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hypnoneghoul · 1 month ago

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Symbol on the Surface Chapter 5

WC: 2,2k

Relationship: SwissAlps

Tags: Transmasc Swiss, Pregnancy, Cravings, Cooking, Fluff

“Can you imagine it, though?” Swiss asks. “Our kits running around backstage?” “I don’t think I’d be able to focus on playing knowing there’s three kits of yours backstage.”

Notes: This chapter was co-written by @skele-bunny and @jimothybarnes. Thank you both for help <3

Chapter 1 here or on AO3.

Read chapter 5 under the cut or on AO3.

Just as Omega has predicted, Swiss’ complete lack of appetite and food repulsion went away soon enough, turning into cravings.

Insane cravings.

Third night in a row Mountain wakes up in the middle of it alone in their nest. At first his instincts make his heart rate spike, worried about his pregnant mate before he’s even fully awake, but then the earth ghoul’s mind clears and he knows exactly where to look for Swiss.

In the kitchen.

Obviously.

He yawns and stretches and rubs his eyes before getting out of the nest. It’s quite cold—Mountain shudders and decides to throw a blanket around his shoulders before leaving the room to go hunt for his mate. Again.

The walk to the kitchen isn’t very eventful—besides occasional stepping over a mess generated by his pack. Soon enough Mountain turns the corner to the common room and sees the kitchen light on.

And his mate moving around erratically; from the cabinets, to the fridge, and back to the counter.

For a moment Mountain just stares as Swiss bends for the space under the sink and pulls out dish soap. Completely in disbelief, the earth ghoul watches his mate open the cap and pour it on a sandwich which looks like a demon on its own.

“Darling,” he calls softly, making Swiss’ head perk up and his tail start wagging, “are those batteries?”

Swiss looks down at his sandwich, spoon in his mouth muffling the words, “Will you judge me if I say yes?”

“...Yes.”

“Then, no. They’re not.” Swiss puts the top onto his abomination and moves it next towards a cup that he also filled with dish soap.

Mountain steps closer, looking into the cup and raising an eyebrow. “Can I at least ask what’s this?”

“Earl gray tea, with coke, and soap!”

“My heart…” Mountain sighs in exasperation and worry—albeit with a tinge of humor, “Are you ill?”

The multi ghoul laughs, nudging his elbow at the other before going to grab his items, but his hands end up being moved away, causing a pout to show on his face.

“I was gonna eat that!” he protests. The truth is that with him being a ghoul—and a multi ghoul, at that—that horrible meal probably wouldn’t damage…much; like it would a human. Still, he should be properly nourished considering he’s growing three little demons in his belly.

“The hell you are, mister!” Mountain chuckles. “C’mon, let me make you actual food…What are you craving?”

“Oh…” Swiss thinks for a moment. “Acid and ham…”

“How about ham and mashed potatoes instead?”

“Ugh, I guess I can work with that.” The multi ghoul rolls his eyes as he grabs a bag of salt and vinegar chips from Sunshine’s secret stash—Mountain only huffs to himself before getting vinegar from the fridge and handing it over to Swiss.

The two share a few giggles—with Swiss only throwing a small tantrum as his science experiments get tossed out, but still sitting up on the island countertop obediently when his mate tells him to. It’s a comforting silence with the ambience of Mountain collecting his pans and pots throughout the kitchen, working methodically and quickly.

“Do you want scalloped? Garlic?” he asks, reaching into the pantry and pulling out two potatoes, awaiting Swiss’ answer.

There is a brief moment of silence as he considers, cheeks getting warm as Swiss lays his face in his hands. “Both…can I choose both?”

“I can do both.”

“Then I want both.”

Mountain sighs, “I love it when you boss me around.”

Laughter bursts once again, accompanied by the noise of Swiss’ tail thumping against the cabinet fronts. His eyes follow Mountain’s every move, stomach twisting as he tries to settle himself. Just a little longer and then he’s going to have a full meal just to himself.

As he’s preparing actual food for his poor hungry mate, Mountain catches the sight of Swiss’ tummy from the corner of his eye. The multi ghoul’s sleep shirt rode up a little when he sat on the counter and his slumped over position makes his—still rather small, but undoubtedly there—baby bump that much more noticeable.

Mountain thinks he falls in love with him all over again, right there.

Finally, having finished preparing both types of potatoes, and with the ham thoroughly washed and seasoned, Mountain settles the items in the oven and on the stove top before going back to wash his hands for the final time.

“My heart,” Mountain purrs with a smile, “your three a.m. dinner will be done in just a couple of minutes.”

Swiss groans in excitement, kicking his feet like a toddler against the counter. “I would absolutely suck your dick right now if I felt like I could get up after.”

“Oh, you’re ridiculous.”

“It’s true!” Swiss argues. “If I felt like I could get up from a kneeling position—my back hurts like a bitch—right here and now. Both hands, open mouth. I’m just saying!”

The earth ghoul stares with a playful glare, raising his hands and flicking the water droplets onto his mate, smiling as Swiss turns his head with a quiet ‘hey!’. Mountain steps back, making his way towards Swiss, to wrap his arms around him and kiss his cheek. He feels Swiss lean back against him, sighing as Mountain slowly rubs over his stomach.

Silence falls again as the multi ghoul moves his tail to curl around Mountain’s thigh and yawns.

“If you want to sleep, I can take you back to bed. Doesn’t hurt to put the food in a container for tomorrow.”

“No!” Swiss sits back up. “Mashed potatoes heated up in the microwave is the worst thing that I’ve ever experienced. Well, besides the other…horrors of living.”

Mountain shakes his head, before leaning in and kissing his mate’s temple. “You and your odd comparisons.”

“Mountain, my love,” Swiss whines, “these babies want ham and if I don’t get that in the next five seconds I might blow up the Abbey.”

“You have to stop threatening to blow everything up, my heart,” the earth ghoul chuckles. “That’s like the third time today, you’re gonna end up on the list.”

Still, he moves away from Swiss to go stir the mashed potatoes and check on the other two in the oven. It doesn’t take as long as Swiss thought it would—he’s kicking his feet again as Mountain cuts him a plate, placing it delicately in front of him. The earth ghoul stands quietly as he watches, eyebrows pinched together and head tilted as within just two minutes Swiss holds his plate out again.

“Also,” Swiss swallows the last bite as Mountain takes his plate for seconds, “Dew isn’t on the list and he threatens to burn the place down every minute.”

“Dew absolutely is on the list and he talks about it with pride. He’s been put on it even before you were summoned.” Mountain’s tail flicks as he walks over, hand on his cheek as he watches Swiss’ expression change to disbelief.

“Wait, there’s actually a list?”

A nod. “Uh–huh.”

“And I’m not on it!? That is so not fair!”

Mountain stares back this time, shaking his head with a quiet laugh. “You two can duke it out in the morning over who gets to be on the list. Feed our children for now.”

“Good, I’m gonna win,” Swiss states proudly as he lifts the fork to take another bite.

Around four helpings later, Swiss finally calls it quits, whining about how he feels bigger than he already is. The remaining food went into containers and the fridge, but the dishes are being left for the morning as Mountain yawns once more.

“Mountain,” Swiss leans on the counter, watching as the other comes back around and readjusts the blanket still hanging on his shoulders, “I’m tired…”

“C’mere,” Mountain mutters with a soft smile as he takes off the blanket wrapped around himself. He stretches it between his arms and invites Swiss in with a nod. He grumbles something about Mountain probably being colder than he is, but hops off the counter and lets his mate put the fluffy fabric around him. The multi ghoul kicks up a purr and leans against Mountain to nuzzle under his chin.

“Let’s go back to bed, darling,” he mumbles.

“Yeah,” Swiss agrees. Despite everything they’re both exhausted. “What time is it even?”

“Probably nearing four.” It was just past three in the morning when Mountain left the nest.

“Oh, fuck,” the multi ghoul’s ears droop, immediately feeling horrible about dragging his mate out of bed at such hour and making him cook for him. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t–”

“It’s alright,” Mountain assures, “I don’t mind. We’ll have to get used to being up at night, anyway.”

“Shit…you’re right. That’s…”

“A little scary,” he finishes for the other, “but we’ll be alright.”

“Yeah.” Swiss sighs. “Yeah, we’ll be alright.”

Another of Swiss’ nightly—or morning?—escapades took its toll on the pair, but, thankfully, they don’t have anything to do, so they can rest during the day. And that’s what they’ve been doing for a while, but soon enough rotting in their nest got a little boring, so Swiss and Mountain have moved to the common room and are currently occupying half of the couch.

Mountain is purring quietly, laying with his eyes closed and his head in Swiss’ lap as the multi ghoul is running his fingers through his mate’s long, dark amber hair.

“I was thinking yesterday,” Swiss starts, breaking the comfortable silence “what about touring?”

Mountain hums in acknowledgement—he’s been thinking about that, too.

“I don’t know,” he replies truthfully, “but the next cycle isn’t even scheduled yet so I think we have time to think about it.”

“I mean, yeah, but…we wouldn’t have to give up touring right?” the multi ghoul asks and Mountain knows exactly what he’s thinking about.

“I don’t know,” he repeats. “I think Sister would’ve thrown a tantrum, but with Papa in charge, now? I think he’ll let us do whatever we think is best.”

“Yeah, true,” Swiss agrees—he’s got a point. A lot has changed for the better already, since their Papa became Frater Imperator; the human is working his ass off for the Siblings and the ghouls. He forgets about himself in that, but his ghouls will always remind him that despite everything he’s still their Papa—a part of their pack.

“Can you imagine it, though?” Swiss speaks again after a moment. “Our kits running around backstage?”

“I don’t think I’d be able to focus on playing knowing there’s three kits of yours backstage,” Mountain chuckles. Fair point.

“Oh, Lucifer,” Swiss gasps, “what if they’re all as chaotic as I am?”

“Then I’d say we’re all doomed.”

“Let’s hope they take after you more,” he giggles.

“Hm, maybe a little,” the earth ghoul mumbles—he’s so relaxed he’s nearly asleep, “but I do want them to be like their mama, too.”

“Mama?” Swiss asks, trying not to pay attention to the way his chest warms up at the word.

Mountain’s eyes snap open and he blushes, “Shit, sorry, I–that wasn’t meant to–it slipped out, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s–I like it, actually,” Swiss admits, biting the inside of his cheek.

“You do?” His eyes light up. “Isn’t it…doesn’t it make you dysphoric, or anything? I don’t ever want to make you–”

“It doesn’t, “ the multi ghoul interrupts him. “Seriously, it really doesn’t, it feels…it feels good.”

Mountain lets out a breath of relief and sinks back into the couch, relaxing again. “Okay. Okay, good…but tell me if it changes, okay?”

“I will,” Swiss laughs and returns to stroking the earth ghoul’s hair. “What are you going to be? Daddy, papa?”

“I don’t know, haven’t thought about that.”

“But you thought about me being your kits’ mama?” The multi ghoul raises an eyebrow and watches Mountain’s face turn even redder in real time.

“Shut up,” Mountain mutters and turns to hide his face in his mate’s steadily growing bump. His purr kicks back up and it’s even louder this time; Swiss can’t stop smiling. He unglamors his claws to scratch at Mountain’s scalp—just behind his horns, where he likes it best—and the involuntary chirps the action pulls out of him make Swiss melt.

“Awww,” the multi ghoul coos. “Mama got the good spot?”

Mountain stills at that—completely freezes with his face still hidden in Swiss’ stomach. He immediately starts to worry that he shouldn’t have teased him and is about to apologize when the earth ghoul lifts his head and looks him straight in the eye.

“When can I knock you up again?”

The multi ghoul bursts out laughing.

“That bad, huh?” he smirks. “I don’t think it works like that, but you can try right now if you want.”

Swiss isn’t entirely prepared for Mountain jumping off the couch and scooping him right up into his arms, “Let’s try, then.”

It’s his turn to blush as he’s being carried back to their bedroom. Mountain can be quite determined when he really wants something…

Taglist: @arkeusruin @skele-bunny @everybodyshusband @ratsummer @jazz-bazz @mac-and-thefox @karmicbias @wine-irytatus

#the band ghost #nameless ghouls #swiss ghoul #mountain ghoul #cw pregnancy #swissalps #symbol on the surface #hypnone writes

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caffeinerabbit · 5 months ago

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(Note: I originally started to write this as a quick and dirty backstory for Latte, which explained why she was chosen as Benji's mentor, and why she behaves the way she does. Once I started writing, however, it was like some floodgate opened and now I have a full blown setting and story arc in my head. I'd love to turn it into a comic, but I don't think I have the patience for that, so I'm giving serious thought about turning it into a multi-chapter illustrated fanfic, with the occasional comic for fun.

In any case, here's the first piece of lore, possibly with more to come. The story continues under the cut, with potential spoilers for down the line - and please forgive the melodrama!)

Latte's Story

Latte is a veteran exploration team member, and in her prime she was considered one of the Guild’s elites. Even though she’s semi-retired now (for reasons) she’s still highly regarded as one of the best, and from time to time the Guild will seek her help when they have a difficult task in front of them.

She’s also a thoroughly unpleasant person. Sarcastic, aloof, and generally unfriendly to most people, she spends much of her time alone, either drinking her days away or just kind of blankly existing.

(And yes, this PMD setting has booze. You can’t tell me that a civilization whose diet consists of 90% berries and fruit hasn’t stumbled upon fermentation.)

When Benji the human-turned-buneary just happens to show up one day and the Guild becomes aware of him, past experience tells them that something bad is about to go down. They know that Benji and his partner Finn need to be brought up to snuff ASAP, and to that end they enlist Latte to act as the duo’s mentor, which she reluctantly accepts after much pleading.

From the moment their eyes meet, Latte and Benji can’t stand one another. Although she’s typically hard to get along with in general, for some reason she takes an immediate and intense dislike of Benji in particular, constantly snarking at him, mocking him when he messes up, and directing a weirdly immense amount of ire his way. For his part, Benji is utterly perplexed as to what exactly he did to piss off this giant rabbit woman, returning her vitriol in kind. Her being the final evolution of his new form doesn’t help matters either, since he’s mildly embarrassed by his current situation, and she’s a reminder of what he has to look forward to if he winds up stuck in the Pokémon world permanently.

