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chickenparm · 11 months ago

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Helping Out (Nanami/Reader)

just a lil quickie cause @drawlypsy inspired me with her absolutely insane nanami art that you can see here! please go look at it, i promise it won't disappoint. (it's also nsfw albeit censored)

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AO3 LINK

Nanami/Reader (no pronouns, no descriptions) 1,478 Words - NSFW (handjobs, blowjobs, fluff, minor praise/service)

Nanami isn’t particularly shy about his work exhausting him.

You’re not a part of that life, but you know well enough that sometimes he comes home to you and all he can manage is a chaste kiss on your cheek before slumping into a seat. You’ll slide up behind him, pressing your thumbs into the tense muscles of his neck and shoulders, murmuring little words of encouragement about how proud you are, how good of a job he does.

And maybe you’ll sneak in a few kisses behind his ear where you know he’s sensitive, watching goosebumps prickle across his cheek. Sometimes you say nothing at all, fully aware of his life being a little too full of sound and fury. Nanami melts under your hands and sweet words, but he also relishes the silence just as much.

This evening, you aren’t home when he arrives. Groceries needed to be bought, and the commute was slower than usual, so dinner hadn’t even been started. Nanami wouldn’t complain, of course - he’d been a victim of rush hour more times than you could count. You’re certain he’d be sitting in his chair, enjoying the silence as he tried to relax from the day’s events.

Careful not to jostle your bags too much, you slip into your home and deposit your items in the kitchen, then tip-toe along to find where he’s posted up for now. The living room is empty, so is the bedroom, so you slip into the study and find him slumped at the window. Nanami has always looked good in warm tones, and this moment is no exception as the light filters through and makes him glow.

Your lips quirk, however, when you see the state he’s in. A little rumpled, head lolled back as he takes steady breaths. Neither of his hands are in his lap, nor on his bared cock that’s freed from his pants. It glistens a little, a testament to how he’d been touching himself not so long ago during a private moment.

For a moment, you debate leaving him, but he looks a little too tired. You severely doubt he’d even bother to finish himself off. For the greater good, you titter to yourself as you enter the room and pad over to him. Nanami already knows you’re there, his eyes cracking open to watch as you approach. There’s a rumble in his voice that speaks of just how tired he is when he says, “I thought I’d be done by the time you got back.”

“Don’t seem like you’re in much of a rush,” you tease quietly, pressing your hand to his knee and squeezing. Visibly, his cock jumps, but he doesn’t otherwise move. Poor thing.

Nanami blows air through his nose in a long sigh, letting his head fall back again. “I wasn’t sure it was worth finishing. Too much effort.”

Oh, that’s a simple fix. You’ve done plenty of things that Nanami didn’t consider worth the effort, and he appreciated them once finished. This would be no exception, and you slip to your knees as your hands move up his thighs. “Let me help. Just relax, don’t lift a finger.”

And how is he going to argue with that? Nanami sinks further into his chair, and you lean in to press a chaste kiss to the tip of his cock as you take him in hand. “There we go. Just do your breathing exercises and I’ll handle this for you.”

You’ll handle it with both hands, you muse to yourself as you use one to hold the base of his cock while the other pulls back slowly on his foreskin, then strokes upward to coax a bead of pre from the tip. With a swipe of your thumb, you wick it away and smear it along his head to ease your movements. In response, a low, steady breath leaves his chest nearly concave, one of his hands squeezing into a fist before falling limp on the arm of the chair once more.

When he’s back to full hardness once more, only needing a few cursory movements of your hand, you lean in and take the tip into your mouth to roll over it with your tongue. A stilted groan is your treat for something so sudden, and you smile around the heavy weight on your tongue as you take a little more, savoring the taste of him.

Normally, you’d close your eyes to focus on only pleasuring him, but you take a second to watch the line of his throat bob as he swallows hard. And so do you, your mouth opening wider to accommodate him to the back and swallow around his length at the back of your throat. Despite your practice with him like this, you really can only manage his size there for a few beats before you have to pull back to avoid gagging.

Nanami likes that, sometimes. That you struggle to handle him, and your throat closes around his cock as if to push him out. But there’s a time and a place, and this is too languid for something so heated and desperate. Next time, you’ll treat him in a different way.

The veins on his length are mapped by your tongue, and you trace them instinctively with each bob of your head. If necessary, you could draw them with perfect recollection, having nearly branded them into your tongue from him filling your mouth like this. Your other hand works over what you can’t fit, working in tandem with your lips and tongue as you go a little faster, a little deeper.

One of his hands slides along your face to cup your cheek, thumb stroking at the apex of your cheekbone with undeniable affection. Nanami is certainly watching you now, but you’re far more focused on making sure this is good for him. That there are no wasted movements, that you’re not moving too quickly or too slowly. Just a steady build-up to avoid working him up unnecessarily.

