much all the time lol. I love writing Dom/sub relationships!

10. Craziest crossover?

I don‘t think I‘ve ever written one before?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yesss. I‘m not sure if they just didn’t know any better though, they deleted the copied parts as soon as I told them.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes!! I‘m always so happy when that happens!!

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

Also yes. One year I did a whole Frostiron Advent calendar with @rabentochter (do you remember this????? How did we have the time??????? Insane) and we wrote a few more collabs beyond that.

14. All time favorite ship?

Frostiron!!!!!!!!!!!! I love my sassy messed up geniuses lol

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

Uhhh I‘ve got a few. I‘d like to finish/rewrite Your Call. Once I also had the cracky fever dream of Loki doing random standup comedy shows in New York because he‘d KILL that. Can you imagine the sarcasm. The gallow‘s humor. Anyway I started that and then realized I Cannot Write Standup Routines at all. So there‘s that.

16. What are your writing strengths?

What I like to write the most is character and relationship development, so hopefully I‘m decent at that? Also dialogue, I hope, but that kinda comes and goes depending on the conversation.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I kinda suck thinking of longish plot that goes beyond “will they kiss?? Will they FUCK???” so I’ve been trying to practice that. Also scenes with lots of action😭

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I like it. I’ve been wanting to write a fic where Tony can properly show off his language skills but I don’t know enough languages to pull that off lol

19. First fandom you wrote in?

The VERY first was Dracula, back when I was 13 or so. I had a big thing for van Helsing back then. My first fandom on ao3 was Once Upon a Time!!

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Ooohhh. That would be Corners of Reality, because I worked on it for years before I even started posting it and I love how it turned out. It’s a slow burn time travel enemies to friends to almost lovers to enemies to friends to lovers to enemies to allies to lovers fic. I had SO much fun writing it I still think about it all the time😭😭

I’m just gonna tag some writers I know are on here: @endlessstairway @xottan @izhunny @arabesqueangel @bouncydragon no pressure though!! And if you see this and you’re a writer please consider yourself tagged!!💖

#ask game #frostiron #fic rec

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habizuh-studios · 5 days

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Looking back at some random wips is always so fun!! Here's one, actually- it's a TGCF canon compliant drabble i haven't finished in which hua cheng meets feng xin while looking for xie lian.... i was thinking about it and needed to get off my head. it's only exposition, and i was planning to make it into a crack oneshot, but yk... unfinished. anyway, as long as i got the brainworms out, it should be fine. LMK if i should continue this!! <3 :

Again. Again, and again, and again. How long until he finds him? Hua Cheng has been looking for His Highness for countless years. He’s been through thick and thin, through butterflies, Yin Yu, and other rumors. Every time he has a good feeling, and every time his luck fails him. How can he be there for His Highness if his useless luck won’t do the one good thing? His Highness, last he saw him, had been alone. Everyone he knew had left him, including himself. Originally, he was going out to clear his mind. But then he got sidetracked and his instincts took him somewhere else. To the kingdom of Yong’An. He hates this kingdom with all of his undead heart. The kingdom that had caused His Highness’ downfall, the kingdom that was ungrateful for His Highness’ efforts, which disregarded everything and anything anyone has ever done for them- a bunch of ungrateful, spoiled trash with no right to live. But his instincts take him there, so what choice does he have? Perhaps, after the State Preceptor was killed, he went to go take a look. He feels as if he’s close- he passes by a random grave, a few bushes, and walks through the gates leisurely. He is disguised as a youth, about sixteen years old, dressed in wealthy red robes with a low ponytail. He doesn’t put too much effort into this disguise, because there is only one thing that is important; His Highness, the Crowned Prince of Xianle. Everyone here is so happy. They are laughing and running and jumping and playing and singing and showing and performing and- He walks by a stand and buys a cheap steamed bun, biting into it as he turns around- but he freezes. That… that’s… That damn trash bodyguard, Feng Xin!

#tgcf #heaven officials blessing #my rambles are great i swear #tian guan ci fu #hua cheng #hualian #wu ming #feng xin #nan yang #nan feng #crack #fic #fanfic #fic treated seriously #crackkkk #yong an #>:)))

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violetsdaisy · 2 months

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Phantom of the Opera Masterlist

by violetsdaisy

The Song of the Basement

Oneshot. Rated T. Erikstine

Christine is orphaned and left in an orphanage where she hears beautiful music from the basement which follows her throughout life.

The Unfinished Race

11 chapters. Rated M. Erikstine

He had no intention of invading her life again after letting her go. Now her life is in his hands and he must protect her at all costs. The plan was to get her to safety. He should have foreseen that any plan regarding her wouldn’t play out how he had expected.

six thirty

Oneshot. Rated E. Erikstine

Christine wants to thank Erik for everything he’s done for her. Meg and Sorelli told her how. Now, she just has to put the plan into action.

Je Veux Vivre

7 chapters. Rated M. Erik/OC

Still recovering from her husband’s sudden death, Claire’s life takes another unexpected turn when a shadowed figure appears in her bedroom one night. Nadir says he knows him. Claire doesn’t want to, but fate has other plans.

Radiant Assonance (WIP)

Unfinished. Rated M. Erikstine

When Christine moved into her new apartment, happy to find her independence, she was unaware of the ghostly neighbor underneath that would just so happen to steal her heart and send her on a darker path she could ever imagine.

#separating these from my millions of ygo fics #violetsdaisy #my writing #masterlist #phanfiction #phanfic #erikstine #phantom Erik #erik x christine #erik x oc #christine daae #phics #phantom of the opera #poto

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iamstartraveller776 · 7 months

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20 Questions for Fic Writers

Snagged this from @curator-on-ao3!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?:

110. However, if I count the oneshots individually, it's actually 152. (This does not include 4 other stories that are archived on old Trek sites. This also does not include the 5 stories that I've moved to the Anonymous collection.)

2. What's your total AO3 word count?:

613,518

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Star Trek: TOS/AOS/Disc

Star Trek: Enterprise

Labyrinth (1986)

Marvel Cinematic Universe

Once Upon a Time

Shadow and Bone

Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power

(I also briefly dabbled with Tom Hiddleston and David Bowie RPF back in the day—the stuff that's in the Anonymous archive).

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The Princess and the King (Labyrinth, Jareth and Sarah, T)

Text Alert (MCU, Loki/Jane Foster, T)

Intoxicated [Rewritten] (Star Trek, Sarek/Amanda Grayson, T)

Drunk Dial (Labyrinth, Jareth/Adult Sarh, T)

Touch (MCU, Loki/Jane Foster, T)

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

Yes. Sometimes it takes me a while to reply, but I always try to. I'm so grateful to anyone who takes the time to leave me a comment. (Also, I'm a 20 year fandom veteran, and back in the day it was considered the norm to reply to comments.)

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I write a lot of oneshots, so there are quite a few with unhappy endings, lol. What comes to mind is Honor Above All Else (OUAT, Robin Hood/Regina Mills, G). OH WAIT. No, it's got to be Just a Dream (Labyrinth, Jareth/Adult Sarah, M).

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

Maybe Three Months on Vulcan (Star Trek ENT, Trip/T'Pol, T)?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Only once. Back in the day, there were some antis who were super offended when we kept shipping Regina and Robin Hood (OUAT) when his wife came back from the dead (which turned out not to be his wife). Someone left a review on a fic that I was supporting infidelity and I was a horrible person. I deleted the comment. Ain't nobody got time for trolls. ;)

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

I have very, very few M-rated stories. Usually I just pan to the sky, but when I don't, it's because I feel it serves the story somehow and it's generally more poetry and emotion than descriptions of the mechanics.

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

Only twice. The funnest one is When Fairy Tale Meets Mythology (OUAT/MCU, Loki/Jane Foster, Emma Swan/Killian Jones, T).

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of, but these days, I wouldn't be surprised.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I was asked a couple of times, but never got the links of the finished product. *shrug*

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

Oh, yeah. I've done round-robins, fandom Big Bangs, etc. Not recently though.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

That's like asking me to pick a favorite child (and I happen to have six of those). You can't make me!

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

Want to finish but probably won't? Maybe my unfinished Outlaw Queen stories?

16. What are your writing strengths?

Oneshots. I can short-story like a champ.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Finishing multi-chapter stories. Ugh.