Ostensibly, as a lopunny, Latte has a firmer understanding of Benji’s potential capabilities than most, and can train him better than anyone else could. That’s the excuse given, anyway, but it’s only a small part of the whole truth on why the Guild chose her.

Which is that Latte once had her own human partner, and that together they saved the world.

When Latte was still a young buneary, she stumbled upon a hapless human in pokémon form, much in the same way as Finn did with Benji. Although shy, withdrawn, and slow to make friends at the time, she easily formed a fast friendship with the outsider, and he was able to draw her out of her shell. After joining their local Guild and going on multiple adventures together, their bond grew ever closer, with Latte effectively viewing her partner as the center of her world.

Eventually, the big apocalyptic threat that always seems to accompany humans made itself known, and after much grit and determination, Latte and her partner were able to defeat it. Despite the hardship they’d faced up to that point, the relief, pride, and closeness to her partner she felt in that moment left her the happiest she’d ever been in her life, triggering her evolution into a lopunny right there on the spot – an evolution that probably never would have happened if she’d never met her friend and remained that sad, lonely girl back in her home village.

The joy, however, was short lived. With his task fulfilled and his original life waiting for him back home, the higher powers determined to return Latte’s partner to the human world. Not long after the pinnacle of her existence, she watched as her closest and only true friend, the person that gave her life meaning, purpose, and who she was secretly deeply in love with, evaporated into a wispy yellow flow of sparks and energy.

And unlike in the games, he never came back.

Latte’s world was devastated. As the initial shock wore off, in its place took anguish, and a desperate pleading with the higher powers to please, please bring her friend back to her. Pleading that went silently, but firmly, unanswered.

In time, the anguish itself faded into numbness, and Latte again found herself feeling utterly, completely alone. She wasn’t even able to celebrate and take solace in the victory that she and her partner had earned, since the Guild swore her to secrecy lest the populace at large learn just how close it had come to complete annihilation – and in turn learn that this has all happened before, and will likely happen again. Outside of the Guild masters, her vanishingly small circle of friends, and a handful of other people privy to the information, nobody knew that they all owed their lives to Latte and her partner.

Trying to fill the void in her soul and distract herself from depression, Latte doubled down on her Guild work, becoming one of the top Explorers and Rescuers in the world’s Guild system. She eventually realized that she couldn’t remain in her home village and ever hope to become whole again, because everything there reminded her of him. Packing up what little she had, she moved far away to another village whose Guild master was sympathetic to her plight, attempting to build herself a new life.

It didn’t take. Between Guild missions and the bottle, Latte’s life went more or less on auto pilot. She took on fewer and fewer jobs, and eventually only took work when the Guild sought her out specifically. Regardless of his advisors’ grumbling, calling her a freeloader and dead weight, the Guild master made no effort to force Latte to do anything. He knew of the sacrifice she had made, and letting her live her life in what little peace she could muster was the least he could do.

Out of Latte’s numbness, a sense of resentment also took root, growing over time. She and her partner were still effectively children when they went on their adventures, and like most children, the transformed human had an upbeat and unblemished view of the world. He would regale her with stories about his world, about things like airplanes, movies, video games, amusement parks, all the different kinds of food you could ever hope to eat and all the different places you could ever hope to visit - they’d even been to their moon! She held the Earth in awe, and wished that someday, somehow, she could go there as well.

But when the time came, he didn’t take her with him. He got to go home to paradise. She was stuck here.

Alone.

In spite of herself, she found herself growing angry at her long-lost friend. A part of her knew that it wasn’t his fault, that he had no more say in the matter than she did, but nevertheless he had abandoned her. The hurt continued to grow, the resentment hardening ever stronger. How dare he. How dare he.

For several years, this was the internal stalemate in which Latte found herself. Going through the motions of life, doing what was needed of her when asked, drowning her sorrows when left to her own devices. The numbness dulled the resentment most of the time, and she had resigned herself to just playing out the clock on life.

That is, until he arrived.

From the first moment she laid eyes on him, Latte knew exactly what Benji was. His mannerisms, the way he moved, the way he talked, the way he held himself. Everyone else might have mistaken him for this clumsy, confused little first stage, but to her it was as glaringly obvious as though she were staring into the sun. And in tow he held another innocent, unsuspecting soul, one that undoubtedly worshiped the ground he walked on. One whose heart would inevitably be shattered into a million pieces and scattered into the wind, never to be made whole again.

All of the anger and resentment that she had fought so hard to bury came flooding back like a tidal wave. All of the broken dreams, all of the unfulfilled promises, of once bright future that now laid forever beyond her grasp. How dare this insipid little bastard come here and cause this to all play out once again. How dare he.

She knew what his being here meant, and knew what was at stake should he fail. With a generous amount of loathing she agreed to mentor the duo and train them for their appointed task, and to do so to the best of her ability. But she would be damned if she allowed history to repeat itself. All she wanted was to get this whole business over and done with, to send this little shit packing back to where he came from.

The sooner, the better.

#pokemon #pokemon mystery dungeon #pmd #lopunny #buneary #latte #benji #lore #writing #worldbuilding

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badkitty3000 · 1 month ago

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You Can't Go Home Again

Chapters 3 and 4

Link to Chapters 1 and 2

Link to Chapter 5

All Five wants to do is rest. But when yet another apocalypse threatens to doom them all, he doesn't have that luxury. This time, the only solution for the Hargreeves to try and save the world is to unite Five with another, alternate version of himself.

Five starts to spiral when he is faced with the alternate life that he could have had, if only he hadn't gone and ruined everything. But maybe, just maybe, there's still time for him to obtain the happy ending he deserves.

An alternate season three rewrite for a request I received.

Warnings: None

More chapters will be posted as I continue writing this multi-chapter fic. Enjoy!

Chapter 3: Family

“Damn it!”

Five threw his pen onto the table in frustration, resting his head in his hands while aggressively raking his fingers through his hair. They had been working for hours, and he was starting to feel that familiar brain fatigue creeping in. With his suit coat and vest discarded on a nearby chair, and his tie hanging loosely down over his wrinkled shirt, Five could have really used another drink. He thought about telling his other self that, or even just going to help himself from the bottle stashed in the desk drawer, but he thought better of it.

“What’s the problem now?” the other him grumbled from the other side of the table. He had the briefcase torn apart, inspecting its inner workings and trying to apply his own research to rebuilding it.

“The problem is that none of this makes any god damn sense!” Five spat out. “The only way to make the closed timeline curve even possible is to have a temporally orientable spacetime. And with these numbers, that’s not happening.”

“The numbers are fine. You’re just not utilizing them correctly. Non-temporal orientability is not an obstacle for the CTC if a given general relativistic spacetime is not temporally orientable…” the other Five started to say.

Five, aggravated with being lectured to by his technically younger self, finished his sentence, “…in a spacetime that is everywhere locally the same as the given spacetime and is itself temporally orientable. You think I don’t know that? I’ve been working on this theory longer than you’ve been alive, shit-for-brains.”

“Well, considering you couldn’t even calculate your correct physical age, I’d say you still need to keep working on it.”

Five stood up and leaned across the table, his teeth gnashing together. “At least I’ve been able to actually do something with my powers. Instead of this…” he gestured at the room around him. “Theoretical nonsense! You egotistical moron!”

The other pointed a finger in his face, which Five promptly swatted out of the way. “Listen, you little jerk off, I have no qualms about kicking your ass into the ground right now.”

“Oh yeah? I’d like to see you try, fetus-brain.”

With a blink, the other Five was across the table, ready to strangle his smaller doppelganger. Anticipating himself doing that, Five created his own portal, appearing on the other side of the room. As both versions stood there with clenched fists, staring one another down, Five rolled his eyes and relaxed his posture. Apparently, you don’t have to be in full psychosis mode to want to kill your other self.

“Fuck, I’m too tired to do this again,” he said out loud, tipping his head back with a sigh. He faced his other self again. “Just sit down, ok? We don’t have time for this.”

“Look, it’s late and I’m tired as hell. I’m going to bed; I’ll work more on this in the morning.”

Five scoffed and attempted a strained smile. “Fine. Do you mind if I continue down here?”

The other him shrugged before heading for the stairs. “Just don’t mess up any of my shit.”

As he watched him trudge up the stairs, Five plopped down onto a chair again. He was exhausted, and he knew he wasn’t going to get anywhere tonight, either. But his siblings were all camped out in the living room up there, after Marie had insisted they stay, and Five had no desire to answer any of their questions at the moment. Let the other jackass deal with them. He just wanted peace and quiet and to let his mind clear for a moment. And to maybe have one more drink.

*******************************************

“Jesus Fucking Christ, what happened to you?”

Five’s eyelids slowly peeled back, feeling like they were permanently fused to his eyeballs. The light was piercing and he groaned loudly before closing them again. His head was splitting open with the world’s worst headache, which was not helped by the fact that he was apparently lying on a very hard surface. His mouth filled with saliva as his stomach churned. As a few more seconds passed, he remembered where he was. And who was talking to him. Fuck, can’t this guy give me a break?

Slowly, Five lifted his head, the movement making the acid in his stomach roil dangerously. With another groan, he sat upright and peered through bleary eyes at the face staring down at him with equal parts concern and disgust. His own face.

“Shit,” his other self murmured with a shake of his head. Reaching out to pick up the empty whiskey bottle that was lying on its side next to Five, he replaced it with a mug of steaming hot coffee. “Here.”

Five gave a short snort of appreciation before picking the mug up and taking a small sip. It was rich and flavorful and he sighed with relief at having finally found a decent cup of coffee. It was more than decent, actually. It tasted like heaven.

The alternate version must have noticed the look that had crossed his smaller self’s face and he chuckled softly. “Yeah, Marie makes the best coffee. One of the reasons I married her.”

Five nodded before wiping a hand down his face in an attempt to wake up. He had passed out while sitting at the desk after polishing off the last of the whiskey. The framed picture of his alternate universe family was lying face down next to where his head had been resting. He remembered staring at it while working his way through several glasses, until finally he had turned it over, unable to torture himself anymore. He quickly righted the frame, hoping that the him that was now sitting in a chair on the other side of the small room hadn’t noticed.

As he peered over at the older-looking face of himself, Five noted the morning stubble that had grown overnight. He passed a hand over his own chin, feeling nothing but baby-smooth skin. With another heavy sigh, he took a sip of coffee to hide the frustration he felt at being stuck in his current body. Look on the bright side. You didn’t wake up with a boner this time, which is a small miracle. Probably too drunk for a boner. Can you get whiskey dick at thirteen?

“So, if I had known you were going to polish off my best booze in the course of a few hours, I wouldn’t have left you unsupervised.”

Five gave another sarcastic snort. “Well, if we end up saving the world, I’ll buy you a new one.”

“I don’t really care about the whiskey; I’m more concerned about the teenager that looks they just got back from a three-day bender in Vegas that is currently sitting in my basement.”

“Not a teenager,” Five mumbled into his coffee.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re an old man and much wiser to the ways of the world than myself. Which you have so clearly demonstrated.”

“So, now what? You going to give me some long heart to heart lecture on the error of my ways?”

The other Five shook his head. “Nope. I figure whatever you’ve gone through has been hellish enough to warrant all of this. I could be right there with you if it weren’t for my family.”

Five’s head was pounding and he closed his eyes again. He didn’t really need to hear from this asshole about how wonderful his life could have been.

“Well, we can’t all be as lucky as you,” Five murmured while rubbing his temples.

“I’m lucky now, I’ll admit it. I have my wife and my kids. But it wasn’t always like that. Remember, I started out the same as you. I was part of the Umbrella Academy and Reginald Hargreeves was my father.”

Five had actually forgotten that part. He nodded. “Did Dad give you the same stupid acorn lecture that I got?”

The other man smiled. “Sure did. Unfortunately, the old bastard ended up being right about that. We weren’t ready.”

“Yeah, that’s an understatement.”

“So, what happened to you?” the alt Five asked with genuine concern.

Five had not been anticipating having to get into all the gritty details, but he also felt trapped and his body was not in any shape to be blinking or even walking away at the moment. He sighed.

“I jumped, same as you. Thought I was a hotshot, too. Until my last jump landed me seventeen years in the future, with the world destroyed and me as the only inhabitant.”

“Shit,” the other Five whispered. “And you couldn’t get back?”

“Nope. I tried everything, but I was stuck. So, after burying the bodies of our siblings, I vowed I’d figure out a way to get back and warn them all about the end of the world. Dad always said that was our destiny. To save the world. I figured he must have been right, and the only ones to fix it were the Umbrella Academy.” He gave a short sarcastic laugh. “Turns out, we’re the ones that caused it.”

The other Five paused for a bit, thinking. “But you did make it back?”

“Forty-some odd years later, yeah, I made it back. In this wonderful body you see here. Just had to do a few side jobs involving conspiracy and multiple murders before being pumped full of bullets by my ex-boss, rewinding time, saving these assholes again, and ending up here. Where, as you can see, things are going great.”

“I see,” the other said. “I’m sorry.”

Five looked up in surprise before staring back down at his coffee. “Yeah.”

“You know, it wasn’t all great for me, either. Not that it was as bad as what happened to you, but it took a while to get where I’m at today.”

Five resisted the urge to roll his eyes. What happened? You stubbed your toe once? “Oh yeah?”

“When I jumped, the same thing happened. It was going great until my last jump that I thought was the same day and time as when I left. I was so cocky and sure of myself. I was so excited to get home and show Reggie how wrong he was that I didn’t even notice the bird on the door where the umbrella should have been. When I burst into family dinner time, that’s when the horrible realization set in. My home wasn’t my home anymore. My entire family was gone and their replacements were sitting there looking like they wanted to kill me. When I saw Ben, though, I was so relieved. For about two seconds, until he called for Dad and Reggie came strolling in.”

Five waited for him to continue. When he did, Five noticed his voice was a little shakier and his eyes looked far away.