This is about as cathartic for you as it is for him, you think.

Nanami doesn’t need to be taken care of, he can function more than fine on his own. But you find a sense of self-satisfaction in finding ways to dote on him and reduce his stress. Using your mouth on his cock is one of your favorites; you like being hands-on with him - and mouth-on.

With the way you can feel his pulse throbbing in your mouth, you think perhaps he likes it, too.

Using your free hand, you cup his balls and roll them gently, just a little extra stimulation in tandem with your mouth. The tension in his thighs increases, his stomach tightening, and you can feel the way they draw a little closer to his body as he gets close. Instinct tells you to go faster, to give him more, but you keep slow and steady.

He’ll get there when he gets there, you think. In the meantime, you’re going to just enjoy yourself by listening to Nanami moan under his breath, his hand moving to the top of your head. He doesn’t push or pull, but simply rests the weight of his palm at the crown while you work him over with quiet enthusiasm.

Nanami’s hand tightens a little, his other balling into a fist, and you have but a moment to prepare before the first pulse of his release hits your tongue. Rather than make a show of it and pull off to let him paint your cheeks, you keep the tip just beyond your lips and make sure nothing is wasted as his hips jerk up in barely-controlled thrusts.

This time, you swallow and pull away, giving his cock one more kiss before putting him back in his pants and wiping your lips with the back of your hand. Once you’re sufficiently cleaned up, you plant your hands on the arms of the chair to push yourself up and give him a kiss to his cheek, feeling a bit of stubble rasping your lips from where it’d grown from this morning.

“Dinner will be ready in thirty. Are you eating with me, or do you need a little longer?”

Nanami’s breaths are long as he blinks at you a little slowly. Then, as if a man cured of some grave illness, a bit of the exhaustion melts away as he lifts his head. “I’ll come help you.”

“Hm… you can cut the vegetables, then.”

“So you can rush through the rest of it and tell me to sit down? No, I don’t think so,” Nanami pushes himself from the chair with a grunt, then presses his hand to your lower back to guide you from the room. “I’ll do the meat as well.”

“Well, now I don’t think we’ll have meat in the dish–”

“Hush.”

#mind the a/n for content warnings #nanami #nanami kento #kento nanami #nanami jjk #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #nanami x reader #nanami/reader #reader-insert #reader insert #gn!reader #x reader #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #mdni #nsft

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hogwartseighthyear · 2 years ago

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lessons in apparition

“your girl” series: part 1 | part 2 | (part 3) | part 4

(can be read as a standalone)

pairing: neville longbottom x fem!reader word count: 1.9k tags: rated G, house-neutral reader, outsider POV, fluff, pre-relationship, injury mentioned but not in explicit detail, Y/N used summary: neville jumps to your rescue during an apparition lesson gone wrong. note: set in sixth year, it’s less neville’s friends knowing he’s stupidly in love with you and more so neville’s friends knowing you’re both stupidly in love with each other. i skimmed over chapter 18 of HBP for canon compliancy’s sake, and i had a lot of fun writing this one. enjoy and thanks for reading! request: (anon) “Can I ask for a part 3 of your girl/part 2 of crush where we get more moments of nevilles friends knowing he's in love but in later years?″ [x] (cross-posted here to AO3)

“I’m just saying, Ronald, it wouldn’t kill you to be a little more—”

“Ronald, it wouldn’t kill you to be a little more—”

“Oh, mocking me again? Hilarious, really. That one certainly never gets old.”

“It’s not my fault you’re too bloody uptight to take a joke!”

“And it’s not my fault you’re too empty-headed to come up with anything original!”

Harry sighed as Ron and Hermione descended into yet another petty fight. They’d been at each other’s throats for months now, ever since Lavender had firmly attached herself to Ron’s side (and attached her mouth to his mouth, constantly), and Harry was getting quite tired of it.

It was Saturday morning—the morning of their second Apparition lesson—and despite the fact that the three of them had walked to the Great Hall together, Ron and Hermione had been so busy having a spat that they hadn’t said a single word to Harry the whole way there. So it wasn’t at all surprising that neither of them seemed to notice when Harry stepped away and swiftly headed off in the opposite direction.

He loved Ron and Hermione dearly, of course, but if he had to listen to them fight for a single minute longer he was certain he’d go insane.

The wooden hoops were already spread out on the floor and all the other sixth years chattered amongst themselves as they filtered into the Hall and found their places. Harry was careful not to trip as he weaved through the room, scanning his classmates for a friendly face. He would’ve liked to have taken the chance to eavesdrop on Malfoy again, just like the previous lesson, but he and his Slytherin cronies weren’t present yet.

“Oh, hello, Harry!”

Harry turned to find Neville waving happily at him. You were also there at Neville’s side, as you often were, and you sent Harry a smile. Harry let out a breath of relief and walked over. Perhaps he was only trading one pair of oblivious friends for another, but at least the two of you were actually pleasant to be around.