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

I've done it, though I've tried to keep it to a minimum, making sure it serves a purpose. I also try to make it easy to guess the meaning with context and always, always include the translation in the end notes. OH. And if it's a real language (unlike Vulcan), I try to get the help of a native speaker rather than rely on Google Translate.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Star Trek: Enterprise.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

That's another hard one to pin down. Here, I'll give you my favorite fic for each fandom:

Through the Dark Mirror Series (ST:ENT, Trip/T'Pol, T)*

A New Perspective (ST:TOS/AOS/DISC, Sarek/Amanda, G)

Pertinacious Wills (Labyrinth, Jareth/Adult Sarah, T)*

Touch (MCU, Loki/Jane Foster, T)

Songs Beneath the Stars (OUAT, Emma/Killian, T)

The Worth of a Broken Soul (OUAT, Robin/Regina, T)*

That Which Blooms in Stillness (SAB, Aleksander/Alina, T)

We Are (TROP, Halbrand|Sauron/Galadriel, G)

*Yes, these stories are currently incomplete and on hiatus indefinitely, but that doesn't stop me from loving what I created. I hope to get back to them one day!

Tagging: EVERYONE! If you want to play, consider yourself tagged by me. I'd love to read your answers! ❤️

#fic writer questions #20 fic writer questions #come and play #about me #ask game

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word-wytch · 7 months

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✏ 20 Questions For Fic Writers

Thank you for the tags @the-unforgivenn and @wroteclassicaly 💋✨

1) How many works do you have on AO3? - 5

2) What’s your total AO3 word count? - Roughly 120k at a glance

3) What fandoms do you write for? - Stranger Things, but truly just Eddie Munson

4) What are your top five fics by kudos? - I only have 5 🥴

5) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? - I do try to respond to as many as I can, especially the very thoughtful ones. It all depends on the amount of spoons I have at the time. Engaging with my readers is really important to me. It makes me feel like we are embarking on an adventure together and the community aspect of writing fanfiction incredibly rewarding. I've made so many friends. 🥹

6) What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? - I don't tend to write angsty endings. There is enough angst in the rest of it, trust me.

7) What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? - Probably Entre Nous, because that was my only other series. My current series is not finished but it will definitely end happily.

8) Do you get hate on fics? - Surprisingly no. And I say surprisingly because the trope in the main series I've been writing is pretty taboo. Only one comment truly stands out to me as hate and it was regarding my use of figurative language lmao.

9) Do you write smut? If so, what kinds? - My smut tends to be pretty vanilla but the tones are very different depending on what the scene is truly about.

10) Do you write crossovers? Not yet!

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen? - Thankfully no, or at least not that I'm aware of.

12) Have you ever had a fic translated? - No

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before? - No

14) What’s your all time favorite ship? - Eddie Munson and all of us

15) What’s a WIP that you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? - I have a few unfinished WIPs and many ideas, but I haven't closed any doors yet. The one I would like to finish most of all is my Ren Faire Eddie oneshot.

16) What are your writing strengths? - Dialogue, characterization, immersive descriptions, cadence, figurative language, insight, motifs, showing vs telling, story structure.

17) What are your writing weaknesses? - My creative (lol) use of punctuation, understanding where to end a paragraph and start a new one, filter words like "he looked at ___", describing moments that involve a lot of action in interesting ways rather than a just laundry list of "he did this, he did that" which I have actually made tremendous improvements upon. I find it helpful to ask myself "how was it?" rather than just "then what did he do?"

18) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? - I'm confused by this question. My impulse would be to say write in whatever language you want but does this mean like, the body of the work is in English and some dialogue is in French for example? Confused.

19) First fandom you wrote for? - House MD when I was like 13

20) Favorite fic you’ve written? - My infant child that turns one year old tomorrow: Don't Stand So Close to Me

No pressure tags ✨ @rip-quizilla @munson-blurbs @vintagehellfire @jo-harrington @carolmunson @blueywrites @alottanothing @chaoticgood-munson @corroded-hellfire @hellfirehottie420 @deathbecomesthem @bettyfrommars @storiesbyrhi @keeponquinning

#tag game #about me #20 questions

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saintofdaggers · 2 months

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I promise I'll go back to my current unfinished WIPs soon, but until then... I tried to write a little toxic yuri doodle as a treat after some writer's block, and it turned into a proper oneshot. so. enjoy my first attempt at a Shotgunshipping fic, I guess?

#saw fanfic #sawposting #saw iii #lynn denlon #amanda young #shotgunshipping #lynnmanda #my writing

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little-box-of-wonders · 7 months

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20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks for the tag @grexigone! n.n

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

33 as of Nov. 15, 2023

2. What's your total A03 word count?

135,824 words

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Only Horizon (Zero Dawn/Forbidden West) for now.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

To Know Peace: 103 kudos (Rated T) - First longfic

Live for the Night: 88 kudos (Rated E) - First smut fic

Bonding Moments: 83 kudos (Rated G) - Companion vignettes fic for To Know Peace

Devotion: 79 kudos (Rated E) - Kinktober 2023 drabbles collection

Visual Delights: 77 kudos (Rated E) - Fun, smutty 5+1 oneshot

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

I do! Comments mean that someone took the time to read my fic and something stuck with them enough to tell me about it. It makes me feel appreciated, and I want my readers to feel appreciated in turn. :3

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oof, probably Shadowed Heart, which is my first rare pair fic (Fashav/Ritakka). I promise to give them a happier ending in my series.

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

I'd say To Know Peace has the happiest ending so far.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I got a couple of comments on Bonding Moments about some choices I'd made that rubbed me the wrong way, but I haven't gotten hate publicly or privately. I think it helps that Horizon is still relatively small in the fanfic/fanart space and I don't share my ship-specific fics on the subreddit for the games.

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

I do and I have no shame, hehe. It's mostly M/F and very light on kinks. Other than my Kinktober drabbles, the raunchiest fic I've written is Early Exit.

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

No crossovers. They're kinda tricky to get right.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

To my knowledge, no, but I haven't checked FF.net or Wattpad to confirm.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope. Spanish is my native language, but I have no plans to translate my fics from English to Spanish.

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

@jadefyre and I have a smut fic in the works that we started earlier this year. Also, not co-written but @murmart made a beautiful art of Fashav/Ritakka for my fic Heavy in Your Arms. :3

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Definitely Aloy/Kotallo. Not only did seeing their dynamic and conjuring up ship possibilities get me to write again after a long hiatus, but it's also allowed me to become part of a community of amazing creators both in the Kotaloy Elysium Discord server and beyond. n.n

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I don't necessarily think I'll leave any of my WIPs unfinished, but some are a little more complicated than others in terms of getting them to meet my own standards (yeah, I'm my harshest critic).

With longfics, I've since learned to write until completion and then start posting, only because I don't enjoy the self-imposed pressure to update something that's already out there since life can be really uncertain at times.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue! It takes me such a long time, but I love nailing the voices of the characters correctly and having readers comment on that and their characterization. However, I do find speeches a bit cumbersome to write because every word has so much weight to them, even though I do enjoy the end result.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I struggle with describing environments/settings, because I never know if I'm being descriptive enough to paint a full picture for the reader.

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

I think if it's a few sentences here and there is fine, but anything else might make it inaccessible to part of the readership unless it's stated in the author's note that the fic will feature two or more different languages.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Horizon, though I wrote a (thankfully never published) fic for Final Fantasy VII when I was around 13 years-old; trust me, it wasn't good and I still cringe thinking about the plot. HOWEVER, I miss that feeling of writing without caring about the end result, of just having a deluge of words on paper with a somewhat coherent narrative thread.

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

It's hard to pick only one because all of my fics are special in their own way, but I'll go with Hurricane Drunk because I had so much fun describing Kotallo being drunk and struggling with confessing his feelings for Aloy in a humorous way.

Tagging @setavvo, @fogsblue, @hannahmationstudios, @destinysembrace-oblivion and @mwasaw. (No pressure! Only if you want to).

#personal #fanfic writer ask #ask game #fanfiction #writing

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broomsticks · 1 year

Note

heyy do you know any good sub!remus wolfstar fics? feel free to ignore for any reason obvsly

ao3 search for wolfstar + sub remus - dom remus turns up 39 fics (i wanted to exclude switchy fics), and 11 more were alternatively tagged bottom remus + Dom/sub! (top/bottom tagging alone turned up mostly things with little to no D/s dynamic in the smut)

i also focused solely on fics where wolfstar—and wolfstar only no poly—was the main/only pairing.

anyway, recs! went through all the above results and reccing these for a combination of personal taste and range, because smut fic—and smutty D/s fic especially—can be such a matter of taste. these are mostly canon-setting soft dom sirius with hurt/comfort vibes, being-taken-care-of remus pov, but there are a handful that are not!

shortish mostly pwp:

Bonds by @wanderingbandurria (2.5k, E) loving extreme kink — rope bondage, impact play, degradation and praise in a LLAL. remus POV, lots of sub space and fantasies.