“You should have seen how he looked at me. Not that he was ever known for giving any affection, but this was worse. Like I was a bug he wanted to crush beneath his foot. Like he had never seen me before; which of course, he hadn’t.” He swallowed hard. “I tried to explain; to plead my case. But he refused to listen. That was the only home I’d ever known. My siblings were gone and my own father didn’t recognize me.”

“So, what did the old man do?” Five asked, genuinely curious.

“Threw me out. He didn’t even ask if I had a place to go or people I knew that could help. Just…kicked me to the curb like I was some piece of garbage he couldn’t be bothered to deal with. I was thirteen.”

Five nodded sympathetically. “Then what?”

The other version sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair. “Then I spent a couple days and nights on the street, trying to avoid some unsavory people and stay hidden. But eventually the cops caught me loitering around the back alley of a restaurant and they took me in. They didn’t believe my story, of course, even though I had the last name Hargreeves. They also didn’t try real hard to figure out where I came from, so I ended up in the foster care system.”

“And that’s when you were adopted?”

“After about a year of being bounced around to different homes, some of which were not great, I ended up with my current parents. They were kind and they had never had any kids of their own. They were patient with me when I wasn’t very nice to them, and they weren’t freaked out about my powers. After a while, they decided it should be official and they legally adopted me.” He paused. “Because I was already a teen, they asked if I wanted to keep the Hargreeves name. I said yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted the reminder of where I came from and what my first adoptive father put me through.” His voice hardened as Five stared back at his own familiar, cold eyes. “I have been tracking Reginald since that day he threw me out. I know he’s more than just an eccentric billionaire that adopted super heroes for the greater good. I know he’s going to do something horrible. Because he’s an evil man that is only interested in his own self gain.”

Five cleared his throat, not sure what to say. He understood, because of course, he was him, but he was able to look at it from a different point of view.

“You know, that’s not the same Reginald that raised either of us.”

The other Five narrowed his eyes for a moment before nodding slowly. “I’m aware. Doesn’t change the fact that he’s an evil, self-serving bastard that could very well be at the bottom of this kugelblitz stuff.”

“Well, I’ll give you the self-serving bastard part. I’m not sure he has anything to do with the kugelblitz, though. I’m fairly certain we’re the cause alone.”

When he didn’t receive a reply, Five looked into his empty coffee mug and felt his stomach rumble again. He was also starting to realize he probably was not smelling so great.

“Do you mind if I use your shower?” he asked his other self.

“Yeah, sure. Upstairs at the end of the hall, past the kitchen.”

Five nodded. “Thanks.”

Five managed to blink directly into the hallway he needed to be in, effectively avoiding his family that he could hear arguing and laughing in the other room. He needed to sober up just a little more to deal with them. As he headed for the bathroom at the end of the hall, Five noticed the walls on either side were lined in framed pictures. He slowed to look at them as he passed.

Most of them were of the kids. Baby pictures, toddler pictures, first day of school pictures. The boy looked like his mother and the girl was a spitting image of himself. He shook his head, not quite believing how that happened. He stopped when he came to a large portrait near one of the bedrooms. It was a wedding photo, taken during what must have been the bride and groom’s first dance. The version of himself in the photo held his new bride in his arms on the dancefloor. The newlyweds’ foreheads were touching and their eyes were closed, but they were both smiling. The love between them was obvious.

Five swallowed back an emotion he wasn’t sure what to call. Longing maybe? He wasn’t sure, but his chest tightened and he found it difficult to breathe again. Out of habit, he reached to loosen his tie, but found it had been discarded at some point and his shirt collar was already unbuttoned. He took in a gulp of air and tore his eyes from the picture.

“That one’s my favorite,” a voice said behind him and Five jumped.

It was Marie, and Five hastily tried to compose himself, coughing and shoving his hands into his pants pockets. He looked at the floor. “It’s nice.”

Marie came nearer, standing a few inches taller than him. She was holding a plastic shopping bag in one hand. After smiling at the picture on the wall, she looked down at Five. “I just can’t believe how much you look like him.”

“Well, I am him.”

She laughed and Five liked the way it sounded. “Yeah, you’re right. This whole thing is so weird.”

Five chuckled. “That’s for damn sure.”

“I’m sorry for everything that you’ve been through,” she said, her eyes full of concern. When Five’s eyebrows drew together in confusion, she explained, “Your family filled me in.”

“Ah,” he said with a nod, rubbing the back of his neck and glancing nervously around. He was suddenly very aware of the fact that he probably smelled like a distillery. “Thanks.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked.

“With what?”

“I don’t know, anything.”

“Letting us into your home is more than enough. Hopefully I can get my half-wit siblings out of your hair shortly.”

Marie laughed and shook her head. “I like having them here. Five always talks about them, from his other life, and it’s so nice to put faces to names now.”

Five paused for a moment. “He talks about them?”

“Of course! He really missed everyone after he left. He said he never realized it at the time, but he was lucky to have a family like yours. Even if you did all drive each other crazy. He said he knew deep down that if he ever needed anything, they were there for him.”

Five scoffed and looked away for a moment. “I highly doubt that. We aren’t a real family. Just a bunch of people thrown in a house together and bonded by trauma.”

“Well, sometimes that’s all you need to be a family. From what I’ve seen, they love you very much. And I think you love them, too. At least…I know my Five does, so I assume you’re the same.”

Five didn’t know how to respond to that, so he stayed silent. After a minute, he cleared his throat and pointed toward the bathroom. “Mind if I wash up?”

“Oh, not at all. There are clean towels in the cupboard in there. And here,” she held out the bag she had been holding.

“What’s this?”

“Our neighbor has a teenage son, so I asked to borrow some clothes for you. I figured you probably wanted to get out of that suit. Although you do look very handsome in it.”

Ignoring the fact that Marie’s comment was something you’d say to a child that had dressed up for Sunday church, he took the bag she offered. Inside were some jeans, a plain black t-shirt, and clean underwear and socks. He gave her a small smile. “Thank you, Marie. That’s very nice.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, before turning around and walking away.

Five stared after her for a moment, before making his way to the bathroom again. He tried to imagine meeting Marie as a young adult and whether or not he would have ended up dating and then eventually marrying her just like his other self. It was hard to think about since he barely knew her. She seemed nice enough, and was pretty with her light blue eyes and petite frame. But there was no instant connection or swooning feeling that pointed towards the concept of soul mates. He didn’t feel anything towards her except being grateful for her hospitality. Which thank god for that, because the last thing Five needed was to be lusting after his alternate self’s wife while stuck in a teenage body.

After showering, Five stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at his pale, hairless body. He knew he should be a little happy that he hadn’t ended up an infant or a ninety year old man when he screwed up the math. Being young did have its advantages and he hadn’t had this much energy in years. But somewhere closer to nineteen or twenty would have been preferable.

The jeans and black t-shirt that Marie had given him fit surprisingly well, and after changing he went to the kitchen, where his siblings were gathered. Diego was at the stove, a dish towel slung over his shoulder, looking like a short-order cook while taking breakfast orders from everyone.

“One at a time! Damn, you people are animals!” he yelled, while whisking a bowl of scrambled eggs and pouring them into a hot skillet. On another burner was a frying pan with sizzling bacon, and another filled with bubbling pancakes that looked like they were about ready to be flipped.

Five strolled over to the coffee maker, trying to hide his amused smile. He actually had no idea Diego knew how to cook. He realized he didn’t know a lot about any of them. As he poured himself a cup, he took in the mass chaos surrounding him. The kitchen table was filled with his siblings, all talking over one another.

“But I don’t like blueberries,” Klaus whined.

“Too bad, Viktor wanted blueberry pancakes, so that’s what I made. You can have eggs if you don’t want any,” Diego huffed while turning the bacon.

Klaus glared at Viktor, who just gave him a smirk in return. Allison sighed loudly and dramatically.

“You guys, Diego cannot possibly make all of our requests, he’s just one person.”

“Thank you, Allison,” Diego said with a smile.

“Now, if you don’t mind, can I just have some egg whites with a tiny piece of bacon on the side, but make sure it doesn’t have too much fat?” she said in her sweetest actress voice.

“Oh! If you’re going to make egg whites, can I have some too? Maybe with some avocado toast? Thanks, babe,” Lila said, coming over to give Diego a small slap on the butt.

“Don’t worry about me, bro. You know I’ll eat whatever. Just make sure the portion is big enough,” Luther added.

Diego growled. “I can’t believe Mom did this all those years without ripping all her wiring out. You guys are unbelievable.”

As Five observed everything, he smiled into his coffee mug, trying to hold in a laugh. What a bunch of assholes, he thought affectionately. Maybe I really did miss them.

“So, Fivey…did you get the time thingy straightened out yet?” Klaus asked, leaning back so that his chair balanced on two legs. Luther stuck out his hand to lower it back to the ground with a stern look. Klaus rolled his eyes.

“No, not yet,” Five replied. “We’ll make some headway today, though, I’m sure.”

“He’s pretty great though, right?” Klaus said.

“Who?”

“You! I mean, the other you. He seems pretty chill.”

“Chill?” Five asked, feeling his jaw tighten.

“Yeah,” Luther added, “Once the psychosis resolved, he seemed like a pleasant guy.”

“And?” Five asked, gesturing in the air with his coffee cup. “Your point?”

“Well, you know…it’s just surprising because…” Luther stammered.

Diego spoke up after flipping a pancake in the air and catching it expertly in the pan. “What the big boy over here means is that this other you isn’t a dick. Which, I think we can all agree, is a bit of a shock.”

Five glanced around the kitchen at his family that just a few seconds ago had actually been giving Five a good feeling. Now, just like always, they went and ruined it.

“Well, if he’s so goddamn amazing, why don’t you ask him to take my place in this family, because quite honestly, I could use the break.” Five gave a sarcastic chuckle and shook his head. “It’s never enough with you people, is it? I am working my ass off to try and get us back home AGAIN, but once more I seem to be the bad guy here.”

“Five…that’s not…” Viktor started to say before Five cut him off.

“No, really, let me apologize. While I am running on no sleep, inside a body that is smaller than one of Luther’s turds, having to deal with another version of myself that, let me tell you, is not as great as you think he is, all while trying to figure out the complexities of time travel, I will be sure and work on my manners so as not to offend anyone.”

The others glanced around nervously, but remained silent. Five waited to see if anyone had any smart-ass comments for him, but seeing as how they all looked like he would disappear from their sight, he would happily oblige.

Angrily topping off his coffee and swiping a few pancakes off a stack that Diego had just plated, he shoved one of them in his mouth before turning to walk out.

“Fuh-ing uh-gra-ful,” he mumbled with his mouth full as he stalked away to the basement again.

Chapter Four: A Different Angle

“I think I’m making some progress here,” Five said as he stood a few feet back from the white board and crossed his arms while reviewing his work. “What do you think?”

The other him glanced up from the miscellaneous parts that were strewn about the table in front of him. After looking the proofs over, he nodded. “Yeah, that looks right.”

From above, Marie’s voice called down to them. “Five?”

“Yeah?” they both answered in unison before looking back at one another.

“I think she means me,” the other Five said with a slight smile.

Five blushed, turning away. “Right.”

“Yeah?” he called up to his wife.

“The garbage disposal is doing that thing again. Can you come look at it?”

“Be right there!” He turned to Five. “I’ll be right back. Meanwhile, take a look at this over here; tell me what you think.”

As the other man left, Five began looking over the instruments and mechanisms on the table. Some were from the briefcase and some were of the other Five’s design. To the average person, it looked like a bunch of coils, wires, and dials, mixed with other things that looked like tiny spark plugs and fuses. Five started to play with a few of them when he heard small footsteps coming down the stairs. When he looked up, the little boy he’d seen from the pictures was standing at the bottom.

“Hello,” Five said.

“Hi,” the boy replied. After they regarded one another for a few moments, he spoke again. “You look like my dad from the pictures at my Grandma’s house.”

The boy was about seven or eight years-old, with blonde hair and blue eyes that matched his mother’s. He was small and skinny for his age, though, which Five could relate to.

“Yes, I’m sure I do,” Five answered.

“Are you my dad?”

“Uh, well, it’s complicated.” When the boy continued looking at him, as if expecting a better answer than that, Five continued. “I’m not your dad, no. But rather I’m a different permutation of him from another timeline. We are the same person, but yet not.”

The boy nodded, pursing his lips together in thought. “That makes sense.”

Five smiled. The boy appeared older and wiser than his age. Which, again, Five was familiar with.

Just then, a flash of blue appeared out of nowhere, revealing the little girl from the pictures, as she blinked directly in front of her brother. She was younger, maybe by about two years or so, and she stuck out her tongue at her older sibling.

“Haha! I didn’t use the stairs!” she gleefully sneered at him.

“Good for you. No one cares, Maddie,” the boy retorted, although Five could see he looked embarrassed.

“You can blink?” Five asked, surprised.

“Yep!” Maddie said with a proud smile. “Jack can, too, but he’s bad at it.”

“That’s not true!” the older boy shot back.

“Ok, then blink. I dare you,” she taunted.

Her older brother’s face turned red and Five was afraid he might start crying. Instead, he clenched his fists, emitting a small glow of blue around them, before relaxing them again. Letting out a loud exhale of air, he looked defeated.

“See?” Maddie laughed. “Told ya!” Then she stuck out her tongue again and blinked away.

“She’s so annoying!” Jack complained, stomping his foot and crossing his arms over his chest. “She thinks she’s so cool.”

Five nodded. He wasn’t sure how much he wanted to get involved in this matter. But he was fascinated that his power was passed on to another generation.

“So, what’s the problem? Why couldn’t you blink just now?” Five asked, not sugar coating anything.

Jack shrugged. “I don’t know. I can do it, but then sometimes if I start thinking too hard, my head gets all messed up. It’s like all the numbers get scrambled up in my head and then I can’t do it. My dad says I just need to concentrate and try harder.”

“Does that work?”

“Not really. I don’t know, maybe?” Jack scratched at his arm and looked at the floor. “I mean, I try to concentrate, but then either nothing happens or I end up blinking to the wrong place. My dumb sister has always been able to do it good, even though she’s younger than me.”

“Well,” Five corrected.

“Well what?”