“Hey, Neville, Y/N. Mind if I stand with you guys?” Harry asked.

“‘Course not, you’re always welcome. Are Ron and Hermione still…?” Neville trailed off with a grimace.

“Being complete dunderheads?” Harry filled in. “Yes, unfortunately.”

You and Neville peered across the Great Hall over Harry’s shoulder, where said dunderheads were still arguing. Ron’s face was flushed red with anger and Hermione’s hand gestures had become increasingly animated. People were starting to cast odd looks their way, and Professor McGonagall was already approaching with a stern expression. Presumably to break up their squabble and take away house points.

“Goodness. They fight like an old married couple,” you commented.

“A miserable old married couple,” Neville said.

Harry thought the comparison was a bit ironic. If any two students at Hogwarts acted like an old married couple, it was you and Neville—but in a more wholesome and heartwarming way. So much so that it was a little sickening at times.

Neville made your tea for you each morning at breakfast, just the way you like it. You straightened his tie and fixed his hair without being asked. You finished each other’s sentences and cry-laughed at inside jokes no one else could ever hope to understand.

Frankly, Harry thought it was almost offensive that you and Neville weren’t dating already, as did everyone else who knew the two of you. But whatever. It wasn’t exactly any of his business. And anyway, these days Harry already had to deal with enough unresolved romantic tension just by being in proximity of Ron and Hermione.

“Do either of you reckon anyone will actually manage to Apparate today?” Harry asked conversationally as the Heads of Houses gathered at the front of the Great Hall and began calling for everyone to ready up and find a hoop.

“Well it certainly won’t be me. But Padma told me she felt a ‘tugging sensation’ during the last lesson. She seems really determined,” you offered. “What about you, Harry? Nev said you’ve done it once before. Maybe you’ll pick it up quicker since you already know what it’s like.”

“Only a Side-Along,” Harry clarified. “I’m not keen to do it again, honestly. It felt awful. I’d rather take a broom if I need to go anywhere. Or, y’know, use my legs.”

“That’s understandable,” you said, nodding. “I’m still excited to learn how to Apparate, though. It must be so useful to pop from one place to another just like”—you snapped your fingers—“that.”

“I just hope no one gets Splinched again this time around,” Neville said with a little shudder. “Seeing Susan’s leg like that was—”

“—ghastly,” you finished. “Poor Susan.”

The sixth years in the Hall quieted down as Wilkie Twycross, the Apparition instructor from the Ministry, stepped forward and welcomed everyone to their second lesson. Without anymore preamble, he dove straight into the same lecture he had given a week before. Remember the three D’s! Destination, Determination, Deliberation!

Neville sarcastically mouthed along, making you giggle. In turn, Neville beamed at you like you’d hung all the stars in the sky. And Harry, watching the whole display, didn’t know whether the sugary sweetness of it made him want to smile or throw up. Still, your and Neville’s affection was leagues better than Ron and Hermione’s antagonism. So he really couldn’t complain.

Just like the week prior, the first few Apparition attempts yielded a great deal of staggering and stumbling, but nothing more. Harry still didn’t feel any sort of tugging or tingling. He just felt a bit silly, staring at a wooden hoop and spinning in place time after time to absolutely no avail.

“Merlin!” you huffed after the seventh attempt. “Why do we even have to twirl like this? I swear I’ve seen people Disapparate without twirling.”

Standing between you and Harry, Neville had squeezed his eyes shut and bent forward to rest his hands on his knees, trying to ride out his dizziness. “I dunno. Aesthetic and flare?” he guessed.

You snorted. “Imagine!”

“Determination!” Twycross was reminding everyone from the front of the Hall. “Feel the yearning to occupy the hoop throughout your body, mind, and soul. Let it overcome you.”

Nearby, Seamus had sprawled out on the floor with a defeated expression, and Professor Flitwick was worriedly holding a conjured bin in front of Terry’s face, which had turned a concerning shade of green.

After a short recess, the sixth years collected themselves as best they could and readied up for another go. There was a distinct, mounting tension in the air. This would be the class’s eighth attempt. Nothing had happened yet, but the trend had to break eventually. The question was who would be the first, and how.

Though Harry knew the universe had a penchant for repeatedly placing him in extraordinary situations at the center of everyone’s attention, he really, really hoped it wouldn’t be him. He would be just fine if he never Apparated again in his life, thank you very much.

“Alright, students. Once again, on my count,” Twycross announced. “One… two… THREE!”

There was a loud CRACK, followed by a shriek of pain.

Harry whipped around to see you standing in your hoop, teetering in place, with one of your shoes sitting a short distance away. But it wasn’t just your shoe. It was your shoe with the foot still inside, just past the ankle.