The wolf submits by @tracingpatternswrites (5k, E), post-hogwarts, restraint, soft aftercare, remus pov.

hold me until the rapture by @fvckyouimaprophet (3.5k, E) post-moon, hurt/comfort, remus pov.

The Rivers of Your Palms by estas_absentis (5k, E) a first war fic: a gentle welcome after remus returns from spying on the wolves. remus pov

Unconditional by Kidhuzural (7k, E) insecure self-conscious remus, gentle reassuring dom sirius. remus pov.

some more moon-related pwp oneshots: When the Moon was Too Close by Dibsanddabs and A Small Favour by 3SnailsInATrenchCoat are both 3k hogwarts-era remus pov.

Right there beside you by Esinde Nayrall (red_squared) (8k, E) remus is injured, sirius dresses in a nurse uniform, kind of sort of unnegotiated roleplay hahaha. remus pov

•

you were a vision in the morning, when the light came through by SpiltScribbles (5k, E) a fun hogwarts era romp, sirius pov

Sunday Morning by @sweetpeasandlilies (3k, E), unspecified post-hogwarts, cohabitation, sweet morning sex, sirius pov

Need by NachoDiablo (1.5k, E) painplay, overstim, dacryphilia, praise, sirius pov!

You're Still Mine by momstiel (1.5k, E) jealous dommy sirius pov.

Come here by Genderenvygobrrr (1k, M) hogwarts era, woof major daddy kink! sirius pov

•

This Thing Between Us by @nikialexx (8k, E), modern au age gap wolfstar with sugar baby remus; remus pov

You Can Have It All by asumiko (2.5k, E) dacryphilia, sadistic dom sirius, but tender. muggle university au, remus pov

Call Me By Your Name by whimsihorror (4k, E): another muggle university au, ? head hopping ish?

Alondere also has lots of works in this tag: pole-dancing stripper!remus, hogwarts era exhibitionism, ✨toxic wolfstar✨and it’s glorious (deranged levels of possessiveness, murder (of other people), extreme kink)

longer fics:

well not so much plotty but worldbuilding-y/vibesy: @eyra has several muggle au with a historical feel: a painter!remus in berlin, a countryside manor british aristocrat summer, and a sequel of sorts

Subatomic by @ebp-brain (23k, E): Remus goes to a sex shop looking for a line of items called SUBATOMIC: TOYS FOR THE BOTTOM WITHOUT A TOP. He finds a top there, too.

under the blood moon by @fvckyouimaprophet (30k, E, WIP): dark marauders magical/bluegrass band au!

Of Quiet Hearts And Thundering Dreams by @tracingpatternswrites (47k, E) single parents wolfstar get-together!

Under Your Skin Again by BasPer (10k, E): the definition of porn with plot, a first war antagonists to lovers/getting back together fic. same author also has a royalty au pet play (prince!sirius, prisoner/unwilling pet!remus) fic that’s 40k, unfinished, and not updated since 2021, but otherwise a great take on the kink!

#wolfstar #hp fics #my fic recs #fic rec list #pov tagging is mostly for myself hahaha #me and my working hypothesis that positions in smutfic have just as much if not more to do with pov than characterization headcanons #also ❤️ ty for the consideration! i don’t have any blanket will-not-reads! nicher kinks and darker tropes are especially fun to rec for!

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akirameta84 · 1 year

Text

idk when or if ill finish this and ive had a habit of sharing my unfinished wip fics lately so heres the sequel to the werewolf au oneshot i wrote (and that i also shared the first part of months before i finished and posted it to ao3 lol)

id say its a bit under halfway done? idk. it follows directly after the last oneshot and may be confusing without it. and its an unfinished fic so you wont be missing anything if you just wait for it to eventually be finished and published (even if it might be a year rip)

but yeah. this is the first half or so wip of "Howling Harassment" sequel to the kubosai werewolf oneshot "Lycanthropic Liasons"

has not been edited or proofread obviously cause its not even done

its 5.3k words, and warning for vomiting mentions. if you want to skip the mini scene where kusuo is sick (he doesnt puke in the scene but talks about having done so) ive bolded the start and end of it. you wont be missing any plot details with it, but this wip preview does end shortly after it with just a paragraph so if you plan to skip that scene you can just stop reading at the first bolded part and be fine

enjoy i guess

also my italics didnt copy over so :shrug: place them where you think they go

Kusuo had been enjoying a very nice nap, relaxing peacefully and soaking in some warm sunshine, when the feeling of something wet dripping onto him slowly roused him from his slumber.

He blearily opened one eye but then immediately snapped both open when he caught sight of the tan wolf, shockingly with a normal looking chin, leaning over him and drooling all over his face. Recoiling and lurching to his paws in the same beat, he stumbled a good few meters away from Nendou, standing tensely in the grass.

They were right outside the makeshift and, honestly, poorly constructed hideout of Kaidou and Aren’s, and Kusuo had thought that if he took a nap outside he could both enjoy the sun on his fur and separate himself from Nendou, since the idiot would likely be enthralled by Kaidou and Aren attempting to play card games with paws.

Apparently Kusuo had been very very wrong. He sat down hard into the dirt and reached a back leg to scratch painfully at his head, like it would help get all the saliva off of him even though he knew it wouldn’t.

Nendou had been staring at him the whole time until a deep bark from the hideout entrance sounded, calling his attention. Aren’s deep purple and very furry but scarred head stuck out from the door made of blankets and glared at Nendou, having heard Kusuo’s mental distress. Nendou whimpered but strutted over to the entrance and headed inside.

In regards to the werewolf telepathy, since they were unsure if Nendou could hear them, attempting verbal communication without the ability to speak words was necessary to try and talk to the idiot who had also found himself lycanthropic by unknown means. At least they knew where he was now and Kusuo could fix any problems his disappearance has started to cause.

Kusuo was slightly worried as well that, due to the fact that he was missing all of the last week, Nendou couldn’t turn back like Kaidou and Aren had at first. Kusuo had been able to teach them by just instructing them through how he usually activated his shape-shifting, and it had thankfully done the trick.

He was still hoping that Nendou could hear their trains of thought even if they were blocked from his. He’d shown no signs of it, but this was Nendou. He could be hearing everything and not give a single clue.

Either way, it was still absolutely bizarre to have someone (Or up to three someones) reading his mind for a change, even if the fact that he didn’t have to bother with proper communication as much was pleasant.

‘It’s still bizarre to me that you’ve heard all of our thoughts up to now from when you met us, Kusuo.’

Yeah. That was fair. Kusuo lifted his head and gazed at the darkening sky that was many shades of orange and pink as the sun gradually lowered into the horizon. It was rather pretty and almost soothing to stare at. It’d been decently bright and blue when he’d gone to sleep, so he’d gotten a good few hours in.

That was good. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to sleep once he went back home and dealt with what would be waiting for him. There was no way his brother had already gone from England to Japan in under twelve hours, even if their mom calling about limiter issues was fairly serious, but he’d still get harassed via television video call from his brother and either wait in dread for his brother to fly over or just teleport himself and get it over with.

Both sucked.

‘I think you’re over reacting. Surely your brother didn’t literally create something that turns people into werewolves. That sounds impossible. To be fair, so does being born an esper, but still.’

‘…B-but how else did it get…created?’

Kaidou was very bad at hiding his excitement at the concept of a mad scientist making something like lycanthropy, even if he posed his question as.

And also how he wondered if Kusuo’s brother could make him into a vampire instead, because when he watched a movie series called- ‘Hey stop stop sto-’

Kusuo snorted but obliged and cut that train of thought off, standing up and padding over to the hideout entrance.

Regardless, the answer was very much no to Kaidou, there really was no other potential source, and yes to Aren. Kuusuke was most certainly behind this and Kusuo was either going to make him fix it or commit fratricide.

‘…Can you…m-maybe-’

‘If he makes a cure I’m not letting you stay like this, Kaidou.’

Kusuo arrived at the blanket covering and stepped inside right on cue to see Kaidou’s best attempt at a canine frown and puppy eyes…the latter of which was quite a lot more effective in a literal dog form than it normally was for the boy seated on a pillow in the very corner of the hideout, front paws splayed over a bunch of cards on the carpeted ground in front of him.