“Your dumb sister has always been able to do it well.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “You sound just like my dad.”

Five let out a small laugh. “Sorry, force of habit. I’m sure you don’t need two dads telling you what to do.”

Jack shook his head with a smile and then cocked his head to the side. “How old are you?”

“Fifty Eight. How old are you?”

“Seven. How come you don’t look old?”

“It’s a long story, but let’s just say I understand numbers getting scrambled in your head and blinking to the wrong place. It must be genetic.”

When Jack just nodded, remaining silent, Five continued to look at him thoughtfully. There wasn’t much physical resemblance between them, but Five felt a small kinship with this boy. Annoying sibling, failed blinks, a father that tells you to try harder…Five could sympathize.

“Have you tried concentrating less?” Five asked.

Jack slowly shook his head. “Less?”

Five sat down in one of the chairs and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “If I tell you a secret about blinking, will you promise not to tell my family up there? I have a reputation to uphold.”

Jack nodded eagerly. “Yeah, I promise.”

“It’s not always about the math or how smart you are. A lot of it is feeling, and just allowing your mind to relax. Don’t think so hard about it. Rely on your instincts.”

“What’s an instinct?”

“It’s like listening to your body when it tells you to do something.”

“Ok…” Jack said, looking at the floor again.

“Do you want to try again?” Five asked.

Jack shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets, which Five noted with amusement. “I don’t know, I guess. I probably can’t do it, though.”

“Well, just try. I promise I won’t even look.”

The boy nodded. “Yeah, ok.”

Five turned his chair around, so he was facing away from Jack. “Now, pick a spot that’s fairly easy, like the other side of the room. Run a few quick numbers and then clear your head. Relax and let your body do the rest.”

Five waited for a few minutes. He kept his promise and didn’t turn around, letting the boy have his space. He could hear him breathing loudly and muttering under his breath. After a while, Five was beginning to think he had put too much pressure on the kid and he wasn’t going to be able to do it. Until he heard the familiar sound of the air warping near him and Jack appeared on the other side of the room, facing Five.

The small boy’s face was still screwed up in concentration, his eyes shut tight and his hands clenched into fists. When he opened his eyes, though, and realized where he was, his face broke into a huge grin.

“I did it!”

Five nodded and gestured to him with his hand. “I told you. You just needed to look at it from a different angle, that’s all.”

Jack laughed before balling up his fists and ripping open another portal; appearing near the stairs again. He squealed and pumped his fists in the air.

“Yes! I can’t wait to rub this in Maddie’s face!”

“Alright, big shot, don’t get ahead of yourself. Blinking across a room is one thing. Don’t be thinking you’re hot shit with these puny little jumps you just did. You need a lot more practice before you try anything big. Otherwise you might find yourself on the roof in your underpants and no one wants that.”

“Did that happen to you?” Jack asked with big eyes.

“Maybe once or twice. But remember, you promised you wouldn’t tell my family.”

Jack laughed again, just as his dad came down the stairs. “Oh, I see you met Jack.”

Five nodded. “We were just having a little lesson in blinking.”

The other Five’s eyebrows knitted together as he looked down at his son who was grinning up at him.

Five gestured to the boy. “Go ahead, show him. But remember, keep it small.”

Jack nodded before closing his eyes and biting his lip in concentration. Then his shoulders relaxed as he opened his eyes, at the same time disappearing in a flash of blue. When he popped up a few feet away, he looked up at his dad, waiting for his reaction.

His father’s mouth dropped open and then his face broke into a giant smile. “Holy shit, Jack! That was amazing!”

Jack laughed, right before reversing his new skill and jumping back to where he had been standing. His dad scooped him up and hugged him. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks, dad! Now I can blink just like you and Maddie and she can’t make fun of me anymore.”

“Now, just remember, don’t try anything big yet…” the other Five started to warn him.

“Oh yeah, I know. I need to practice more so that I don’t end up on the roof in my underwear.”

“Uh..yeah…” Five’s other self agreed in confusion before setting his son down.

“Can I try to the top of the stairs?” Jack asked eagerly.

“I suppose so.”

In a flash, Jack was gone from their sight and the two Fives could hear his excited voice and the sound of his feet as he hopped up and down excitedly on the floor above them. “I did it! Hey mom, look!”

Both men regarded one another and Five was wondering if he’d overstepped his boundaries. But his other self just smiled and shook his head. “I’ve been trying to work with him on that for months. How did you do that?”

Five shrugged. “I just gave him a different way of looking at things. Sometimes that’s all it takes.”

The other him nodded thoughtfully. “Thank you for that.”

Five was caught off guard by his sincerity and he looked away, uncomfortable. “No big deal. Seems like a good kid.”

“He is. He’s the best.”

Five nodded again, staring at the table of weird electrical parts in front of him. Suddenly, he jumped up, knocking his chair over in the process. “Holy fuck! I see it! I see what we’ve been missing! God, we’re so stupid!”

“Speak for yourself. What do you see?”

Five took two gears off the table and held them up. “We’ve been looking at time dilation all wrong. Instead of trying to produce special relativity, we should be producing—”

“General relativity,” the other him finished. “Shit, you’re right.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Why didn’t we see that earlier?”

“I don’t know, but this makes so much more sense now. Do you see it?”

“Yeah,” his alternate nodded, a smile starting to form on his face. “Yeah, I see it.” He chuckled. “If we can get this up and running, then maybe I can finally figure out what our old man has been up to.”

Five frowned, a little concerned that he seemed to be so focused on Reginald. “Let’s just start with stopping the world from imploding, ok?” He looked back down at the table full of tiny, metal pieces. “Alright, we’re going to need more of your wife’s coffee, because this is going to take a while.”

Thanks for reading and if you want to be tagged for future chapters, let me know!

@kaybreezy3000

#five hargreeves #five hargreeves fanfic #number five #number five fanfic #umbrella academy #umbrella academy fanfic #tua fanfic #tua 3 #fanfiction requests #fanfiction #badkittywrites #multi chapter #tua #the umbrella academy

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stratocumulusperlucidus · 6 months ago

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WIP REC

I love love love reading WIPs, the anticipation, the excitement of getting the notification for a new chapter, even sometimes the cliffhangers... So here are some of the lovely fics I'm currently reading!

Oh and if you read these, please consider taking a minute to leave a comment, let the author know you appreciate their work 💖

This Is More of a Comment Than a Question by @caterpills

Rating: Mature | Chapters: 3/10

Three weeks before Henry Fox's tour for his fourth, highly anticipated, awards-bait novel A Brief War in December begins, his publicist Janella breaks her foot on a bunny slope at Windham. Alex can't be mad at her, even though he kind of is. Saying it out loud would be like kicking her when she was down, and she already went down a literal mountain in the worst way possible. Now crammed in Rafael Luna's corner office, Janella is shooting Alex extremely apologetic looks while slumped on her crutches, wearing a bright orange cast. The conversation about who is going to be joining Henry Fox on his multi-city trek across the U.S. is also going downhill. Alex is feeling the same sort of free fall while standing still. Because out of all the publicists available in their tiny underfunded department, the only one left to escort their company's best-selling author is regrettably him. The problem is, well, Alex absolutely hates Henry Fox.

Or: Alex is the publicist for Mountchristen Publishers, and is stuck on a two-week tour with their best-selling, but frustrating, author Henry Fox.

Her Royal Highness by @tailsbeth-writes

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 5/?

'Shaan, can you please put an appointment in my diary?' 'Certainly sir, what is it for?' 'A reminder to kill Alex for getting me into this mess.' Shaan tried to hold back a smirk as he stepped back, tapping away on his tablet. 'Personally I think the blue glitter really brings out your eyes, sir.' This terrible idea had started like most of Alex’s did, a seedling planted by the most chaotic of the chaos demons; Nora.

or How Prince Henry ended up as a guest judge on RuPaul's Drag Race UK.

the full spectrum of human emotion by @firenati0n

Rating: Mature | Chapters: 3/6

Alex grips his hand tighter. They’re going to need to have a long, hard conversation in the next five minutes, or else Alex is going to combust right here in Pez’s fancy office. Explode for all of Midtown Manhattan to see. Here lies what remains of Alex, for all the world to witness—taken out by a rogue marriage proposal from his evil boss-turned-fiancé.

Or: Working under editor Henry Fox-Mountchristen was only supposed to be Step One in Alex’s plan of achieving his big dreams—but when his boss winds up facing an even bigger problem, potential deportation, Alex finds he isn’t just a beleaguered assistant anymore. He’s the solution.

It’s fine. They only have to fool his friends, his family, the United States Government…and themselves.

Life Is Not A Movie (But We Can Have The Fairytale) by @lfg1986-2

Rating: Explicit | Chapters: 3/?

Three years after the smashing success of the first Red, White and Royal Blue film, Nicholas and Taylor are preparing to return to their roles as Henry and Alex to film the sequel. After a late night of catching up with each other and reestablishing their close bond just before rehearsals begin, they wake up to find themselves in a crazy twist of fate, where fiction blends with reality and the lines between fictional characters and the actors who portray them become irrevocably blurred.

What happens when Taylor is transported into the movie universe and comes face to face with Prince Henry, while Nick wakes up to find Alex Claremont-Diaz in his living room in the place of his friend and costar? Both pairs must work together to figure out how to get themselves back where they belong, and along the way they discover some things about themselves and each other that has the potential to alter their relationships forever.

take me back to San Francisco by headabovethewater / @getmehighonmagic

Rating: Explicit | Chapters: 2/8

“You don’t look like you’re having a very good time,” a soft voice suddenly startles him from his thoughts. Henry’s entire body jerks and he spills some of his drink down the front of his shirt.

“Oh, bloody-” He leans over to put his drink on the table and starts wiping at his shirt. “No, I’m- It’s not that, it’s-” He glances fleetingly at the stranger and then down at his shirt again, before his brain finally registers that oh, glasses, dark curls, white smile, exposed chest. Henry’s head snaps back up and his lips part in astonishment. Handsome doesn’t even begin to cover it. Him.

“Hi,” the man says, then chuckles. He hands Henry a napkin and gestures towards one of the other chairs at the table. “Would you mind?”

or, Henry and Alex meet on vacation in San Francisco and an instant spark between them has both of them unable to let the other go. With only two weeks to spend together and the knowledge that it can't last beyond that, it's just a massive, insurmountable recipe for disaster.

Or is it?

Unattended / Unsent mails by amnesia_on_ice / @amnesiaa-on-ice

Rating: General Audiences | Chapters: 4/?

Alex is a Singer Songwriter, henry is his arch nemesis Actor but also secretively writer. There is a long running feud between Henry and Alex. Now they are meeting for the first time in person in a vanity after party and the stan twitter have lots to digest of the meeting.

The story of Unattended/ unsent mails.

the drag of your lips by rizcriz

Rating: Mature | Chapter 2/3

Alex isn’t sure how he got here.

Here being pressed into the couch, his roommate straddling his lap and warm against every point they’re touching, soft lips moving against his own in the most sensual, leisurely pattern that Alex’s fingers instinctively flex where they’re clinging into his lower back. He’s hard in his pants, straining towards Henry, but there’s no desperate hands grasping, no drive to take this any further.

Or, Alex just really wants to make out with someone. Henry helpfully volunteers.

Foxden Park by myheartalive / @myheartalivewrites

Rating: Explicit | Chapters: 4/9

“Yes, Alex, what a terrible destiny,” Nora says. “To be hosted for a week by all these charming rich people, who have bent over backwards to accommodate us, including sending their own carriage into town to fetch us. How very dare we drag you into their nefarious scheme.”

—

Invited to a week-long house party at the Duke of Windsor’s country residence, Alex Claremont-Diaz does not expect to find anything to enjoy about his time there. What he does find is Lord Henry, the duke’s younger brother—and a boatload of things to learn about himself.

Seven days in the country in a duke's house. What could possibly happen?

#fic rec #red white and royal blue #rwrb fic #rwrb #wip rec #fanfiction #ao3 #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #firstprince #userstratocumulusperlucidus

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oleander-nin · 1 year ago

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The Weight of a Letter(2)

A/N: Guess who forgot it was Wednesday💀. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

Taglist? If you want to be added or removed, just say so: @ssak-i @sinister-things @ancreativename @t0ta11y-n0t-cup1d @idiotreblogger

Part 1 - Next

Words: 3233

Content warnings: mentions of stalking and paranoia, technical parental abandonment, elevators, my writing, multi-chap fic

Summary: The first one I received was innocent. Nothing more than a love letter from a secret admirer. But as more letters came, so did the fear and paranoia. Guess secret admirers aren't so romantic after all.

Chapter 2: A Lasting Effort

My eyes drift once more to the clock in the upper corner of the room, every tick of the hands captivating my attention more than the teacher could ever dream of. My leg bounces under the desk, my hands sneaking the supplies on my desk back into my bag, hoping to the stars above I wouldn’t be caught and held back. I jump at the sound of the bell despite my preparation, all caution quickly thrown to the wind as I toss my bag over my shoulder. I catch the tail end of the homework reminder as I dash out of the door, weaving in between the other students and faculty. The simple thought of the dreaded homework made me have half a mind to become a dropout, knowing that it’d be a pain to complete in time. It blew my mind that she had the nerve to assign two pages of notes to go over and solve by the next class, right before finals.

I keep my head down as I run through the halls, muscle memory helping me find my way to my locker. While stopping between each class can get annoying, I really did appreciate not having to drag all of my belongings to every single class. I adjust my bag on my shoulder, wanting nothing more than to drop off the unnecessary supplies and books weighing me down.

I turn the last corner and stop in front of my locker, the click of the dial as it turns soothing my ragged nerves. Right before I get to the last number of the sequence, two hands land harshly on my shoulders. I jump in surprise and my hand turns violently from the sudden movement, cursing under my breath as I mess up the number sequence. I try to pick up the latch, wiggling it around as I desperately try to convince my locker to open, but alas, it stays shut. I slam my palm into the locker, venting out a small bit of frustration before I turn to look at the cheeky-eyed perpetrator.