Neville shouted in alarm. There was a second CRACK. And all of the sudden, Neville was also standing in your hoop, wrapping his arms around you to keep you from toppling over.

“PROFESSOR!” he yelled as you held onto him with a death grip, crying into the front of his sweater.

It was unclear which professor Neville was calling out for, but it didn’t seem to matter. Out of the four Heads of Houses in the Great Hall, it was Snape who happened to be the closest, and he quickly strode over in a great billowing mass of black robes. To general astonishment, Neville didn’t flinch or shrink away. He barely even glanced at Snape. All of his care and concern was focused entirely on you.

With a sharp wave of his wand, Professor Snape cast the proper spell, which shot off with a bang and a puff of purple smoke. Once the smoke cleared, Harry saw that your foot had been firmly reattached to your leg, though you still whimpered and clung to Neville.

The rest of the sixth years in the Hall, who had all been watching in silent shock, started to murmur. Harry rushed over to you and Neville.

“Y/N! Are you okay?” he asked.

“I-I think— I think I need to sit down,” you stammered through your tears.

Neville immediately lowered you to the floor, not releasing his hold on you. Harry followed, dropping to his knee as the three of you huddled together. You trembled fiercely.

“Do you need to be escorted to the hospital wing, Miss L/N?” Snape asked, his voice even and unexpressive. You had been one of his more competent Potions students when he was still teaching the subject, which was enough to spare you from his usual nastiness, apparently, despite Neville and Harry’s presence: Snape’s two least favorite students.

You shook your head, sniffling and wiping at your cheeks.

“Are you sure? Even for a Calming Draught?” Neville asked worriedly, patting you down as if checking for any other missing pieces.

“No, no. Just… give me a minute,” you breathed. “I’m okay. I’ll be okay.”

Snape stepped away, allowing you to collect yourself. Neville rubbed his hands up and down the sides of your arms, and Harry placed one of his own hands on your knee, giving it a supportive little pat. He wasn’t too adept at comforting other people, but he tried.

“Sir! I think Longbottom just Apparated!” someone from the crowd finally called out to Twycross, and the murmurs exploded into excited, noisy chatter.

“Longbottom? No way!”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Oh, come on!”

“I saw it! He Apparated!”

“It’s true, Longbottom Apparated!”

Neville frowned and glanced around at all the gawking students. “What? No I didn’t.”

“Yeah you did, mate,” Harry said. Despite the fact that he still felt rather shaken by the whole ordeal, a wide grin had worked its way onto his face. “You didn’t even have to do a spin.”

You laughed wetly in Neville’s arms. “I knew it. The twirls are useless.”

Twycross had wandered over to peer at the lot of you on the floor, his hands clasped behind his back.

“Ah, yes. An excellent example of sufficient determination at work,” he said. He turned to address the other sixth years. “Your whole entire being must want to move to your desired location, and you must be unwavering in that want. Now, while Apparition may come easier in moments of high emotion, it will do all of you well to remember…”

Harry tuned out the rest of Twycross’s lecture, suppressing an eye roll, and looked back to you and Neville.

Neville had turned quite pink, and the enamored smile you were directing his way certainly didn’t help matters. Harry’s own face heated in embarrassment at the sight, feeling as though he was suddenly intruding on something far too tender for his own eyes. He quickly removed his hand from your knee. You didn’t seem to notice.

“You know you’re amazing, right?” you said to Neville.

“I didn’t really do anything—”

“Don’t,” you said gently, and reeled him in for a hug. Harry heard a muffled thank you against Neville’s shoulder. He took a shaky breath and held you tighter in response.

Harry stood and returned to his hoop, leaving you and Neville behind for a moment of privacy. Yeah, that was enough unresolved romantic tension for him today.

#neville longbottom x reader #neville longbottom x you #neville x reader #neville x you #neville longbottom #neville longbottom fic #my writing #request

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wincestreversebang · 3 months ago

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2024 Master Post

Title: Soulbound Enchantment Artist: midnightsilver Author: masoena Other Pairing: mention of ofc/omc Rating: Explicit Warnings/Spoilers: Non-consensual groping, explicit canon-typical violence, non-consensual body transformation Summary: Sam and Dean wake up in a lush, green landscape; a world decidedly not where they remember being before. Sam also realizes he is no longer human as they embark on an adventure to figure out where and why they are in this place. The path to solving this case is dotted with tender, angst-filled, violent and scary moments as the Winchesters work together to figure out how to save themselves in more ways than one. Art: Ao3 Story: Ao3

Title: You Circle Me In the Night Artist: morokollisyo Author: theteacupunicorn Rating: Mature Warnings/Spoilers: Canon-typical violence, violence happening to a sixteen-year-old Sam Summary: Dean plopped down next to Sam. “Guess I’ll be taking the cot tonight, huh?”

“You don’t have to,” Sam said at once. “I don’t want you to get kicked out of your bed because I couldn’t dodge some ghost.”