He looked away before the eyes could take effect. He was getting far too soft and was not about to consider willingly keeping one of his friends a goddamn werewolf when he could reverse it.

When. Not if. Kusuo kept making sure he left no room for doubt in his mind. That way it would be easier to kill Kuusuke if he failed to make a totally guaranteed cure.

Aren was padding back over to the light blue wolf, a sulking Nendou in tow, and though Kusuo’s thoughts had already spelled out for the two of them that he was about to go home and get the confrontation or whatever over with, he still had one more pressing issue to attempt to solve beforehand.

‘Nendou,’ He projected outwards, staring at him as if it would help get his message across, taking a few more steps on the frankly uncomfortably textured carpet.

To his slight shock, the tan wolf spun his head around so quickly he feared Nendou would break his neck (A familiar sight, Nendou did that far too much, even if it had less of an impact without the…mildly disturbing human face), tongue lolling out of his mouth as he watched Kusuo expectantly.

Aren and Kaidou looked up, intrigued, their minds similarly surprised that Nendou could hear their minds just fine.

…Could he? There was a chance that had been Kusuo’s own inherent telepathy as it was hard to tell the two versions apart, unlike the ease at which he could separate the lycanthropic ability and his own shape-shifting.

If it was his own and the idiot couldn’t hear Kaidou or Aren that wasn’t that much of an issue. Kusuo was the one who needed to help him turn back, after all.

(Considering the fact that Nendou didn’t visibly react to any of Kusuo’s ambient thoughts about that, actually, Nendou was not connected to the werewolf telepathy. He can only hear projected thoughts from Kusuo’s. Kaidou seemed utterly fascinated by that, while Aren was just mildly annoyed at how it was so complicated. Kusuo was in agreement with his boyfriend, and not just because of that status).

Nendou’s head tilted after the good few moments of staring, and Kusuo realized he should probably elaborate on why he got his attention before he was licked or pounced on again.

‘Do you want me to show you how to turn back tomorrow?’

He almost offered to do it right now but remembered, bitterly, that they were all stuck like this for a good while longer thanks to the moon cycle.

To his surprise, Nendou responded by shaking his head no, slobber flailing from his tongue as he did so. He heard Kaidou yelp as a drop landing in his eye, according to his thoughts.

That was…not the expected or desired answer at all. Kusuo wished he could just ask why straight up, but he would just go through the options instead.

Aren had sat down facing the two of them, even though Nendou was still turned away from Kusuo and looking back with his head, face far too amused to be anything but smug.

‘I bet he’s going to already know how to-’

‘You’re jumping ahead in the narrative, shut up.’

‘…I’m what?’

Kusuo firmly decided to ignore him. Kaidou could probably use some help putting all the playing cards away, he not so subtly thought of but didn’t directly project as he looked over and saw the small wolf in question pushing around the cards with his paws to try and get them all in a small stack again.

Aren just rolled his eyes but turned away to assist, and Kusuo gave his attention back to the ever still and rapt Nendou.

Seriously, he kind of wished that Nendou had lost interest in their one-sided conversation during the decently sized breaks in it. That would be less creepy.

‘Are you saying no because you already know how?’ He asked next, using purely his own deductive reasoning and nothing else.

‘You are really something special, babe.’

Kusuo shifted in place, annoyed, as Nendou nodded. There was no bothering with asking why the fuck he had stayed like this a week when there wouldn’t be a reply. He just huffed out a breath of air and asked one last question.

‘Will you please turn back and be human again by tomorrow?’

Nendou unflinchingly nodded at the downright angry tone of Kusuo’s, finally spinning around fulling and raising a front paw up, curling it and uncurling it awkwardly.

Was that supposed to be a thumbs up? Probably. He could only guess that it was because the idiot tended to give so many of those normally.

Kusuo nodded to himself and walked away, putting as much space between him and Nendou as he could in the small hideout, ending up next to the other two slightly less idiotic wolves.

‘Slightly!? It’s more than just slightly!’

Aren just chortled.

‘Do you want help getting home before I go, Kaidou? I can teleport you and then make your family perceive you as human if they happen to see you before you’re able to change back. And, of course, make your disappearance today nonexistent.’

There was a worrying hesitation before Kaidou replied, his snout twisting awkwardly as if he were trying to bite at his lip, and he paused in gently nudging a few cards to the side and merging them with the growing stack. Kusuo used his telekinesis to grab them all and order them neatly into a stack, floating them straight into the box.

Kaidou blinked at him, startled but grateful, but refocused his mind quickly.

‘A-actually I want to. Uh…t-tell them. I don’t want to hide it forever and it would just be…easier. To tell them.’

Huh. Kusuo had heard Kaidou’s mind dance on that possibility, but it had been thought about so little that he hadn’t expected the boy to actually decide on that course of action in the end.

‘…I hope it goes well, then. Do you still want help getting home right now or will you wait?’

‘I’ll w-wait with Aren. Get some nerves out. And go home when we’re back.’

‘Very well.’

Kaidou and Aren had taken to keeping spare clothes in the hideout, so that plan would work just fine for them. Kusuo had no need, he could just teleport freely around those two since his secret wasn’t secret between them. And, in all honesty…it felt nice to have have a friend closer than Aiura or Toritsuka know, as well as someone even closer but not family.

But for now he also was definitely not telling any other friends. Not until he was ready to actually do it on his own terms for once.

Kusuo turned around and walked towards the exit of the hideout despite not needing to in order to head home, but it somehow felt more polite to leave this way and then teleport.

‘I’ll see you guys tomorrow, then.’

Kaidou and Aren seemed baffled that he’d said farewell which was rather fair since he never gave those or said hello much at all, but responded in kind themselves.

Before he could make it all the way out, though, footsteps sprinted towards him, and he didn’t have much time to react before Aren shoved his face against Kusuo’s, rubbing them together like he was a cat instead of a wolf.

Aren’s expression was far too innocent afterwards as he drew back and somehow grinned, and Kusuo rolled his eyes and turned away, keeping his body but most importantly his stupid tail with a mind of its own still as warmth bloomed in his chest, grateful his face couldn’t flush like this.

He continued walking moments after, only not doing something to be polite and reciprocate because he needed to leave and not because the prospect of doing so like this was embarrassing.

He briefly wanted to strangle Aren when he heard his mental chuckle at his denial.

As soon as he had fully crossed through the blanketed doorway, tail and all, Kusuo gathered his energy and teleported to his bedroom, a location so familiar he didn’t even need to conjure the image in his head to travel to it.

And, as soon as all four of his legs landed on his bedroom floor, his television turned on and his brother’s ugly face filled the screen, telepathy canceler adorning his long blonde hair, some of it covering his left eye and the rest of it in a ponytail, despite Kusuo being nowhere close enough to read his mind. He bared his teeth at the image and intentionally raised his hackles.

It took less than a second of being home for his brother to make an entrance.

Fifty six milliseconds, to be precise.

Kuusuke sniffled, feigning sadness as his tinny voice sounded through the speakers, “I can’t believe my own baby brother is so angry at me paying him a pseudo visit. How upsetting, after mom called me so worried about you and everything…”

Kusuo just sat on his floor and glared at the television, making eye contact not with Kuusuke’s image, but with the camera perched very visibly on top of the television.

His brother knew he’d be slaughtered if he had cameras permanently installed in Kusuo’s or their parent’s bedrooms. But he’d been barely spared when he added one to his TV that only activated when he was video calling, and the living and dining rooms got actual full-time cameras.

“Hmph, no response? Not even a rude comment?” His brother paused purposefully and smugly, “Oh, wait, you can’t respond! Without your telepathy, since even with my lovely canceler I’m still far out of range, you can’t speak like that.”

A teasing glint entered his brother’s visible eye as Kusuo continued to glare, unimpressed, “Or can you? Come on, can you speak, Kusuo? Speak? Like a good dog?”

He had to put physical effort into swallowing his growl, because that would have almost given Kuusuke exactly what he wanted. His bedroom sat in silence as they had an impromptu, or really, with his brother, expected competition to see who’s resolve gave first.

Kuusuke didn’t bother to try very hard, giving up with a shrug quickly because as much as he liked to make fun of his brother and attempt to win at every little thing, proper competition or not, they shared the same trait of impatience.

Kusuo’s patience was better overall, though. It had to be, growing up with his powers and all.

“I will say, it is a lot harder to decipher what you want to say like this. I’ve mastered your blank human expression, obviously, but I am very much not a canine person. Maybe I should have made werecats instead…”

Kusuo didn’t even bother to hide his growl that time, narrowing his eyes and translating his words clearly enough that his brother was easily able to garner the meaning when given more information than an empty glare.