“Seriously Irma? You couldn’t have waited ‘till, oh I don’t know, my locker was actually open?” I say, my lips pressing together into a thin line. I glare playfully at her before turning to start opening my locker once more, my hands spinning the dial to get the numbers to get the correct numbers in place. The lanky brunette shrugs as she moves to lean up against my locker, her smug grin never falling off her face.

“I mean, would you have rathered me do it when you had your laptop in your hands? I think doing it now was a sign of my humble mercy.”

I ignore her antics as I finally getting my locker open. I do a small fist pump in celebration, a grin of accomplishment on my face. Her laughter reaches my ears, her being obviously amused by my simple achievement. I bat at her hands that have started to poke at my side, glaring at the grinning brunette once more.

Her babbling chatter reaches my ear as she starts to tell me about her upcoming basketball game tomorrow, her fists pumping up and down in small motions as she bounces on the balls of her feet. I swung my bag so it was in front of me, making it easier to start depositing my supplies into my bag. I mess with the zippers, struggling to get my bag open when the chatter stops and two hands are on my shoulders once more, shaking me violently. I pretend to bite at her hands and she lets go, squealing as she points into my locker. I follow her finger, something catching my eye. In the middle of my locker atop the discarded papers and old notebooks sits a little white envelope, my name scrawled on the front alongside a heart-shaped box. Sitting on top of both objects was a single red tulip in full bloom, the color vibrant and eye-catching. The flowers' delicate perfection amazed me, almost seeming as if it wasn’t real, something manufactured by delicate, loving hands. I set my bag down on the ground next to my feet, my hands grabbing at the objects as if I was in a trance.

The brunette snorts at the sight, laughing as she gazes upon my hypnotic state. Her laughter breaks my trance and I roll my eyes at her, popping open the box of chocolates. I look them over, smiling slightly. It was quite obvious they were homemade, the chocolates muddled and misshapen with a piece of parchment paper lining the inside of the small heart box. My heart melts at the sincerity, it was sweet to know someone took such care to make me something like this. Irma snickers slightly at the sight of the chocolate, bumping my shoulder with her own. “They’ll need to get their money back, those look more like lumps of coal than chocolate.”

I playfully hit her on her side and she laughs, covering her mouth as it turns into a snort. I roll my eyes, sticking my tongue out at her. “You’re just jealous no one made you chocolate too.” I toss one of the sweets into my mouth and let it melt on my tongue as I open up the envelope, caressing the flower in my hand while I read.

Dear (Y/n),

I was told that getting things off one’s chest would help clear the mind, so I made the executive decision to let you be aware of my interest in you. You have wormed your way into my heart, and while a part of me detests that, I have finally come to the conclusion that this interest I have in you is better than it is worse. The mere thought of you makes me smile, and I want you more than anything in the world. You are the reason I strive to be all I am and I will not disappoint you. You are more special to me than any of my inventions, and despite my efforts, nothing I do even comes close to how you make me feel. A part of me is scared of expressing my feelings to you in a more 'normal' way lest you react negatively, so I chose this method of semi-confession instead. I am not quite ready to reveal myself to you, and this method of expression seems appropriate in keeping my anonymity while still appeasing the need to make you aware of how I feel. You truly are the most important thing to me and one day I will find the courage to tell you properly. I would give everything to you if you asked, I only need you to wait a little longer. I can’t describe my feelings in the way I want to, and I have never been a man of words, so I hope the gifts and the knowledge that someone as great as I is formally addressing his desire for you suffice for now. I learned how to make chocolate for you, and I would do so much more for you given the chance. I know you will not be disappointed when you figure out who I am, after all, there is no one better for you than me.

-Othello Von Ryan

When I notice peering eyes trying to read over my shoulder, I angle the note towards the brunette to make it easier for her to read. I nudge the open box of sweets towards her, silently offering her to try one. They were really good, much better tasting than they looked. Knowing the mystery man learned how to make them just for me made them all the more sweeter. Accepting the chocolate with a grin, she pops it into her mouth as she bends down to see the love letter. She seemed to scan more than read however as she quickly looked back up at me, curiosity painting her features.

“Someone’s egotistical, eh? I gotta admire their resolve though. Let’s just wait to see if they’re as great as they claim to be. Got any idea who it is?” Irma scans the note once more to see if the handwriting was familiar, analyzing every loop and smudge in the letters. A slight frown tugs at the corners of her mouth, unable to match the handwriting with anyone she knew.

“Nope,” I pop the p at my statement, mentally running through all the people I know. The letter was too sincere seeming to be a joke, but I also couldn’t quite trust it. I didn’t know anyone who might write something like this, let alone have the possibility to love me enough to claim such things. “Can’t say I do. Especially no one called ‘Von Ryan’. I’m more concerned about how they got all this into my locker, however. The slits aren’t big enough to fit the chocolates or the tulip.”

The side shaved girl mutters something at my shoulder, and I turn my head to give her my full attention. She looks at me and shakes her head. “Sorry, I’m just trying to think of possible people who wrote it. And yeah, how they managed to get it into your locker is strange, but maybe you left it slightly dislodged earlier?”

I think back to the earlier passing periods, completely sure I shut my locker all the way. I know I shut it all the way, considering I always jiggle the lock to make sure it’s shut. I had trouble freshman year with people stealing my stuff and I wanted to make sure it never happens again.

But maybe I didn’t do it as well as I thought. Doubt starts to flood my mind as I try to picture how I shut my locker earlier. I couldn’t quite remember if I did it as securely as I usually did this morning, considering I was in a rush. I shrug it off, assuming they might have shoved it in somehow completely ignoring how the chocolate box was way too thick to fit through the small slits, and that the flower would’ve been demolished as soon as someone tried. Maybe tomorrow I can try to see if I can brute force open my locker and check if that’s how the gifts were delivered.

I put the note back into its envelope and put it into my bag along with the chocolates, being careful not to crush the tulip I was keeping in my palm. I grabbed the rest of my stuff out of my locker as well, carefully checking to make sure I had everything I needed before we left. “Oh well, hopefully I’ll figure it out soon. I mean, the worst it can be is a prank, right?”

My friend nods, shooting me an enthusiastic smile accompanied with a thumbs up. “Yeah, that’s the spirit! You’ll find out who it is soon. And keep me updated, will you? This is so cool, it’s like a bad rom-com!”

I laugh at their excitement, nodding as we begin to walk towards the front exit of the school. I let Irma change the subject to her upcoming basketball game against a rival school. I push the letter to the back of my mind as she gushes about different strategies and such. Figuring out who sent it can wait, after all, it’s only a love letter, chocolates, and a flower. What’s the harm in that?

I push open the front door of the school, holding it open as I bow mockingly. “For you, m’lady.” I tease, grinning at her. Irma rolls her eyes, bapping her palm against my forehead.

“You’re such a dork, you know that?” She states, pushing me to the side of the sidewalk farthest from the road. I stumble into the strip of grass lining the concrete, laughing as I move back onto the path. We link arms, pinkies interlocking as we continue to throw insults at each other in good fun, occasionally shoving each other towards the grass.

We move more into the city area, heading to our shared apartment building. I glance around the area, shrinking back slightly as the hair on my neck raises. The feeling of being watched floods my veins, my hand not holding the tulip moving to fiddle with the hem of my shirt. Irma notices and pulls me closer, looping an arm around my shoulder. “Are you still seeing the shadows following you?”

I nod, sighing. Irma grimaces, gently squeezing my arm. “It’s been 3 months, Y/n. You need to tell someone.”

I shake my head. She made a good point, but what would I tell someone? I kept seeing shadowy figures following me? I always felt like I was being watched? I’d be passed off as crazy or paranoid. It wouldn’t go anywhere. Plus, it’s not like I had proof. My fingers rub at the petals of the flower in my hand, feeling soft against my fingertips. Irma shakes me slightly at my non-verbal no, groaning in slight frustration. “I believe you, if it makes you feel better.”

I roll my shoulders, humming in response as I lean my head against her as we walk. Irma pats my arm in sympathy, her eyes darting across the street for incoming cars or danger. She opens her mouth to say something else, but closes it again. She leans her head against mine, not knowing how to help. So instead, she changes the subject. “Any word from that mystery guy at the dump you won’t tell me about?”

I snort, rolling my eyes fondly. I was thankful for the topic shift, not wanting to discuss my unwarranted paranoia for the past few weeks. “Nope. Haven’t seen him since. At this point, I think he’s hiding from me.”

Irma chuckles at that, letting go of me as she moves to open the door of the apartment building. I duck under her outstretched arm, reaching the door before her. I open it, bowing once more as I grin at her. “Here you are, m’lady.”

Irma shakes her head, moving into the building as I follow behind, letting the door swing shut behind us. We make our way to the elevators, Irma pressing on the call button repeatedly. I stand beside her, bouncing on the balls of my feet in anticipation. “You’re coming to my game, right?” Irma asks, looking at me as the elevator arrives. We stand to the side as a small group of people come out, moving in once they disperse. Irma hits the buttons for our respective floors, her hands running over the braille underneath the buttons in comfort.

“It’s tomorrow, right?” I confirm, looking at the lanky teen. She nods, grinning. My stomach lurches slightly when the elevator starts to move, my back leaning against the wall.

“Oh, it’s going to be so cool! I’m going to beat that stupid school into the ground, they won’t even know what hit them!” Her eyes are filled with joyful delight, her fists moving up and down in a quick repeated motion. I smile at her excitement, happy she’s so pumped for the game. I came to all of her games, there was no way I would miss this one.

The elevator stops on Irma’s floor and she gets off, waving at me as she adjusts her backpack on her shoulder. “See you tomorrow then! Remember, the game starts at 10 o’clock in the morning!”

I watch her walk down the hall as the elevator doors close, moving to a corner of the metal box and pressing my back against it. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. I pull and twist at my fingers as the elevator brings me higher, stopping at my floor with a small ding. I exit quickly, making a beeline for my apartment. I unlock the door with the key I kept in my backpack, jiggling the doorknob up and to the right so it actually opens. I take off my shoes before stepping into the foyer, the faded carpet on the ground feeling plush against my socked feet. I try to ignore the bags piled next to the door, the shadows of my parents in their room still packing leaking into the hall. I drop my bag off on my bed, moving to the kitchen with the tulip still in my hand.

I grab an empty vase from atop the fridge, bringing it to the sink and filling it with water. I set the tulip in it, carrying it back to my room. I wipe the vase with my shirt, trying to clear off all the water droplets before setting it on my desk. I look at it for a moment more before leaving my room, shutting the door softly behind me.

My parents exit their room, both discussing their trip. I step out of their way, letting them cross the hall to put their stuff down at the door. One turns to me, smiling gently. They cup my face in their hands, squishing my cheeks. I try to pull away from their touch but they huff angrily, over exaggerating a pout.

“I’m leaving tonight and you won’t even let me cuddle you? You’re my kid, you can’t pull away.” They say, continuing their assault on my cheeks. I finally pull back enough and they let go, huffing. They pout while my other parents stands at the door, looking over the luggage.

“Is that everything?” They ask, turning to the other who had me trapped in a hug. My captor nods, grinning. "That's all. We're ready to go." They give me one more squeeze before letting me go, moving to grab some of the bags.

My parent who was by the door earlier cross the space to stand next to me, pulling me into a tight hug. I hug back, sighing softly. They kiss me on the forehead, rubbing my back comfortingly. "Don't do anything stupid while we're gone, okay? We'll be back before you know it. You're turning 18 in a month, we'll call you, okay? No parties, and try not to die or get kidnapped while we're gone. We'll be back by the time summer ends."

I sigh, leaning my head on their chest. They pat my back before pulling away, grabbing the rest of the bags before moving to join my other parent who had already left. "Don't be stupid. We love you."

And then they're both gone, luggage in their arms as the door shuts behind them. I stand stupidly in the hallway for a moment more, not sure how to feel. My emotions are high and my hands are shaking, clenched into fists at my side. I stare at the door, a part of me willing them to walk back through, to laugh and joke with me like they weren't going to leave for half a year. Like they weren't going to miss my 18th birthday. I shake my head, turning on my heel and heading back to my room. It didn't matter. They were gone and there was nothing I could do about it but wait. I had all the time in the world. I frown, my lip trembling slightly. I move onto my bed and slide under the covers, pulling the blankets over my head. I promised myself I wouldn't cry.

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sp-high-au · 2 months ago

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OOC Info Yapping😔

Hey! Welcome to my little shitstorm of an au! Obviously I’m gonna talk about it for a little bit because I never learn when to stfu and I feel like there’s a couple of things that I need to bring up to tie the whole thing together.

So this layout is kinda new to me. Technically is a roleplay but also at the same time there’s not gonna be any interaction with other rp blogs. Y’all are more than welcome to rb for your own roleplays though. There’ll be plenty of random shitposts that can be taken out of context.

This blog is being made to mimic an old school website. Y’know the ones where there’s an interactive wall for the students to post on? Yeah that. The post on this blog are going to be a mix of three things (technically four but I don’t think my ooc/admin posts really count).

ANNOUNCEMENT POSTS: Announcement posts are going to be used in place of actual posts for a site admin. Most of the time they’re going to be for lore drops that aren’t really relevant but are kinda fun to put into the storyline. For example: a background character or a character who isn’t that relevant to the story arcs birthday.

WALL POSTS: These wall posts are supposed to be posted “by students.” Once again they’re going to be used to drop more lore crumbs because high schoolers gossip a ridiculous amount and I think it’s funny.

FIC POSTS: The final type of posts are going to be fic posts! These will be link drops to my ao3. The fics will contain the main lore/arcs. They’ll also be reblogged to my main.

This story has odd publishing schedule to say the least. There are twenty-two story arcs. The storyline itself starts September 2nd 2024 and ends June 18th 2026. Each story is also planned to be posted on an accurate date, like in real time.

One arc is equal to one month. For example Arc 1: Intro to The Losers Club, takes place throughout September. The first official fic is going to be labeled like this on any master list: 1.1: (INSERT TITLE HERE). These works will either be oneshots or multi chapters. Any multi chapter will be split into “parts” like if a multi chapter is four chapters in total and there’s only two chapter total it’ll be labeled simply like this: 2/4.