Dean smiled. “Well, can’t say I’m complaining.” He got comfortable in his bed, only a couple inches from Sam, and promptly shoved his pillow in Sam’s face.

“Dean!” Sam sputtered, whacking Dean with the pillow once he could see again.

Dean cackled, but they both froze when John’s stern voice resounded. “Boys, settle down.”

Dean took his pillow back from Sam and tucked it under his head. “Sorry,” he said in a small voice. He looked confused again, like he had in the car when John had told him not to worry about Sam’s injury. Art:Live Journal | Ao3 Story:Ao3

Title: Fixing a Hole Artist: i-already-know-im-going-2-hell Author: amypond45 Rating: R Warnings/Spoilers: Season 2 AU, Wincest (explicit at times) Summary: This story is a retelling of Season 2, starting when Dean reveals what Dad said to him in the hospital at the beginning of “Hunted”. Instead of running off, Sam confesses that he’s had a premonition about this very moment. He already knows what Dean’s about to tell him, as well as their entire, bloody future until the moment Sam jumps into the pit. As he reveals his visions to Dean, it soon becomes clear that they need to find a way to prevent the death and destruction laid out for them in those visions. One thing leads to another, with revelations of feelings long buried deep. Can Sam, with Dean’s help, find a way to avoid the coming apocalypse, just by falling in love? Or are they destined to retravel the road to distrust that leads to their own demise and the end of the world — or the saving of it after years of loss and sacrifice? And if they stop it from happening, what does that say about them as men, as brothers, and as heroes? Art:Ao3 Story:Live Journal | Ao3

Title: Ubi Amor, Ibi Dolor Artist: deeranger Author: hello-starlingfics Other Pairing: past Sam/Lucifer Rating: E Warnings/Spoilers: Rape/Noncon (described and in the past), Violence, Torture, PTSD. Sexual activity between the boys with consent from neither. Summary: While investigating a possible coven, Sam and Dean get a lead: an abandoned factory just outside of town. When they check it out, things go sideways fast. Art:Twitter | Tumblr Story:Ao3

Title: Crafting Happiness Artist: StepicliffeGrey Author: SamandDean76 Rating: Explicit Warnings/Spoilers: Canon-Typical Violence, Non-Graphic Violence, Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Series, Men of Letters Bunker, Canon Compliant, Story Runs For The Duration Of The Series, Pre-Series Sam, Dean, & John, Hurt Sam Winchester, Protective Dean Winchester, First Time Summary: Nine-year old Sam had fifty cents and a mission. To find a hidden treasure in the thrift store that he could make his own. It would end up taking him his entire life, but what he found at the bottom of that dingy bin became a lifeline that helped to guide him on a journey that few others could even begin to imagine. Through all the ups and downs, and with Dean ever by his side, Sam did his best to craft some happiness for not only himself, but all those he cherished. Art:Ao3 Story:Ao3

Title: I Was Born To Press My Head Between Your Shoulder Blades Artist: MidnightSilver Author: TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving Rating: Mature Warnings/Spoilers: Canon divergence, soulmate identifying marks, reference canon up til season 5, John Winchester’s A+ parenting, description of canon level violence, djinn, allusions to dying of dehydration, pining, men kissing, sappy ending Summary: In a world where only soulmates can see their soulmarks, Dean has one curving around his finger. His soulmate on the other hand doesn’t have one.

Except maybe he does Art:Ao3 Story:Ao3

Title: Vampire Cotton Candy Artist: Bluefire986 Author: Masoena Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: Rape/Non-con (not between Sam/Dean), explicit violence, temporary character death (transformation to creature) Summary: In this story Sam hits a wolf at the outset of season 8 causing him and Amelia to meet under different circumstances as he transforms into a werewolf later on. Dean returns from purgatory and immediately figures out what Sam is, together they try and work out this new normal. Dean being kidnapped by vampires turns their already crazy upside down once more as they are both hurt in the process and must fight to be free once more. Art:Live Journal | Ao3 Story:Ao3

Title: Pain In My Heart Artist: bluefire986 Author: hello-starlingfics Rating: Mature Warnings/Spoilers: Canon-typical torture and violence, non-consensual touching and kissing. One mention of offscreen suicides early in the fic. Summary: Post-4x16 On The Head Of A Pin.