“Oh? Am I responsible for you and your friend’s predicament? Obviously. To be completely truthful, though, you were never supposed to find out, and you were especially not supposed get infected yourself.”

Kusuo tilted his head to the side, keeping his eyes narrowed to hopefully keep his skepticism clear.

His brother laughed at first, “Aw, you look adorable like that. It barely looks like you’re angry,” Kusuo snapped his head back up instantly, “But no, I am not lying. That’s why I kidnapped and gave the virus to your brainless friend initially, so you wouldn’t hear any thoughts about it.”

Kuusuke paused to wave a hand dismissively at the question Kusuo didn’t even try to ask, anticipating the obvious.

“I never left London and your friend never left Japan, either. I had robots kidnap and inject him with the serum I had mailed to a private lab I own in the area beforehand. It was easier and I had no risk of getting infected myself. What I failed to realize is that your little pet idiot could break out of a room made of solid steel walls and take off the tracking collar in the process.”

The screen briefly flickered to an image of, presumably, the room Nendou had been held in. There was a large hole in one of the gray, metal walls, opening straight into the outside, and the image barely lasted a few seconds before his brother was back in view.

Ah. Kusuo didn’t think that was possible either, but this was Nendou they were talking about, who has done countless other inhuman feats like his stunt in the school marathon. If Kusuo didn’t know any better, he’d say that Nendou also had psychic abilities.

“Anyways, I’m sure you’re wanting my help with this…issue of yours?” Kuusuke questioned, not leaving room for Kusuo to respond before continuing.

Not that Kusuo would have replied anyways, but the implications were still rude.

“Why don’t you teleport over here right away and let me have a look? I have to admit, much to my shame… I have no way of making a cure without seeing the biological structure of the transformed state first. Otherwise I might be reverting things that are actually a part of your human body.”

That was the biggest pile of bullshit Kusuo had ever heard, and his eye roll only conveyed a tiny fraction of how pissed he was.

“Ah, you’re too smart for that, huh, Kusuo? Yeah, I actually don’t know if I can revert the lycanthropy at all, haha! I never planned to in the first place.”

…Sometimes, the truth hurt significantly more than the lie he had tried to get fed. Kusuo sighed, quite displeased, and stood with a stretch, walking right past his television and heading for the door of his bedroom, which he swung open telekinetically.

He couldn’t see his brother anymore, but he could, unfortunately, still hear him, “Cold shoulder, huh? I never said I wouldn’t try, Kusuo,” He paused mid-step, body halfway out of the door, “Teleport over tomorrow before school, since I really don’t think you’ll get anywhere near me transformed and you’re stuck like this until around six in the morning tomorrow, and I’ll see what I can think of. I won’t keep you anymore, mom’s about to call you down for dinner. Goodbye!”

Kusuo heard his television forcefully shut off with a faint click at the same time his mom’s thoughts grew in volume as they targeted him with ‘Ku-chan, dinner’s ready!’

He’d known dinner was ready. That was why he’d teleported home at this time and had started leaving the conversation when he had. Hmph. Maybe it was a little bit of intentional cold shoulder, sure, but it was mostly dinner.

Or at least that was what he’d tell his mom if Kuusuke whined to her about Kusuo being mean, because he was just being mean for the fun of it. It wasn’t like his brother didn’t deserve it. Sure, he said he was going to genuinely try and fix the whole stupid werewolf thing, but it was his fault in the first place so the effort overall amounted to nothing.

…Did Kuusuke say six in the morning? That probably meant the initial shift had been at six this morning, which added up. That was utterly ridiculous. It was from sunrise to sunrise on the day and night with the fullest moon. How irritating. Kusuo was very good at tuning out Kaidou and Aren’s train of dialogue at this point, helped by his seventeen years of experience tuning out telepathy in general, so much so that he could even forget about them, but their exclamations of horror at that time-frame brought them back into the forefront for a moment.

They’re going to be waiting in that hideout much longer than anticipated… Kusuo sent them a brief condolence. He sent himself a reminder to set an alarm for tomorrow morning so he could shift back promptly.

Abruptly done, Kusuo turned back into his room instead of stepping all the way out, finding and grabbing his dinner telekinetically and bringing it straight to himself, ignoring the silverware for obvious reasons. Upon seeing his plate float away from his table, his mom’s thoughts became rather worried, but he reassured her that he was fine, just still. Having issues.

“…And I’ll be going to see Kuusuke early tomorrow,” He tacked on as well, rolling his eyes at how that statement fully calmed her down in the end.

Setting the plate down on his desk, Kusuo did his best to hop onto his desk chair, grumbling as he landed and the chair teetered precariously before balancing. Doing that was much easier as a cat, considering he weighed around ten pounds as one compared to now in which he was probably a good bit over a hundred.

Mildly annoyed, he huffed again tonight, and started eating (And being a bit disheartened at how dull the normally delicious tonkatsu tasted. He didn’t have anywhere near as many taste buds as a human did, so it was like the flavor was distant and sad), debating on if even trying to sleep when he felt wild awake and irritated was even worth it.

Well, even just lying restfully in his bed would be nice, and Kusuo decided listlessly relaxing was how he’d spend the rest of the night. School tomorrow would probably be a pain after having to deal with his brother, and a mental break would be necessary.

If only he had his germanium ring to truly relax in silence, properly removing both forms of telepathy. As much as he was fond of his nuisances, it was socially draining to always be either in a conversation or hearing one, as the werewolf telepathy was louder than his.

‘Are you telling us to shut up?’

‘Of course not. I’m complaining to myself, not you.’

‘…Right.’

Back on track, even if he could wear a ring on paws, it was no longer functional. The initial transformation had taken his ring with it, just like his clothes, and it’d been warped and broken beyond repair due to Kusuo’s innate strength. If it hadn’t, he likely would’ve tied it to a string and placed it on his neck.

As it stood, it was one wrong tap from Kusuo away from shattering, which wasn’t good when one weak tap from Kusuo could kill a person.

At least in the fading hours of daylight as dusk transitioned to night, people were settling down; and while most people weren’t going to sleep, they were going from a busy day to a mellow night routine, and their minds quieted as a result.

Finishing his meal and barely stopping himself from zoning out and letting his brain decide to lick the rest of the plate clean, he squinted at the empty dish and activated his clairvoyance to see if he had any coffee jelly of equal value in the fridge.

Fantastically, he did. Thank god his parents didn’t splurge on fancy dishes and silverware. This cheap ceramic plate had the same value of a slightly high in value convenience store coffee jelly, and so he apported the two of them, not caring at all that his empty plate was now in the refrigerator.

Kusuo could put it up later, before his parents noticed. Probably.

The lack of hands was making Kusuo actually appreciative of the full scale of his ESP for once, as ripping the seal off of the cup of jelly was as simple as a flex of his mind.

His tail thumped against the side of chair from where it dangled downwards as he shoved his snout straight into the cup. The taste may be watered down and nowhere close to how divine it was normally, but there was still enough of it present for him to enjoy it blissfully.

When he finished it and licked the entire inside completely clean he apported the empty cup for a significantly cheaper but still good brand of coffee jelly, since eating the contents regrettably lowered the value.

He deserved two for this whole ordeal. Maybe three…

…Perhaps not three, actually, since it wouldn’t do if he ate too much coffee jelly while being unable to truly enjoy its delectable flavor…yeah, two would suffice. That reason was why he had avoided his favorite treat even when dealing with being miserable and shape-shifted against his will, but a whole day stuck as a dog warranted it.

----

Kusuo should not have eaten any coffee jelly.

His head and stomach burned fiercely but, at the very least, he heard little to no mental voices due to it being the middle of the night. Even Kaidou and Aren were fast asleep, evidently, since there was no trace of them in his mind. So he did get the reprieve of his headache was significantly less than it could have been in this moment.

His mom rubbed his back (Basically petting him but the comfort was something he would have gotten the exact same way in a human form, so whatever), kneeling down on the floor to be next to him as he sat on the same, chilly, bathroom tile, right in front of the toilet.

Caffeine was toxic to canines, as well as most other animals. Technically it was still toxic to humans but that was irrelevant due to humans having the constitution for it.

Wolves did not have the constitution for it. It made them very ill instead.

Yes, he’d known that, but he’s eaten coffee jelly in his cat form with no repercussions despite his biology being just as altered as it was now…but, on retrospect, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever spent the next few hours after those moments remaining in a cat form and letting that body start to digest it, instead turning back before that could happen.