Also there are some darker themes in these stories! Firstly, it’s high school. What high schooler doesn’t have issues? Secondly, it’s South Park and that itself is pretty self explanatory. And finally, I’m fucking delusional and think it’s funny.

Speaking of me though, HI!!! If you’re a mutual on my main who’s stumbled upon this mess, yes it’s Clouded. If you don’t know know who I am you can find me at my main: @justyourtypicalwriter where I am much more active and my posts are very much unplanned, unlike this blog. It’s become a favorite project of mine in the short time I’ve been working on it though and I hope you grow to enjoy it as much as I do!

Here’s one of my many, many picrews of myself that I normally use as pfps because I have a problem and that was a lot of writing💀

BUT I’M STILL YAPPING BECAUSE YOU MAY BE ASKING:

“Oh Clouded what are the ships in this au?”

And to my rare pair lovers I say:

“You’re eatin’ good tonight bbg😘”

Because as much as a Style girlie I am, there are SO MANY absolutely amazing rare pairs that get such little recognition. I know how excited I get when I see a rare pair in a popular fic or comic so there’s some food for my fellow rare pair lovers.

SHIPS:

Staig

Weidi

Tyde

Dip

Rebstella

Gregstophe

Jimmy/Nichole (what’s their ship name y’all)

There’s probably more but I can’t think of any lmao-

HAPPY READING!!!

#south park #south park au #high school au #south park fanfiction #kyle broflovski #stan marsh #kenny mccormick #eric cartman #butters stotch #wendy testaburger #bebe stevens #craig tucker #tweek tweak #clyde donovan #tolkien black #jimmy valmer #red mcarthur #nichole daniels #heidi turner

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chickenkupo · 11 months ago

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Just My Luck

Summary: The lands are ruled by ruthless gods of various levels of power. Humanity is only a means to an end for their endless desires, if they happen to gain their attention. Many lay low, do what they can to appease the gods and try to live their lives out, as best they can, given the circumstances. Wriothesley is one such mortal. Having committed a great crime as a young boy, he’s constantly fleeing from his past. Little did he know; however, his constant misfortunes lead to his destiny, and it is most certainly not what he was expecting.

Recommendations: None, this is a purely AU work, so you’re good to go, reader.

Warnings: 18+ content, ya’ll. We’re going to get a little spicy here. Not my usual sort of Wriolette content. Neuv is going to be a little dark and demanding in this one, so if that sort of content (I’d guess you’d say it’s very close to yandere), then this isn’t for you. Religious hints/themes are also present in this. Consent really doesn’t exist here. I have been thinking of this sort of god x human trope for a while now, and I just needed to get it out of my brain. So, I guess this is a little self-indulgent work that I hope others out there will appreciate as well? Also, it’s putting me in a mental headspace to make a little follow-up chapter to Coming Home, since it’s looking like ya’ll are wanting that, hehe.

Also, one more warning. This is me trying to write a SHORT story and not have this as a full-blown novel. However, if this does receive a lot of love, I will 100% rewrite this to be a multi-chaptered work. This is me practicing self-restraint and tldr make a short story, you freaking gremlin sorta thing. OH, also, this isn’t beta-read, but will 100% be if this makes it to being AO3-post worthy.

AN: I AM TOO LAZY TO UPDATE MY WARNINGS BUT I MESSED UP AND THIS IS SO LONG BUT ENJOY IT AND IF YOU WANT AN EVEN LONGER VERSION WITH MORE LORE AND ACTION LET ME KNOW IN THE COMMENTS PLZ AND I WILL POST ON AO3 I FAILED KEEPING THIS SHORT, I AM SOOOORRRY

Wriothesley grunted as he was pushed forward, his hands bound behind his back by a golden metallic rope that refused to give way, even in the slightest. The guards that stood beside him ensured that he continued walking down the extravagantly decorated hallway, figures lining each side wearing various elegant dresses and suits, some even in intricately designed armor that mortals were rarely blessed to see. They all watched as the bound man was ushered onward to a large set of doors, decorated with a carved design of a long, serpent-like dragon encompassing the entire outer border of both doors, as if it were protecting what was beyond them. Wriothesley tried to slow his pace, flexing his well-defined muscles, doing whatever he could to try to break the bonds that held him in place, but nothing worked. The guards beside him only stared at his pathetic attempts at breaking free, a few patrons from the sidelines murmuring to themselves, commenting on how he should give up and how silly mortals were, thinking that they could defy even the smallest demands of the gods.

He always found himself in the most unfortunate circumstances, but this was the worst fate that could have befallen a human. Most of his kind kept their heads bowed, living silent lives and avoiding the powerful gazes of the deities that ruled their lands. For mere mortals, the prime level of life that they could wish to live was providing high level sacrifices to appease their rulers, hoping that they would be blessed in return or even ignored, in hopes of being allowed to live their lives to the best of their abilities. If they failed to uphold to this standard and a god felt slighted, even in the smallest of ways, then they were bound to become cursed, and experience the worst luck imaginable, having them wishing for a swift death. No, the gods loved toying with their victims, extending their punishment for as long as possible, feeding upon their misfortune, until their victims took their very last breaths. It was a miserable existence, but as long as you dedicated yourself to providing sacrifices that satisfied their desires and obeying whatever they commanded, then you could potentially avoid their gazes and wraths.

However, Wriothesley didn’t feel as though that was an existence worth living. He was a man that was shaped by misfortune, and rarely feared it. Having been orphaned at a young age and shoved from one foster family to another, he knew exactly what misfortune was, without the direct punishment of the gods. Each family he was tossed to was worst than the last. From having one family relying on him to provide them with everything and having worked to the point of exhaustion to keep food on the table, only to endure harsh beatings regardless of the outcome every night, to being sent off to fighting rings to win boxing matches against young men his age and older, he had seen it all. He eventually had enough and turned on his last foster family, killing his adoptive parents in the middle of the night, fleeing the area and taking the other children that happened to have the same misfortune as him to wherever he was going to go. They did find refuge in small, abandoned buildings, and for once his luck did strike true as he was able to find families that would take his adoptive brothers and sisters in, and not expose them to the same fates that they had before. No, these people took true pity on them, bringing them in and giving them a proper home and a good foundation for raising them. The same families always offered Wriothesley the same conditions, but he would always deny them, saying that he was far too damaged and messed up to be worth anything, too far gone for any sort of redemption or happy ending. Before they could even try to convince him otherwise, he had already taken his leave and was moving onto his next venture.

The young boy grew into a young man, roaming from city and city, finding places to work manual labor that would provide him with just enough funds to survive off of. Whenever a place offered him a permanent position or abode, he would thank them, and then immediately leave, onto the next city, town or village. He didn’t know why, but there was a part of his soul that felt like he was always in constant danger, and needed to run from prying eyes, even if he had no enemies. Though he had murdered his foster parents in cold blood as a boy, there were no further investigations into this, almost as if the crime had never happened. He wished so desperately that this was the truth of the matter, but his suspicions never seemed to completely wane. Someone had to have known, whether it be a mortal or a god. He knew that he was going to have to face the consequences of his actions, however justified that they were. So, he vowed that he would continue moving onward, never stopping, always running.

So, that’s exactly what he did. He never stayed long enough for any human or deity to know him well, and he wanted to keep it that way. Discretion was key, and to be honest with himself, this type of living excited him and kept him feeling alive. For once, he thought that he had finally hit it lucky, this was the lifestyle meant for him and he was going to live it to the fullest. Though his suspicions and underlying fear ruled him deep down, there was an odd sense of freedom that he felt being out on his own like this, and he never wanted to lose this. For once in his life, he felt lucky to be in the position that he was in. He was afraid to feel happy, but he couldn’t help himself. His adoptive brothers and sisters were on their way to a better future, and maybe one day, so would he.

Well, as quick as luck had visited him, it was just as fast to leave. The young man was continuing his work assisting a local general store with helping them bring in heavy goods, a horribly weighted sack placed on his shoulder as he was able to transport it inside of the store before multiple guards, lesser deities by the look of them, all approached him at once. Wriothesley immediately dropped the sack and tried to take off, not even taking the time to question their motives, but he was easily detained. One deity grabbed him by the shoulder and twisting it, pushing him against the wall as another guard brought out a metallic, golden rope, that automatically tied his wrists together behind him. Wriothesley growled as he tried to resist, now finding the time to begin spouting questions as he realized the situation that he was currently in.

“The hell did I even do?! I just got here and haven’t broken any laws, let me go!”

“That’s not up for discussion. You’re to come with us, no questions asked. Any hesitation, and we’ll hunt down your adoptive family and have them suffer for the rest of their days.” one of the growls out, tightening the rope around his wrists ever so slightly, for emphasis. Immediately, Wriothesley shut his mouth and said no word and offered no resistance. So, his suspicions were correct, someone had been keeping tabs on his whereabouts and knew about his past, but what god or mortal alike would hold any sort of interest in him? Sure, he was handsome and had both women and men swooning for him, but that never held any sort of value to him. He also didn’t have any sort of money in savings to his name, using whatever little he earned from odd jobs to be able to afford housing and small, pitiful meals and other necessities.

His heart felt like it skipped a beat, as he immediately reminded himself about his biggest fear. Was this finally the retribution that he would be facing for his previous sins? Did the families of his abusive foster parents that he murdered finally send out their agents to find him, and a god had felt it was their time to shine to torture a mortal? There was no escaping it, even if it was the case. Wriothesley then opted to keep his mouth shut, hoping he was overthinking the situation. But, what else could this possibly be over, then? He needed answers, but he wasn’t about to try to fight against them for it.

Reluctantly, Wriothesley complied with their demands, and was ushered into a rather delicately designed carriage, one that clearly belonged to a higher-powered god, but which, he had no idea. The guards also remained silent on the manner, merely ushering him in and taking an odd interest in keeping him safe and comfortable, but still under their ever-watchful gazes. They continued onward with their journey, and eventually reached to where they were now, standing in front of those formidable doors, gods of various levels of power and renown surrounding them all, but their focus all centered on him and him alone. Wriothesley’s heart was racing in anticipation, knowing that he had no choice but to face whatever was beyond those doors, even if it ended up killing him, or worse.

A low, guttural growl was heard, seemingly originating from past the closed entryway in front of them, which had Wriothesley’s eyes widening in shock. Never in his life had he heard such a noise, no other god he had known or met personally held the sort of power that was radiating from such a sound. The others that were previously surrounding him were now shuffling away in fear, some were even shaking, staring straight ahead. A thought suddenly ran through Wriothesley’s head, he noticed that all of the deities were distracted, and he could easily flee from the scene. He tried to will his body to run, but instead it only stayed firmly planted in place, his body no longer under his control. His heart began to race in a sudden panic, and it wasn’t eased as the closed doors in front of him began to part, opening up to reveal a continuation of the current hallway that he was in, but a darkness was at the very end, hiding whatever it was that was awaiting him.

What happened next horrified the young man beyond measure, and by then he knew that he was doomed.

“Wriothesley, step forward, come to me, come to your destiny.” a regal voice called out, though the growl from before was also heard in the same voice, as if they were perfectly mixed together. Whoever was calling to him, this had to be one of the ancient gods of lore, mighty beasts that garnered so much power from its followers and victories of war, that it gained godhood. But, what would such a highly positioned god want with someone low and poor, as himself? Wriothesley wasn’t about to argue, however. Wriothesley tested his muscles, now being able to freely move them. He had regained control of his body, and along with that realization, the golden metallic rope that was previously wrapped around his wrists shattered, releasing their hold on him. Whoever this was wanted him to come willingly and freely, but also prevented him from having any other option. After taking a moment to mentally accept the situation for what it was and what it could possibly be, the man slowly but surely took step after step, inching his way forward, obeying the command that had been called out to him.

Once he was past the dual doors, they both slammed shut behind him, as if signaling there was no way to truly turn back now, the only way was forward. The young man jumped in response to the loud noise behind him, but didn’t bother looking back. Instead, the man glared as he looked forward, a figure now clearly standing where darkness once was, the hallway now oddly illuminated, as if showcasing the person directly in his path.

The god before him stood mighty and tall, long white hair with just as long blue streaks, decorated with golden ornaments, robes that matched the varying colors of the ocean’s brightest waters, swirling around his slim body in an ancient style of robes. His eyes were a sharp lilac color, and gave an odd feeling of being so similar to the eyes of a feline, slit pupils that were slightly dilated as his gaze was transfixed to Wriothesley.

“I see that time has done you well, Wriothesley. You certainly grew into a rather handsome man. I will forever consider myself fortunate to lay claim on you so many years ago, before the others could.” At this, Wriothesley gasped, anxiety beginning to rise within his chest. A god laying claim on him? Ages ago? He would have remembered such a thing, seeing as though the deities usually made a huge spectacle when they took a human as theirs. It wasn’t an uncommon act, but according to what Wriothesley remembered hearing, a god had to be completely enamored with a mortal to do such an act. A claim meant ownership of the mortal by the god, sure, but it also bound them together in a deep, intimate way. The god would always know the whereabouts of the mortal, their control over them being absolute. For the mortal, it meant having a power being provide and protect them, but gods tended to be jealous beings, and this often resulted in a rather lonely existence for the mortal. There were humans that found this to be an absolute obsession for themselves, dolling up their looks and doing what they believed would get the attention of some sort of god that would claim them, but many found that staying away from this sort of deep-rooted obsession was better for them.

“I’m sorry, but I think you’ve got the wrong guy. No one’s laid claim on me and- “

“Then how would you explain your horrible luck then, Wriothesley?”

The young man shuddered, every time the god in front of him said his name, an odd wave of feelings started to phase through him that he couldn’t quite explain. It was like it felt right, and a small part of him wanted to hear the figure continue to say his name, until he couldn’t handle it anymore. The hell was wrong with him? He has never had such thoughts about others like this, why now?

“I-I’m not following…”

“I saw you kill your foster parents. I knew what you did was justified, my dear. They were horrible and their sins innumerable. You did what you needed to do to protect yourself and the little ones. It’s not often that I find myself observing humans as closely as you, and I knew from that moment forward, you were someone I wanted. Someone with such a profound sense of justice, and the spirit to carry out punishment. So, I cursed you.” The man continued to explain, as if it were common knowledge.