Dean stomped back to their motel room alone. This hunt was a bust and Sam had disappeared as soon as they’d realized that it hadn’t been a pair of witchcraft-related murders, but a suicide pact between two people with a history of mental health issues longer than even Sam’s arm. It had been a depressing and frustrating day, and Sam bailing on him made everything worse. Art:Live Journal | Ao3 Story:Ao3

Title: Hollow Pursuits Artist: MidnightSilver Author: Kestra_Tori Rating: M Warnings/Spoilers: Public Nudity, Weirdcest, Incestuous Thoughts Summary: Odd deaths bring the boys to a placed called the Happy Hippie Hollow. To Dean’s chagrin it’s a nudist colony. Sam rolls with it. Art:Ao3 Story:Tumblr | Ao3

#wincest reverse bang #wincest reverse bang 2024 #mod post #master post #master post 2024

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lady-pug · 1 year ago

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Copikla

Summary: Crosshair hates you, Clone Force 99��s new on-board medic. He doesn’t understand how you can be so sweet, kind and happy all the time. His brothers seem to have taken you in as one of their own quite well, but he can’t seem to let his guard down around you. But maybe, just maybe, you’ll grow on him as well.

Pairing: Crosshair x Reader

Word count: 3,4k

Warnings: none, other than Crosshair being a major asshole sometimes

Notes: Okay, I loved writing this one! I really wanted to write a /Reader dynamic based on Pixie and Brutus (by @pet_foolery) and Crosshair instantly came to mind. I already have ideas for at least 2 more installments for this series, so I really hope you enjoy this (this is pre-Echo btw). Just on quick note, here’s the Mando’a translation for Cross’s nickname for the reader:

Copikla - charming, cute (babies and animals - never women unless you want your head ripped off, but c’mon we all know Crosshair is a bastard)

I really hope you, dear reader, enjoy this and have fun while reading it. If you spot any mistakes, please feel free to warn me and I'll correct it right away, and feedback is always welcome and appreciated. I hope you truly enjoy this story.

Reader is female, but no physical descriptions provided

(Also, thank you so so much for the overwhelming support on all the other fics I posted here, it means the world to me!)

Next part | Masterlist | Read on AO3

Crosshair couldn’t stand it.

It had been three standard months. Exactly 105 rotations since this nightmare started. He had been against it from the start, they had Tech, why would they need a kriffing medic in the first place?

Wrecker’s boisterous laughter, accompanied by softer, quieter giggles, reminded him exactly why.

A mission in Mon Gazza had gone terribly wrong (well, GAR high command considered it a success, as they had managed to secure their objective, but in the eyes of the members of Clone Force 99 it had been a total failure). In an attempt to locate and secure a target who had informed the Republic they possessed vital information on the inner command of Separatist forces, things had turned sour very quickly. A run in with the Pykes had thrown a wrench in their plans of making a quick escape, and a precarious explosion too close to Wrecker (not armed nor controlled by him this time around) had almost cost him his life.

Rushing him to the closest Republic medical base, a specialist had to be called in due to the severity of his injuries. The medic, they were later told, was the same one who had operated on Commander Wolffe of the 104th after his face-off against Asajj Ventress on Khorm. Back then, although she had not managed to save his eye, which had to be replaced by a cybernetic one instead, she did manage to recuperate just enough brain tissue around the area of the injury to save him from possible decommission (as if General Koon would ever let that happen). The head surgeon on base assured the Batch that Wrecker was on the best possible hands.

And, as it turned out, they had been right. Wrecker had woken up a few days after a soak in the bacta tank with no more than extensive scarring on the left side of his face, partial hearing loss and almost total eyesight loss in his left eye (“Nothing some tinkering with his helmet’s visor cannot fix.” Tech had said). All in all, he was as fine as one could be after such an event.

Even if the mission was a success and Wrecker was still alive (although a little uglier than before, according to Crosshair’s lighthearted teasing), their officials had decided they were too reckless (no matter how many times Hunter had emphasized on the mission’s report that the explosion was collateral and not at all Wrecker’s fault in this specific case) and should be accompanied by medical personal at all times, assigning them an on board medic. Commander Cody interceded in their favor, knowing they wouldn’t work well with a clone medic, and requested a natborn. In the end, the very same medic who had treated Wrecker had volunteered for the job.

That had been three months ago. You had adapted well to the life on board the Havoc Marauder. His brothers, the fools, had immediately been hooked on your charms, but not him. Oh, not him.

Crosshair hated you.

You were sweet, too sweet. Sweet enough to give him cavities. It wasn’t possible for someone to be that happy and cheerful and kind all the time. You were always smiling, you always indulged in Tech’s info-dumping. Always laughed at Wrecker’s awful jokes, always let him have your sweet flavored ration as a second desert. Always took over for Hunter when his senses were overwhelming him, helping him get comfortable in the safety of his bunk and dimming the lights.

And he wasn’t an exception. Even with all his bitter words and snarky comments, you were always nice to him. No matter how rude he was to you, you were always kind in return. You smiled in his direction in the morning. You kept him company while he was on watch duty. You were, he loathed to admit, a nice person overall.

But Crosshair didn’t believe in free-niceties. There was no way you were that sweet just out of the goodness of your heart. Surely there was something wrong about you, he just had to find out what.