His mom’s mind was frantic with distress which was fair considering she’d found her normally invulnerable son still transformed and heaving the contents of his stomach into the toilet in the middle of the night after waking up from the noise of him teleporting and landing loudly into the bathtub at first because he’d been disoriented and nauseous, but she’d refused to let her mind come up with and ask questions until she was sure Kusuo was going to be alright.

She was a godsend, and so he decided to explain of his own free will so she wouldn’t start crying, which she was far too close to for comfort, flicking his gaze to the side so that it met hers.

“I’m okay. Or getting there. Dogs can’t have coffee or they get sick. I ate two cups of coffee jelly after dinner…I think I forgot to take the plate I apported into the fridge back out as well. Sorry.”

“Kusuo…” The use of his actual name was usually a bad sign, but now it was more out of exasperation and worry than anything of the scolding variety, “Can you still not turn back?”

He just shook his head, not wanting to explain that he wouldn’t be able to until a time frame that was far too specific for what he was still pretending was a power malfunction.

Kurumi just hummed sadly at that, continuing to stroke his back even as his scooted a bit away from the toilet. His stomach was still rolling queasily, but Kusuo was fairly sure that his body was done being absolutely disgusting.

He almost shuddered remembering how it had felt. He was beyond glad his ESP made him neigh immune to disease, because vomiting was the most unpleasant thing he’d ever experienced so far in life.

As he continued to pull himself back together, staring blearily at the white bathroom floor tiles, his mom asked him another question, “Would medicine help?”

“Even if it did, given my powers, I can’t take it like this. Human medication is a very big no-no for animals,” He sighed mentally and slowly raised himself off the ground, taking shaky steps past his mom and towards the open bathroom door. It was dark in the house, and so the hallway outside looked pitch in contrast to the illuminated bathroom, even with his ability to see in the dark.

The bathroom was, fortunately, rather close to his bedroom, so he decided against teleporting and padded slowly back to his room, pausing as his mom rushed ahead to open the door for him, leaving the bathroom light on in the process.

That was sweet of her, even if he probably could have used his telekinesis fine. He sent a quiet thanks to her and closed the gap to his bed agonizingly slowly, as his stomach lurched ominously whenever he tried to speed up more than a tiny bit.

Kusuo had actually managed to drift asleep briefly before this incident, lulled sufficiently by soft mental voices as he laid on his bed, and now he was even sleepier feeling. It seemed like getting sick had actually assisted in granting him some much needed rest.

He didn’t bother to shut his bedroom door, nosing under the covers of his bed until he was completely buried and comfortable, wondering faintly where his mom had gone when he heard her footsteps go downstairs, but overall not that concerned about it.

It was only when he had nearly fallen asleep again that his heightened hearing noticed her approaching his bed, and she called for him as she approached the lump of covers he’d become, “Ku-chan?”

He stuck his head out from under his blankets, the rest of his body curled up tightly behind him, looking curiously at his mom as she held a bowl full of water out at him, setting it down on his end table once she’d confirmed that he knew of its presence.

“If you feel up to it, you should make sure to drink some water, okay? Otherwise you’ll get dehydrated, since you just threw up,” She reached a hand down and stroked his head gently, and Kusuo nodded both to signify that he heard her and to dislodge it politely.

He knew that. He just hadn’t felt like getting himself water when he would have survived the night regardless. But, now that it had been brought to him, he crawled up on his bed until he could stick his muzzle into the bowl and drink as his mom turned to leave, wishing him a good rest of the night that he almost forgot to return.

Drinking from a bowl like this was mildly demeaning, but it was significantly less of a hassle than using telekinesis to drink from a cup was. So, since he was feeling very icky and wanted to exert as little energy as possible right now, he decided he didn’t care, tucking his head right back under his blanket once he’d had enough to satiate his thirst.

----

Waking up to an alarm at six in the morning when he didn’t have to be at school until closer to nine would usually be a miserable experience, but for once, Kusuo was downright filled with joy when he remembered why he was startled out of a deep sleep so early.

#werewolf au #akira scribbles #<- i guess even wips can go here now lol #saiki k #saiki kusuo no psi nan #the disastrous life of saiki k.#kubosai

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calamity-aims · 8 months

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20 questions!

thanks for the tags @gaeasun @saltsanford @purgetrooperfox <3 love you guys

How many works do you have on AO3?

What’s your total AO3 word count?

238,592 (ooh I'mma celebrate when I hit a quarter million)

What fandoms do you write for?

mostly Star Wars! I wrote fic for some other fandoms early on but we don't talk about those

What are your top five fics by kudos?

your heartbeat's a countdown - crack fic in which the Jedi know the clones are a trap and try to avoid them at all costs

Necessary - a whumpy Voltron Klance fic I wrote after the first season (before the show went to hell)

their days are darker - in which Wolffe doesn't know how to drop anything and Fox is having the worst two days of his life

the broken-hearted rang their steeple bells - tropey Witcher kinkmeme fill that for some baffling reason has tons of kudos

exploitation, hesitation - short oneshot in which Fox assumes General Kenobi is just like his natborn superior officers and reacts accordingly

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I used to reply to every single one (unless it was just emojis) but then I fell off and now I feel bad :( I read them all though! and they are so treasured! one day I will make it through the backlog

What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

ooh see despite writing a lot of angst, I almost always write happy endings, so maybe I'll take no gold, I'll take no silver (please read the tags on that one). maybe spit some blood at the camera is pretty sad too, actually

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

all of them!! yayyyy! even if it's not spelled out, I usually resolve things because that's the world I want to live in! every fic is a fix-it fic

Do you get hate on fics?

not really, mostly just people asking when I'm going to finish, although I have seen people complaining that my version of Fox/Corries is banal and overdone which like yeah. I agree. but my brain won't let me move on.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

hell yeah I do! I don't know what "what kind" means - I write characters fucking, never x reader and rarely OCs; and it's usually somewhat kinky because I just can't not

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

I've written a few fusions/AUs - elysium is as far as to is a Gladiator AU, everyone wants a double feature is a Pacific Rim AU, and more human than human is a Bladerunner AU. but I've never done a straight-up crossover, although there are a few bouncing around in my brain (namely, the GAR joins the Decepticons and another where Boromir meets Rex and falls in love)

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

yeah I've had real problems with people plagiarizing fics, from lifting whole sections of dialogue to copying really specific scenes

Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope, but one got a podfic

Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

yeah I cowrote hold me like a grudge and sometimes a parrot talks (unfinished) with the fabulous @postapocalyptic-cryptic!

What’s your all-time favourite ship?

oh man. I love Quinlan/Fox to death. but I will admit that I was Stucky trash from the very beginning.

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

ooh there's a lot. Mace/Fox fic, sometimes a parrot talks, deaged Corries, chroma...

What are your writing strengths?

hm. I don't know. I think I'm good at characterization and dialogue?

What are your writing weaknesses?

fukcin plot beyond "there is hurt and then there is comfort". and also explaining more about people's emotions, like, I know what they're feeling but I need to tell other people

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I just use google translate, I'm sorry

First fandom you wrote for?

oh boy oh fuck. The first fandom I ever wrote for was Phantom of the Opera when I was in eighth grade. go ahead and laugh

Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

uhhh. aaa? um. probably unexplain the unforgivable, but I also really liked how a once and future sun turned out

no pressure tags for @postapocalyptic-cryptic @meerlichtz @milfmisspiggy @catboydogma @jaigeye

#calamity answers #calamity writing

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ego-osbourne · 1 year

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This was one that @mellowscrolls suggested I do a while ago. Never got around to finishing it, and I’m not sure how canon all of this will be to the fic, but have this WIP anyway :) It’s a bit long

Dragon Fight

Status: Unfinished Oneshot

TW: Violence and Battle

Summary: The Masquerade battles a dragon in an unorganized manner.

———

The main our of the Masquerade trekked alongside a river in the Rift, heading east to the city. It was midday with a clear sky and the sun casted down heat, but the wind pushed the coolness of the water’s surface toward the party, keeping everyone relatively temperate. To their left was the river, and to their right was woodlands. They traveled between the two, just far enough from the riverbank so as not to collect mud on their footwear. It was a peaceful journey, all things considered, if a little boring.

In the break of one of the party’s conversations, a massive shadow was suddenly cast over them, moving quickly. Looking up, the party found the familiar silhouette of a dragon, soaring so high into the air that it was difficult to make out any semblance of details. “Dammit,” Erandur cursed, “Let’s hope it’s just a scout.”