“Why the fuck would you curse someone that you’re interested in? Are you fucking insane?!” Wriothesley shouted out, stomping forward to stand right in front of the mighty being. The ancient one’s brows furrowed, glaring at the young man in front of him.

“Wriothesley…” the god said, his tone demanding respect and issuing a single and final warning.

Wriothesley bared his teeth at the ancient one, issuing his own, small, pathetic growl, in comparison. However, he understood and heeded the silent warning, not taking any further action, allowing the omnipotent being before him to continue on with his explanation.

“Of course. I didn’t want to take you away, especially with you being so young. However, I wanted no other god to look upon you in favor and want you for themselves. So, I placed a curse on you, and took care of anyone being aware of you committing murder. You would always feel as though someone or something was chasing you. A home would never be one for long, your soul aching to keep searching for something. If a suitor tried to approach you, you would take no notice or interest. They, also, would disappear from your life. Luck would abandon you, forcing you to follow your true destiny with hardships that would test you, mold you for your potential to come alive. You were to keep living your life, until I was prepared to receive you, and you were of a proper age. Now, is the time, Wriothesley…”

The powerful being before him then snapped his fingers, the area around them turning pitch black for just a moment, before the it was illuminated once more, showing a marble decorated room with various different nautical decorations adorning every aspect of it. Blues, golds and silvers lined and adorned every aspect of it, treasures beyond measure lay everywhere, as if the room itself were a museum of the heavenly bodies. In the middle of the room, and directly behind the god, was a giant, circular bed with blankets of the finest silk with the same level of intricate designs on them as well. Wriothesley’s breath stuttered, as he took a small step back, his head tilting to the side in confusion.

“Now is the time to consummate our binding, wouldn’t you agree? It’s been many years, and my hunger for you is insufferable…” the being in front of him stared intensely into his own eyes, unable to avoid him. A million thoughts were running through Wriothesley’s mind, but only one question was able to come out.

“W-w-who are you…?”

“Ah, yes. Sincerest apologies, my love. You may know me by many names, and by many forms, though this is my true self, that I will never hesitate to show and share with you. The title you humans appear to have given me in my temples is Neuvillette, god of all that is hydro, the waters of all are mine, of the lakes, the sea…” Neuvillette purred as he began to approach Wriothesley.

“Of every human body, but especially yours…”

The young man hastily started taking steps backwards, never keeping his eyes off of the powerful being before him, but it was to no avail for his situation. Suddenly, behind him, he felt a sort of cushion that he was then pushed down onto, sheets wrapping up around him as he became entangled in them. It took a moment for him to realize that the god before him must have teleported the both of them straight to the circular bed he had observed before, and now both of them completely nude and exposed to each other. Wriothesley shrieked as realized the position that the two were in now, him being laid out on the bed like a meal on a decorated platter, while the god above was draped over him in pure possession and domination, but that wasn’t the only reason why he screamed out. The young man also observed the full body of the god in front of him, perfectly chiseled muscles but with a slim, elegant figure. White, creamy skin that was free from any blemish or imperfection, and perfectly smooth with little to no body hair, except for his lower body, where white pubic hair trailed from below his navel down towards his lower pelvic region, where instead of one perfectly thick and long member, he seemed to have…two…

Oh, fuck, he was truly not going to make it out of this alive, whether Neuvillette realized it or not.

“G-Get the fuck off of me, just kill me!” Wriothesley screamed out, trying his best to push the god off of him, but once more, to no avail. Though his muscles were much larger than the deity that was draped above him, it mattered little. Whatever claim the god had on him seemed to hold true, he could never overpower him.

“Never, Wriothesley, never, you’re staying with me for the rest of eternity. I will show you how a god truly appreciates his claimed…” Neuvillette growled out, as he lowered his head and nuzzled Wriothesley’s neck, licking it repeatedly in a sensual manner, as if he were handling an absolute treasure. Wriothesley shut his eyes as he moaned in pleasure, not able to prevent himself from doing so, as his hips started rutting upwards, his member starting to harden from just the simplest of touches from this being. He blushed in embarrassment, but no one had ever touched him in this way before, no one had ever said such words to him. Everything he ever wanted to hear and feel from someone, Neuvillette was serving it on a silver platter for him, and he was a starved mortal, ready to accept it all.

“Ah, ah, what are you doing to me, Neuvillette…” Wriothesley breathed out, in a husky voice, fully immersed in all of the emotions and sensations he was feeling. Neuvillette only smiled against the skin of his neck, as his hands began to roam the young man’s body. Soft, but powerful hands continued to caress him, touching Wriothesley in places he never dared imagine anyone else doing so. From his muscled pectorals, down the sides of his stone hard abdomen, and then finally down to his rear as Neuvillette grabbed his cheeks, giving them a nice, firm squeeze, sharp nails digging into the meat of them, but never breaking the skin.

“I’m showing you how much you mean to me, you’re my desire, my passion, my reason to hold firm to my rule, so that no other may touch you like this. Only me, only ever me…” Neuvillette mumbled, burying his head back into the crook of Wriothesley’s neck as he continued.

Wriothesley let out a dirty moan as Neuvillette’s fangs elongated, rooting themselves deep into his neck, and tasting of his blood. The god made sure that when he released and his fangs retracted, that the wound would heal, but leave behind a deep scar that none other would question. He made sure in the back of his mind, to order one of his underlings to immediately begin commissioning a necklace for Wriothesley, that would accentuate his looks but also have the marks forever on full display for the world to see.

At this point, Wriothesley was hard as a rock, his member leaking precum as it begged for attention, for a release, for pleasure, and Neuvillette was more than happy to oblige. Removing himself from the young man’s neck, Neuvillette moved over to Wriothesley’s lips, licking them lightly, biting at him just a smidge, before he invaded them completely, inserting his long tongue and exploring the depths within. Wriothesley greedily allowed him to do so, wrapping his arms around the neck of the god, pressing him further down so that the kiss could be deepened even further, if that was possible. Neuvillette could only smile as he continued his assault, a hand now trailing down Wriothesley’s body, feeling the differences between the two. Where Neuvillette’s body was smooth and perfect, Wriothesley’s had dark hair that covered his arms, some of his chest, and definitely trailed down to his lower regions, oozing manly features. His body, though littered with scars from the trials and tribulations of his life, only seemed to further decorate how in his own way, he was powerful and worthy to be the claimed of Neuvillette.

As the hand of the god reached Wriothesley’s member, the man groaned, still stuck in the deep and passionate kiss, continued to raise his hips up, a while leaving his lips as his member demanded any sort of friction against it. Neuvillette grabbed him, stroking up and down, thumb teasing the leaking head. The kiss finally broke as Neuvillette desired to see Wriothesley’s pleasure, as he continued to pump the member of his claimed, doing every action so perfectly and true to the wants and needs of the young man. It wasn’t long before Wriothesley was breathing hard, his body shaking as he released all over the god, thick ropes of cum shooting out and even coating Neuvillette’s chest, as if adding to the creamy skin of his claimer.

Neuvillette could only continue to smile as Wriothesley repeatedly began to apologize, ashamed of what he had done but enjoying feeling every effect his god was bestowing upon him.

“Shhh, my soul, hush now with that. I do not want your apologies for indulging in what I give freely to you. Now, roll over…” Neuvillette growled out, the animalistic side of him starting to show. Wriothesley trembled beneath Neuvillette for a moment, but the god only offered him an odd sense of assurance as he gently led Wriothesley to roll over onto his stomach, directing him to keep his chest lowered onto the bedsheets but his rear raised high, on full display to his god. The young man, still embarrassed, tried his best to hide his face within the lavish sheets of the bed, but didn’t fight back. A part of him wanted this, needed this, wanting this session they were sharing to never end.

Wriothesley felt a warmness spread throughout his core, as he assumed Neuvillette had summoned some sort of water to assist with what was about to happen. The liquid was spread along the crease of his bottom and hole, delicate and soft fingers of the god above him caressing him, touching every inch of him, as if he were savoring his very existence. It wasn’t much longer after this that he could feel an odd flesh shape being pressed against his hole, one of his dicks, Wriothesley surmised. His heart started to pick up it’s pace once more, worried that such a formidable size wouldn’t be able to fit and he would feel nothing but pain as he was tortured into the act. However, that was far from the truth.

The water continued to warm and relax the skin that it touched, his muscles feeling lose and somewhat stretched even before he knew he was being entered. Neuvillette lowered himself once more, kissing Wriothesley’s back and nibbling here and there with his fangs, building up Wriothesley’s desire for him, which he did. Once he heard the young boy beginning to pant, spreading his legs even further and raising his rear even higher, he knew he was ready. Slowly, the god started pressing the head of one of his cocks into the greedy hole of his claimed, and it accepted him with ease. Wriothesley continued to plant his head directly into the sheets of the bed, moaning so loudly and continued to pant like a dog, but he desperately wanted this, needed this. It was only a matter of time before the god was deeply planted inside of him, taking a moment to relish the feel of the warmth that his length was now experiencing. The god then started to pump into his claimed, clawed hands holding onto his waist for support.

The thrusts started out small, and careful, but the pace was quick to change. The more that Neuvillette was planted in Wriothesley, the more that he desired, so his thrusts began to continue with their assault, becoming deeper and rougher.

“Yes, yes! More, more-gah, FUCK!” Wriothesley yelled out as his thoughts started to lose all sense but being completely consumed by pleasure. Within seconds he lost the ability to form any coherent words, only feeling and appreciating the ecstasy that his god was providing for him. Time seemed to go on forever as the thrusts continued, and Wriothesley had begun grabbing onto the nearby sheets, twisting them until they were a complete mess from the perfect state that they were in before.

Another deep, animalistic growl was heard above him, which made him moan even harder, as he felt Neuvillette’s balls slap against his ass from how deep he was thrusting in, the second cock now also fully erect was also slapping against his ass, warm and thick. It seemed that the god did have some form of pity for him, as he had only inserted one of his members this time. But that didn’t stop the conquering of his mortal body. A few more grunts were heard as Wriothesley felt something spill inside of him, so very warm and copious amounts kept flooding in. The young man sighed in absolute bliss, eyes fluttering shut as his body fell down back to the bed, Neuvillette easing him back down, but keeping his member deeply planted as more cum continued to be released inside of his claimed one.

Little did Wriothesley know this was the final act to solidify their bond. The god of hydro had marked him with his essence, and it will never fade. Every god and mortal will instantly know who he belonged to, and Neuvillette will always know what he was feeling, where he was, his thoughts and feelings now completely forfeit to him.

Oh, how lucky this god truly was.

#wriothesley #neuvillette #wriolette #genshin impact #neuvillette x wriothesley #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #genshin smut #wriothesley x neuvillette

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nobibiname · 8 months ago

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Ever wondered why the Elucien arguments pulling out Sarah’s 2016 interview and Facebook comment (yeah that one after ACOMAF came out) are SO annoying? 🙄

Ok so I ended up in a TikTok comment section today (yes I know that was my first mistake) and it occurred to me, we are once again not on the same page about some fundamental ideas on writing. The OP argued Sarah hasn’t changed her mind on the next books &elucien and that she said so in an interview after ACOSF.

Ok, but there’s a huge GLARING problem with that.

Basically, a writer makes promises in the text. I’m paraphrasing Sanderson here (I watch his lectures for fun, even tho I don’t write cuz I’m a dork) so he was talking about the first chapter and prologue of a book, or movie… but if you’re writing a multi-book epic, then you’re probably going to make promises about plots and characters of your future books, right?

So what are these promises? Basically what kind of book it is, plot&trope hints, the tone, goals, journeys and obstacles.

Ok back to SJM: why is the argument that “she said Elucien and hasn’t changed her mind infuriating? Because she made different promises in the books. And that is what Elriels mean when we say “set up”.

I mean just from the amount of interactions, Elriel have more than Elucien.. not to mention the warmth, positivity and thoughtfulness she put into their interactions over seriously 4 books. The promises are crystal clear: there is a romance that started as friendship==plot, but she has a bond w/someone else==obstacle, and Rhys forbade it in a moment resulting in her thinking he rejected her, but he didn’t == twist.

These promises need to be addressed, resolved, fulfilled. Is there something even CLOSE to this kind of story promise existing for Elucien?

I have seriously seen people claim that Elucien are both “friends to lovers” AND “enemies to lovers”…. These cannot both be true, like come on… you’re not even sure what kind of story they promise to be? You’re not sure what kinds of promises Sarah made about Elucien?

Why are you not sure? Because it’s not in the text. My personal view is that Elucien is neither… if they happen it’s kind of worse than either trope, they’re certainly not friends, they are at best indifferent to each other and at worst resentful. Mmmm … delicious “indifferent to lovers” 🫠

On a serious note, I don’t “hate” Elucien, but SJM hasn’t made a single promise in the text that I can quote in here that would make me excited about them. He gave her gifts that she didn’t throw away…. ?? Really?… she made a half step toward him… once… no, just no! And that’s how I feel, regardless if “Lulu deserves love”… sure he does, then write a love interest that brings out flirty firey fox boy from book1 and I’m on board 🫡 ….and don’t try to convince me after 4 books of a tepid nothing that all along it was Elain. Because. I. Don’t. Buy. It.

And my last point (I swear!) why did I get my panties all up in a twist… basically this: a writer makes promises IN THE TEXT, and if what you are saying in interviews directly CONTRADICTS your actual text, then you kinda have a problem. … at that point either you’re a bad writer, or you can’t blindly trust an interview from 7 years ago, it’s outdated!

The great GRRM himself said how often his “gardening style” of writing led to character arcs and romantic pairings changing… so why don’t we start treating Sarah as an adult author, and trust the text, and not an old interview?

It also comes down to trust. You don’t wanna be left feeling like “hmmm this doesn’t feel real, I don’t buy it” it takes you out of the text, and it happens when an author messes up promise-delivery . When an author foreshadows well, and sets up the story with their promises, still manages to surprise us while keeping the promises… well I trust THAT PERSON to tell me the most satisfying story.