Crosshair was cleaning his rifle for the umpteenth time that day and desperately trying to ignore the sweet timber of your voice as Tech taught you how to conduct minor repairs around the ship. It had been your idea, selfless as always, as in doing so you could help him around and reduce his workload if Tech was ever tired or injured after a mission.

Try as he might, Crosshair couldn’t ignore the endless seam of chatter coming from the two of you. Tech would go on long tangents about specific parts and their functions and you’d engage by asking questions and have him explain things further. It was enough for him to roll his eyes and grip the rag in his hand tighter.

As his mind drifted off to the mission they had just finished he almost didn’t realize that the ship had become silent. Thank the maker. He finally relaxed against the cold durasteel wall. That is until he heard footsteps approaching the crate he was currently sitting on.

“Hey Crosshair!” you greeted cheerfully, to which he sighed painfully.

You waited a few beats before addressing him again.

“So…” you smiled softly at him. Ugh.

“What?” he answered, contempt dripping from his tone.

“Tech and I are making a quick run to the local market. We’re all out of resistors and he doesn’t like to leave the stock empty.”

“I’m busy.”

“Oh.” for a moment you sounded just a tiny bit disappointed, and he thought would finally leave him alone, but no such luck “With what?”

Instead of answering, he simply looked from you to his Firepuncher and back to you, a frown on his face that clearly meant to ask if you were stupid or something.

“But…” you smiled awkwardly “You’ve been doing that for the past hour.”

“So?” he only kept on scrubbing his rifle, the rag no longer clean and rendered useless.

“Well, we thought you might want to come with us! You know, it’s sunny outside and that is such a rarity for us. I think it might do us all some good.”

“You thought wrong.” he spat.

“As a matter of fact,” Tech piped in from behind you, like he hadn’t been listening in to this whole conversation “it is scientifically proven that sunlight does help to stimulate the production of vitamin D. So this walk would, indeed, be beneficial for all of us, including you.”

“Come on, Cross! It’ll be fun!”

Something about the way you said his name, this little nickname you had given him, made something inside him snap.

“Haven’t you heard when I said I’m busy?!” he snapped, throwing the rag on the ground “I don’t want to go on a kriffing walk!”

You visibly deflated in response to his words, your smile falling from your face.

“I’m sorry, Crosshair.” you said, voice much quieter than before “We won’t bother you anymore.”

As you walked away, Crosshair tried to ignore the glare his brother was sending his way as he picked the rag from the floor and resumed his cleaning, even if the Firepuncher was glimmering and pristine.

Only when Tech was also out of reach did he allow the tension slip from his shoulders with a heavy sigh.

Great.

His head was killing him. He had a splitting headache from working in the snow all day, the light reflected by the white, glimmering floor of the planet they were currently stationed for a stakeout mission hurting his already sensitive vision. If this was how Hunter felt when his senses started overwhelming him then he actually pitied his brother and sergeant.

All he wanted was to take a sonic in the fresher and then crash on his bunk. But as he left the cockpit his nose picked up on something… different. As he sniffed the air around him he realized something smelled good around the ship.

Whatever it was, it had a sweet smell to it. It was sugary and soft and comfortable, almost like- he shuddered as he realized where his mind was taking him. Like you , his brain filled in for him against his wishes. The sweet scent in the ship reminded him of you.

He shook his head to rid himself of those horrendous thoughts and decided to investigate. Whatever was making this smell was something new, nothing like he ever experienced before, and he’d be damned if he didn’t find out what it was. As he walked further into the hull of the ship, he came to a halt as he came face to face with you, Wrecker and Gonky.

“Hey Crosshair!” Wrecker’s booming voice called out for him “Tech modified Gonky to work as an oven and Doc here is making cookies for us!”

He took a moment to notice your appearances. Both of you were wearing matching checkered aprons, albeit Wrecker’s was a lot more covered in flour than your own. Similarly, Gonky had a few specks of brown sugar all over itself.

“Cinnamon and chocolate chips! An authentic Alderaanian recipe.” you smiled at him, so sweetly he could bet if he were to take a bit out of you you’d taste just like those cookies “We’ve only just managed to fit one batch at a time inside of Gonky, the other one still needs kneading. Would you like to help?”

He sneered, almost offended, and started walking towards his bunk.

“I’d rather try taking an ackley in a fistfight.”

“Oh. Well, the first batch is almost ready, would you like one?” you asked, not at all unsettled by his harsh words.

“I’d rather eat shredded glass.” he answered with the most nonchalant shrug he could muster as he walked past you and into the bunk area.

Right as he was about to punch the controls and close the door, he heard the softest, quietest sniffle, followed by Wrecker’s voice, a lot quieter than it usually was, trying to console you.

“Don’t mind him, baar’ur’ika. He is like that with everyone. He’s just a grumpy, mean di’kut.”

As he finally closed the door, he couldn’t help the twinge of guilt growing in his chest.

“Let me take a look at that, Cross.”