“Let’s hope it lands,” Miraak countered, drawing his sword, “I don’t like the thought of dragons communicating with Alduin over our whereabouts.”

The dunmer sighed as Serana readied her own sword. “Okay,” he said, “Just don’t—”

“Mey dovah!” Miraak shouted into the air, sending no physical force with his Voice but sounding just as loud as a Shout.

“—provoke it…” Erandur grumbled.

The dragon above roared, its words hard to discern through its deep and angry tone. It began to swoop down.

Ego sort of chuckled, “I heard ‘dovah.’ What’d you say?”

“Called him a stupid dragon,” Miraak answered.

“Nice,” Ego responded, drawing their waraxe as they kept an eye on the dragon. “Let’s take cover by the woods before he gets any closer.”

The party made their way over as the dragon swooped over the river, making the water’s surface tremble with an ear-splitting roar. Clearly not happy about the situation, Erandur commented, “Ego, I thought you hated fighting dragons.”

“I do! But, now we’ve got Miraak. Things are a bit less dangerous with two dragon-hunters, aye?”

Just as the party went to turn, the dragon threw itself onto the riverbank, and the group was appalled by just how massive this beast was. For Miraak, the size was familiar but still extremely foreboding, while the other three had never seen a traditional dragon of this size—not as big as Paarthurnax or Alduin, but more massive than any of the others they’d seen previously. “Holy shit!” Ego cursed.

The dragon, with a voice as deep as a well, spouted, “Hin togaat wah paak zu’u los kod!” Its scales were a glistering blue and white with thin spikes jutting all over its back resembling ice crystals. It stood with four feet instead of the traditional two and was battle-scarred.

Miraak fired back, “Nu hi mulhaan bo wah mu, mey?” None of the party caught a lot of it, but that last word, “mey.” That meant stupid, or something similar, they knew. That, plus whatever else Miraak had said, seemed to anger the dragon enough to begin its attack. “Fo…”

“Get cover!” Erandur called, throwing up a ward.

“…Krah Diin!” the dragon finished, hurling a storm of ice and blistering cold at the party. Miraak threw up a ward with him while Serana and Ego ducked behind nearby trees. Everyone avoided most of the impact, and as soon as the stream of Frost Breath ceased, the party jumped out to take action. In near-unison, both Dragonborn Shouted, “Mul… Qah Diiv!” and were wrapped in ethereal armor in the shapes of scales and horns. The dragon roared something in dovahzul to them before taking to the sky, missing any melee attacks that the party could have dealt. As it lifted, Erandur shot firebolts at it, Serana fired ice spikes, and both Dragonborn casted bolts of lightning toward the beast. When the dragon flew far enough that the group couldn’t accurately aim, Ego called to Miraak, “My soul, by the way!”

“Ha! You wish,” Miraak retorted.

“It’s mine, Miraak!”

“You got the last one!”

“I’m still making up for all the ones you stole!”

Erandur piped up, “You two! Quit fighting and focus on the dragon!”

Ego huffed, jogging over closer to the group and next to Miraak. The eldest gave them a punch to the arm, which Ego retorted with a harder punch to his. “Bastard,” Miraak said under his breath. “Asshat,” Ego returned.

The dragon circled the area again before swooping down to them, spraying deadly frost onto the party. Erandur and Miraak cased ward, each pulling Serana and Ego under with them to block the frost. When the dragon passed, Miraak summoned a seeker to aid the group. It reminded Ego to summon their own atronach, producing a lady of fire at their side. Doing so gave them a sudden idea.

“Oh, hold on,” they murmured to themself, reaching for their bag. They recalled a particular staff attached to their bag and pawed at it for a moment before being able to unclasp it and wield it in their casting hand. The Sanguine Rose. Ego smirked at the possibilities. “Alright, Sammy, let’s see what you can do.” The Dragonborn knew fully-well that the Rose could summon a dremora warrior to help, but they also knew a special way to summon the Principality himself. They backpedaled away from the group a short distance, tucked their axe under their arm, and plucked one of the petals from the rose of the staff. Ego dropped it to the ground while Erandur side-eyed them. Within a moment, red smoke billowed up and spun with the air, growing to a height well above Ego’s head. As quick as it had come, the smoke dissipated and in the petal’s place stood the Daedric Prince of Debauchery: Sanguine. He was dressed in the usual red and gold draperies, robes covering his legs and falling over his shoulders. He squinted in the sunlight but spotted the Dragonborn near-instantly and smiled with his fangs. “Oh, you look colorful,” he referenced their Dragon Aspect.

“Yeah!” The Dragonborn cut him off before he could say anything more, then gestured to the dragon—the dragon that was coming down to land. “Wanna help?” They asked in a rather panicked tone, readying their axe.

The ground shook with the force of the landing, making everyone stumble for a moment, and Sanguine looked over at the dragon and froze, eyes going wide. The beast shallowly laughed before drawing in a breath, and in that instant Sanguine scooped up the Last Dragonborn and scrambled to get away, fleeing into the trees. The other three shouted at the Prince for stealing away one of the party members and Ego yelped for Sam to put them down. Sanguine listened to nobody, however, and continued to race into the woods with Ego in-tow while the dragon refocused its Frost Breath on the grander party.

Miraak could be heard Shouting while the others skirmished with the beast. Sanguine ducked behind some trees and brush, peering over to watch the fight in fear while keeping Ego in a tight grip. The Dragonborn squirmed and scolded, “Sam! Let go!”

“This is what you fucking do all day?” he gaped.

“Sanguine!” Ego punched his arm.

“Ah! Sorry!” He let them go. Ego rose to their feet while the Prince stayed kneeling, his ears pointed downward and his tail curled around him. “What did you summon me for?”

“To help!”

“Wh—How am I gonna help? Why didn’t you summon a dremora or something, that’s what the staff usually does!”

“I don’t know! You’ve got Prince powers or something don’t you?”

“You are assuming a lot about what all my ‘Prince powers’ do!” Sam gave an undertone of sass.

“Ego!” They heard Erandur call. “We need your help!” The remaining group was managing but obviously not winning. The flame atronach was long gone, probably due to a frost attack, and Ego saw the seeker that Miraak had summoned get squished beneath one of its feet, fizzling out and returning to Apocrypha. Ego huffed, “Look, sorry! Just,” they shoved the Rose into his hands, “Hold onto this for a second. Sorry again!” With that, Ego ran off towards the fight. Sanguine looked on in astonishment.

Ego guesstimated the distance between them and the dragon, drawing their axe over their shoulder and Shouting “Wuld!” As they traveled they swung the weapon and planted it right into the dragon’s leg. They pulled it away just as the beast turned to swat at them, clipping Ego’s back with a claw as they attempted to dodge.

Serana stepped back from the group and concentrated, summoning a gargoyle to assist the party. It immediately sprung into action, leaping up to the dragon’s head and carving into it with red claws. The dragon backpedaled, attempting to shake off the gargoyle while the party pursued it. In an act of luck on the dragon’s part, the gargoyle slipped and was caught between the beast’s jaws, being bitten through and destroyed in an instant.

Miraak gave the dragon no time to reassess the field, sending a storm of Fire Breath into its face. The dragon roared and lifted into the air again, spraying Frost Breath at the party. Ego was left in its wake without cover, this time, getting pelted with small shards of ice. As the dragon left them for a moment, Erandur hurried over and casted a restoration spell on Ego, healing their external wounds. “What happened to Sanguine?” Erandur asked.

“He’s over there,” Ego gestured, glancing over to spot— “Oh!” They were surprised by the sight of two dremora warriors, fully clad with terrifying armor, one wielding a giant greatsword, the other a giant bow. The dremora were running to the group with eyes on the dragon, the bowman taking aim and firing upon the beast. Back in the brush, still, was Sanguine, hiding behind a tree and nervously waving to the group. The dremora were surely summoned by him.

“What’d you summon him for?” Erandur asked.

“To help,” Ego echoed the same sentiment from earlier.

“He’s not exactly Dagon,” Erandur snarked.

“He’s still a Prince!”

“He’s a drunkard.”

“Erandur,” Ego scolded. “He’s helping, look!” They gestured to the dremora before addressing them both, “Thank you, by the way.”

Neither of them responded.

Erandur sighed, jogging back to the focus of the group, “Just don’t let him pull you away, again.” Ego tailed him, glancing back at the Prince and giving him a thumbs up. Sanguine didn’t look so confident but smiled with his teeth all the same.