#rant post #elriel #bad arguments that make me mad #why I can’t love Elucien even if it isn’t horrible

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amidnight--dreary · 7 months ago

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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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skynapple · 8 months ago

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Budding Romance | Ch. 22

Love and Deepspace | Jeremiah x MC / slow-burn / friends-to-lovers | Themes: angst, guilt, fluff

warnings: none

Multi-chapter | A03 link

Beginning | <- Prev | Next ->

"Tulips." Jeremiah is a mess, but shares the meaning of tulips.

She ended up staying most of the day, sleeping a little longer and then leaving to change and eat at her own home, returning later with the key he’d given her to work in the back. It was almost that she fit naturally there, amongst the florals in the back, seated at his desk, working on her own things, or at least that’s what he thought. A few times he glanced over at her screen, smirking a little that it very much appeared that she was online shopping.

When he wasn’t busy, she perused the shop, making small conversation with him. She was as talkative as ever, about her work, about things she was into, asking questions on what he was working on.

“I’m not distracting you, am I?” She asked at some point.

“No,” he said softly, smiling as he pruned some leaves on a large bouquet.

I want to know everything about who you are. I want to know everything.

As she continued, he couldn’t help but wonder what her and Xavier ever talked about. If he knew all these things about her already, if she hung around him so often, if she ever whined at him when she wanted something or if he was used to her dramatics. It almost felt like he was seeing things that he wasn’t supposed to. At the same time, he greedily was grateful for it, knowing it couldn’t possibly last.

When he realized she intended to stay all day, he managed to convince her to go make a reservation for them in the afternoon instead of waiting around for him to finish closing and cleaning up. She agreed and left, giving him time to hurry through the tasks and head to one of the rooms in the back that he kept a spare change of clothes. Taking note that he looked like he worked all day, suddenly upset that his hair didn’t look right, and that he didn’t have time to do anything about it.

Nevertheless, he met her at the restaurant, sliding into the booth across her, on time. She was smiling in a way that he’d gotten used –addicted even– to seeing. They talked more, laughing and eating together. It felt like fresh air. It felt like stepping barefoot into the ocean for the first time on a hot day, a starkly crisp but wonderful feeling.

“I’ve never asked you,” she said shyly, poking at the food on her plate while all he could do was stare. “What’s your favorite flower?” Although his favorite flowers did not exist on earth, he knew what he usually answered when asked the question, and it was often given his occupation.

“Tulips.” He shrugged. When she questioned it he smiled. “Oh you know. Love, happiness, springtime, that kind of thing. After growing them for a while, I think it’s a cute shape. But you know what? A lot of people like seeing them closed but my favorite thing is - if you give them enough care, they open up so beautifully.”

By the end of the night, he felt bubbly. It was the most time he’d spent with her, he thought, in all of his life. She was swinging his hand, he couldn’t remember when she’d grabbed it, and singing one of the restaurant songs, a little off key. It was a better bliss than anything he’d ever felt in his life.

She nearly tripped in her heels on the sidewalk and he caught her, laughing. There was a whine in her voice as she chided him for doing so, but he didn’t let go, didn’t want to. The streetlights cast a warm glow on her features, creating dancing shadows from her eyelashes, and he could feel her sliding her hand against his chest. He wasn’t sure what possessed him in that moment, a singular thought as she had her arm around his waist now.

If only.

Her hand slid up around his neck.

If only…

He lowered his head and she rose a little higher.

If only you loved me instead. I wish you loved me the way you loved him.

Warmth reached his lips and he felt his whole being melt into her, moving slowly against her, feeling the way she pressed into him. It wasn’t enough. He slid both hands against her waist, chest burning at the sensation of the kiss, deepening it as he turned his head. Hearing her soft moan as he did, making the ache in his center worse. Her fingers wrangled through the hair on the back of his head, giving him chills. It became a dizzying blur, heart pounding into his head, drowning out any reason, all he could feel was her, all he could think was her, all he wanted was her, all that mattered was her in his hands.

When they broke, breathless, he could see her smiling against him, only observing him for a second before leaning forward again to kiss the corner of his mouth, making him move to complete it, wondering if it wasn’t enough for her either. Suddenly he understood, feeling how much she wanted this, wanted him. How long? Since when?

"'Miah." She breathed against his lips.

No, please don't do this to me. Please not like that.

He pulled away from their blissful passion, taking her in. It would only last a moment before felt cold dread set it, along with shame, knowing the this time, he went too far.

How did this happen?

For the first time in a long time, maybe ever, Jeremiah wanted to be selfish. Guilt wrestling with desire. He pressed his cheek against hers, holding tightly to her, vaguely keeping an eye on the quiet nighttime surroundings. He wondered if she could feel the incessant beating of his heart, she wondered if it was loud enough for her to hear.

“I had a great night, ‘Miah.” She said softly against him.

No, no, no, no. What have I done?

To avoid startling her, he pressed his forehead to hers, begging all the gods he believed in to let him have her for just one more moment. Seeming to pick up on something wrong, she pulled away, ducking her head to see his expression.

“Everything ok?” She asked, concern ridden in her eyes.

Jeremiah felt his stomach turn at the reality of it all setting in. “I can’t… we can’t do this.”

Her eyebrows furrowed but she did not release him from her grasp. “What are you talking about?”

Swallowing hard, he averted his gaze from hers. “…Xavier.”

“What?”

“I’m so… I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to get in the way. I’m so…”

Attempting to soothe him, she ran a hand through his hair again and shushed him. “Wait. Wait, Jer… Shh, look at me. Jer?” Her finger drew up to his chin, guiding him toward her, the gentle action being the only reason he was able to face her again.

“Jer, wait, there wasn’t ever anything going on between me and Xavier. How could you think that?”

Jeremiah played her words on repeat over and over.

She did not hold affection for Xavier in that way, at least not in this world. That much, now, was clear. At first he questioned if she had back then too, but quickly disregarded. Back then, he was sure they lived and breathed for each other.

So what had changed?

Guilt swirled in his mind. Was this somehow his fault? Was it Xavier's for not encouraging it more? Was he too distant with her?

To him, Xavier had always been too distant both physically and emotionally with her. In the past, it was one of the reasons he had somehow become the middle person. He wondered for a moment if he didn't encourage her in Xavier's direction enough. Then again, in the past she never needed his help too much, and in the past if she did ask for help, any of his surefire ways to spur Xavier into action had always worked. Why were things backfiring?

It occurred to him that the woman he'd known had an entirely different upbringing. She was born with a purpose, quite literally to always be at Xavier's side. This version of her... hadn't.

She had close family members that she'd grown up with, in stark contrast to her alternate self. This version of her had her own self accomplished hopes, dreams, goals, hobbies, habits, and was brilliantly independent. Could he have seen the woman he knew back then devising a plan to beat a video game that served absolutely no purpose to her real life? No, probably not, not when it either didn't have to do with the man she adored or didn't serve purpose to being a Grandis Knight. And yet... it was still the same determination and grit she always had, just applied differently. He had always loved seeing it.

He had never, ever considered the possibility that a world could exist where she loved anyone else, where her gaze wasn't looking outward towards the stars, waiting for someone else. Here, this brand new individual, with brand new thoughts, and brand new devotion, brand new livelihood... was a version that did not love Xavier with every fiber of her being.

And he had no idea what do with that.

She spoke, interrupting his raging thoughts. “Why did you think there was something going on?” When he didn’t respond, she shifted even closer against him, as if she even could. “Jeremiah…does he…?”

He took a breath. "You... don't like him? At all?”

“No! I never did. I'm so sorry you thought so.” At that, she huffed a sigh and flicked his cheek lightly, the sensation making him snap out of the glazed look that had befallen him. “Dummy.” She said.

At that he looked up at her, looking stunned, but taking in the way she was looking at him. It was the way she always looked at him before.

He couldn’t say what he really wanted to. Silently he gave a slow nod, not able to verbalize anything coherent in that moment.

I can’t take you away from him. He needs you.

“Jer, look at me.” At that she broke away from him, letting a hand linger on her upper arm. Now, he observed, she looked a little upset. Rightly so.

“Were you just…were you just trying to get me and him together? Did you even care?”

“No! God, no.” He said quickly, not liking the weakness in his voice. It was half true, at first, but he needed her to know that that’s not what this was. “Of course I care.”

“Then!” It was almost like she pouted, but she still looked compassionate. “You can’t make people feel what they don’t feel. He has to know that. Besides, he’s never given me a proper confession. What matters is what you feel.” Now she seemed nervous, but in her tone was the same guiding strength that made her such a great leader in the first place. “What do you want?”

"You don't... you don't understand." He set his hands on her arms, trembling, emotions threatening to spill.

“Fine.” She frowned, the hurt in her voice spilling through. “Don’t tell me.” She started to walk away from him, tearing him apart inside.

I shouldn't. I shouldn't. I shouldn't.

"You don't know what you do to me.” He said after her, attempting to catch up. When she didn’t look his direction, he felt the sting of tears in his eyes, but he would not let them fall. He took a few broad steps and caught hold of her arm, calling her name as he did.

This is wrong.

“I am so... I'm so in love with you."

That answer was enough for her. "I am too."

The answer created knots in his stomach as she embraced him again. It rang in his mind though, and he couldn't help but start to smile, against his will, against all his better judgement. For now, he reasoned not to make her sad, wanting to enjoy her a little longer, wanting her to be his a little longer.

Gingerly, he stepped away, taking her hand in up to his mouth, kissing her knuckles. They were a little dry in texture from all the work in her profession. “I’m sorry I just. I thought you…”

She shook her head. “No, Jer. No. It’ll be ok. I’ll talk to him-"

Now he shook his head, the dread setting in again and he patted her hand. “I’ll worry about that. Let’s get you home.”

—

This time he walked her inside. He didn’t mean to stay, knew that he couldn’t. But she pulled him in, tugging at his jacket to pull him into her as the door closed behind them. It felt magnetizing.

He could just as well sense her desire as she looked at him, drawing closer. He had never felt so weak against her whiles before. In the stillness and darkness of her living room, he kissed her again, telling her goodnight as he did. It felt like a mistake. For all of her long-held desire, she wouldn't let him go.

Vaguely he could feel her hands on his chest, then where they moved to hold him tighter, then it was a sensation of her hands in his hair again, almost tugging at him, whispering his name in bated breaths between her kisses. He repeated her name back to her in reverence. The jacket he wore became like a prison and he ripped it off, giving him more ability to hold her. She mischievously used the opportunity to accidentally brush her fingers against his skin from where his shirt lifted up. The candle inside him that had threatened to blow out was set ablaze.

When neither could breathe again, they broke, and he rested against her, not able to remember how they'd made their way to the couch. Not wanting to move, he had stayed put, and found himself tangled in her, her hands everywhere on him with strength and passion. It was mesmerizing, mind numbing passion. She felt so good. Indulging himself in her touch felt like scratching an itch, a deep itch on something he definitely was forbidden to scratch. Still, he managed to hold himself back, fearing they were teetering on the edge of crossing another line.

Long past midnight, he awoke, still on her couch, feeling the weight and warmth of her head against his chest. She had rolled over and wrapped herself around him in her sleep.

As he was contemplating how to maneuver himself out of her grasp, he felt the hum of her voice against his chest and though nothing much was comprehensible, he did hear one thing:

‘Miah.

The sensation of warmth and familiarity coursed through him. When he'd known her before, they never used nicknames. It was somewhat a respect thing, somewhat a culture thing. He realized he had never had a personal nickname for or from her before. He wondered if now, he could.

It was undeniable. As she murmured his name in her sleep again, arms wrapped around his waist, all the rushing thoughts from earlier settled into place.

He knew a few things now.

One, that whatever world they were in, or whatever version of her this was, somehow she ended up not being romantically interested in Xavier. At least, not yet. Not now.

Two, he knew what this was between them.

He felt his arms lift up around her, holding her, pressing his lips to the top of her head, taking in the scent of her.

He just didn't know when it started, or for how long he'd felt this way about her. He wondered if it started centuries ago. Maybe it had, but so deeply buried that it just was never a consideration in his mind. Out of respect, he'd kept a safe distance.

I love her.

As it stood, he had two options. He could be the honorable man and leave, and maybe give her the room to fall for Xavier because he considered that maybe they just hadn't had enough time. Or...

He felt his fingers dance through the stray strands of her hair.

I love her so much.

Swallowing hard, he began to move her off him delicately, trying to think of how best to quietly leave. Then he felt her strong arms clamp back down around him.

"No..." She moaned, much like a little kid.

"Sorry. I didn't want to wake you up,” He whispered.

"Don't leave."

He felt a lump gather in his throat. The ache in his chest was growing and growing.

He drew in a shaky breath. "I can't stay."

She nuzzled her head into his shoulder. “Mmph…’Miah…Please.”

He felt his whole being melt, caressing her close to him now, giving in and burrowing his head against hers. "Why do you do this to me?"

"Because." She responded, although barely awake.

He hummed in response against her. He had never once considered himself a weak man. But tonight, the entirety of the evening up to then, he had never felt so weak to her desires.

After a moment more of breathing her in, he attempted to get up again.

"Nooo." She whined as he tore himself from her, and he felt his insides knit together. He wanted to crash back into her.

"I have to go..."

She didn't look all that more awake, but he could feel her gaze on him in the dark.

“Please.” It sounded curt. It killed him inside.

He hesitated, not wanting to pull away from her. “I have to go.”

Grumbling, she moved enough for him to get off the couch, but shifted to face away from him after. The action told him she was upset about it, and it made him adore her even more.

He leaned over, kissing her temple gently. “Goodnight, tulip.”

“Mmmph…” She moaned with an upset tone, but when she turned to face him, in the dark he could see the flash of a smile as she muttered against the couch. “Night.”

#I was so nervous posting this I have rewritten this like 6 times #jeremiah x mc #lnds jeremiah #love and deepspace jeremiah #jeremiah love and deepspace #love and deepspace xavier #lnds fic #l&ds #l&ds jeremiah #l&ds mc #love and deepspace #lnds mc #love and deepspace mc #budding romance #madi writes

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