The dragon swooped down, diving as if to land but maintaining a frightening speed. The bowman dremora managed to get a shot in before the party realized that the dragon’s claws were out, and it intended to snatch up the party members. The majority of them hopped out of the way, but the bowman and Miraak were too slow to move. Miraak Shouted “Feim!”—Become Ethereal—just as the dragon’s feet hit him, moments away from getting smashed into the dirt and picked up into the air. The bowman wasn’t so lucky, dropping his weapon after the blow before his form fizzled and he returned to Oblivion.

Panic set into the party, now, watching as Miraak was lifted higher and higher into the air. He writhed in the claws that squeezed him through his ethereal form, trying to push his way out before ultimately using a Shout to do so. He used Cyclone, crying, “Ven… Gaar Nos!” and aimed it right at the beast’s ankle. It dispelled his ethereal nature but also twisted the dragon’s leg, forcing it to free Miraak. The Dragonborn began to fall, the river quick to catch him but not without pain, Miraak knew. He sharply inhaled and Shouted, “Feim!” once more, regaining his ghostly form. It taxed his lungs and energy to Shout so many times in a row, but at least the fall was painless as he crashed into the river.

Ego knew Miraak would be struggling to regain his energy after Shouting like that, and so ran with the current. Using all three words of Whirlwind Sprint, they managed to catch up to their older brother and wade into the water, taking his arm and pulling him up to the shoreline. By then, Miraak’s ethereal form had dissipated. He had a small coughing fit as he spit up water, and Ego casted a meager healing spell on him. “You alright?” they asked quickly.

“Yeah,” he huffed, still grasping onto Ego’s shoulder for support. The dragon roared overhead and both Dragonborn turned their gaze up to it. “Dammit, the thing needs to stay down,” Miraak cursed.

“Well, not a whole lot we can do about that.” They hit Miraak on the back, adding, “We’re in for the long fight.”

Miraak grumbled and began to move back towards the rest of the party. The Masquerade watched the dragon detour into the woods, and for a brief moment they thought it had left for good. “Coward!” Miraak called, personally angry, now.

And then, as if he’d tempted karma, the dragon reappeared with a whole tree in its grasp, laughing as it threw it down onto the party. The majority of the Masquerade swore as they lunged out of the way, all thankfully missing the bulk of the tree but managing to get whacked by branches as it crashed. Ego and Miraak were on the ground next to each other, scrambling to their feet. Ego punched their brother in the arm quite hard, telling him, “Would you keep your mouth shut?”

Miraak punched them back, “Would you?”

Everyone got out of the way of the thrown tree, eyes on the airborn dragon once again. The remaining dremora warrior was muttering something under his breath in a language none of them knew, seemingly cursing his situation. Unable to do much else, the group threw magic at the dragon once it got close enough.

After a few swoops and Frost Breath attacks, the beast landed once again. The group ran to it, finally able to land some worthwhile blows as it fought back against them. Erandur did a good number on the ice beast with his fire attacks, keeping his distance and aiming toward the dragon’s back as he shot fireballs at it. The dragon lost its balance due to the impacts, and responded with a mighty swip of the tail that caught Ego and Serana in its wake. They were thrown into the earth and tumbled over themselves, the Dragonborn quick to their feet while the vampire laid on her back for a moment and cursed in annoyance. While on the ground, she summoned another gargoyle and sent it towards the dragon.

The gargoyle was quick, running on all fours and lunging at the beast’s head, but the dragon knew this trick and pelted it with powerful frost. The gargoyle fizzled out in the blizzard before managing to land a hit. The dragon’s head was low as it tasted the last bits of frost on its tongue, and with its position came an opportunity for the dremora warrior. With a hefty overhead swing, he brought his giant blade down through the beast’s snout. The dragon was surprised by the strength harbored by the dremora and had to recover for a moment with a new gash across its nose. The warrior gave it no time, though, and followed his swing with an upward jab to the underside of the beast’s jaw. Clearly tired with its predicament, the beast raised its wings to take off.

Just before it could get its first flap in, though, the ground beneath it broke in multiple places, and from the earthly wounds rose giant trunks of wood, crimson in hue and sprouting with pink leaves and blossoms. They wrapped around the dragon’s neck, grabbing on and not letting go. Ego accidentally struck one of the branches as it appeared, blocking their hit. The dragon pushed its wings against the air and attempted to lift off, but the massive branches around its neck kept it in place. More of these rapidly-growing trees caught the beast’s body, pulling it to the earth.

As the dragon cried out, the group briefly looked around to find the cause of the strange happenings. Ego was the first to see Sanguine by the treeline, pulling at the air with his hands in-time with the way the branches moved. He had brought up the trees, Ego realized, not knowing he was capable of a feat like that. They cheered him on, “Woo, Sam!”

He flickered his gaze to the Dragonborn, giving a hearty smile before refocusing his attention on keeping the beast down.

Ego heard Erandur laugh with pride—probably the first time he’d done so in relevance to Sanguine. He then launched another fireball at the dragon’s back just as Miraak Shouted a storm of fire at the beast’s front. Both caused the branches to catch fire, adding extra damage to the beating that the dragon was already taking elsewhere. The dremora warrior hopped out of the way of a Frost Breath attack and struck the dragon’s eye with his blade, making the beast roar in pain and defiance. Ego managed to sprint over to the other side of the dragon’s head, striking its face with their axe. Eventually, the dragon let out one last cry before all movement ceased, and the fire blazed around it. The downed beast then began its signature process of burning up from the inside, matching the outside inferno.

Those who were close to the dragon stepped back, sighing a breath of relief as the battle drew to a close. Ego and Miraak quickly locked eyes on each other, and after a moment of glaring, both began to push at one another. They were fighting to see who could get closer to the dragon’s body without stepping foot in the flames; whoever was closest would snag the soul, after all. Miraak, being bigger and stronger than their sibling, grabbed Ego by the shoulders and tossed them back. Just as all the flesh of the dragon flaked away, the Last Dragonborn met the First with a hefty, “Fus… Ro!” It made Miraak stumble away but not far enough, and Ego groaned as they watched the soul fly to Miraak. “Ha!” the older of the two laughed.

“Asshat!” Ego got to their feet.

“You were too slow this time, Dragonborn,” Miraak pressed on with immense pride in his voice.

Ego didn’t bother to bite their tongue. Instead, they aimed their Voice at Miraak, and sent him into the river with Unrelenting Force. The thunderous clap was nicely matched with the sound of the First splashing into the water.

“Ego!” Erandur scolded, jogging over.

“He stole the soul!” The Dragonborn couldn’t help but laugh as they battled with the priest. “He’s fine.” They glanced back to the river, seeing Miraak’s head poking out of the water’s surface as he begrudgingly made his way back to land. Ego tauntingly called, “You alright?”

Miraak’s golden mask faced them just as he reached the bank, and from the water’s surface jutted a middle finger. Ego mischievously snickered while Erandur rolled his eyes. “Alright,” the priest began, changing the subject, “Who’s hurt?”

“Aye,” Serana called, trudging over with a half-relaxed expression. Erandur met with her and found her wounds, healing them over the best he could.

Ego took another breath as they looked at the dragon, sighing with relief to see the flames of the charred branches dying down. They caught the dremora in their sight; he was poking at one of the wing bones with his foot, examining the dead beast. Ego was about to call over to him before hearing footsteps running up behind them. Before they could even turn, they were snatched up and lifted from the ground into a tight hug. A breath and noise was forced out of them as they were squeezed, Sanguine chattering, “Holy shit! Ego, why in Oblivion would you do that?”

“Ugh—Sam!” they lightly punched his arms, signaling him to let up. Sanguine did so but still held onto them, not letting their feet touch the ground. “I mean, really? Why? Are you alright?” he queried.

“That’s sort of our job,” Ego chuckled, getting their breath back, “Dragonborn, and all.”

“That job fucking sucks,” he responded.

“Hey, but you’re pretty damned good at it!” the breton exclaimed. “I didn’t know you could bring trees up like that!”

“Trust me when I say that they’re usually only for scenery. That took a lot of concentration,” the Prince looked over at the dragon. “Woof… I haven’t seen that for a while.”

“Ego!” Erandur called from a short distance, “Tell him to put you down so I can heal you!”

“Oh, I can heal you,” Sanguine said to Ego, but with a bit of snark directed at Erandur. He asked, “Where are you hurt?

#ozzy writes #tdi #the dez illusion #ego #miraak #serana #erandur #dremora #sanguine #dragon #tes #tesblr #tesv #skyrim

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