Crosshair huffed, storming inside the Marauder, his blacks soaking underneath his glistening armor. The Batch hated missions in Donovia, its rainy nature often reminiscent of that in Kamino, an annoying reminder of the only thing they had to call home. There wasn’t a single mission there that didn’t leave them soaked to bone.

“Crosshair!” you stormed in after him.

“What is it, Copikla?” he sneered, turning back towards you.

Once he realized you weren’t going anywhere, no matter how hard he tried to push you away, he came to terms with the fact that there was no other way than to embrace your presence instead of ignoring it all together. However, he decided to make his displeasure known to anyone who would listen, especially you. As one of his first deeds towards you, since you decided to grant him a nickname, he thought it was only fitting to give you one right back.

“Your shoulder is hurt. Let me take a look.”

Crosshair sighed, annoyed. During the mission, while he kept an eye on the scope to ensure his brothers didn’t get their shebs killed, a surveillance assassin droid managed to get a hit to his shoulder, the blaster bolt grazing his skin beneath his shoulderplates before you, who had been doing the lookout with him, got your own hit in, eliminating the droid. Great, he thought, now he was in your debt .

And since that very moment you’d been nagging his ear off about checking his injury.

“It was just a graze,” he dismissed “nothing to worry about.”

You huffed back at him, chest puffed in indignance.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” you waved the medkit, the one you always carried around, at him “Now take your armor off.”

He smirked, his mean grin full of mirth.

“If you wanted to see me naked, Copikla, all you had to do was ask.”

Your back straightened, stiffer than a board, as you pursed your lips. Gotcha. He could bet your cheeks were flaming, maybe even your neck and ears too. You were way too easy to toy with.

But something he didn’t expect was for you to laugh. Out of all the things he was expecting, hoping, you’d do giggling was not one of them.

“You’re all bark and no bite, right, Cross?” you chuckled, your eyes gleaming at him “Now come on, let me take a look.”

When he didn’t budge, it was your turn to sigh, so softly he almost didn’t hear.

“Please?”

He stood up, stalking towards you one step at a time, before leaning closer to you only slightly, looking you right in the eyes.

“If you want to, come and get me, Copikla.” his voice was dripping venom as he whispered, only loud enough for you to hear.

Or so he thought.

“Crosshair!” came Hunter’s booming, angry voice from the ship’s ramp. He was quickly followed by Tech and Wrecker, all three of them equally soaked as they finally caught up to the two of you.

Hunter stomped towards him, gripping his upper arm and practically ripping him away from you. As he turned to face his sergeant, he was greeted with the scowling faces of all three of his brothers.

“I know you didn’t ask for any of this, her being here, in the first place,” Hunter’s voice was low, his tone one Crosshair only heard when his brother was truly angry “but this has gone too far. She’s as much part of this squad as any of us. And you’ll treat her with the due respect.”

Crosshair’s shoulders tensed. How could his own brothers, his batchmates, disagree with him on this? Could they not see it? He huffed, vexed by this whole situation, and promptly left the ship towards the rainy outside.

After a long while (could have been minutes or hours, he couldn’t bring himself to care) of ruminating the past events, he honestly didn’t feel any better. He didn’t even like you, so why did he feel… bad? Guilty even?

As he fished inside his utility belt for a soggy toothpick to put between his lips, he heard the soft splatting sound of footsteps headed his way. He groaned, not in the mood for yet another one of Hunter’s scoldings, when the rain all of a sudden stopped pouring over his head. Looking up he noticed a rainbow-colored umbrella and, following the durasteel handle, he was surprised to find you holding it over both your heads.

“Hi.” you smiled at him, and he felt undeserving of it.

“What are you doing here?”

“Thought you might be lonely and in need of some company.”

He averted his eyes, gazing at the rain as your words settled over him.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“What?” you asked, genuinely confused.

“How come you are so nice to everyone? How are you so happy all the time?” he inquired.

It was your turn to look away from him, a small hum escaping your parted lips.

“It’s a conscient choice, you know?” you explained “At least in my case it is.”

He didn’t say anything, but if the slight tilt of his head in your direction was anything to go by, you knew you had his attention.

“I’ve seen what constant bitterness and rage does to a person.” you elaborated “When I was a child, my planet was raided by pirates. My parents, our village’s guides, tried sending a distress call to the Republic. But no answer came.”

He now turned fully towards you, intrigued. The first thing he noticed were your eyes. Your eyes, normally so lively and full of joy, were dull and glazed over, a misty sheen of tears covering them.

“They killed them. My parents and the other members of the village’s ruling council.” you took a deep breath, trying to stabilize yourself before continuing “My brother was almost an adult at the time. With everything that was happening, he became bitter, full of anger and hatred. He gathered a small group of teens, including me, and we managed to overthrow the pirates. But that wasn’t enough to quell the rage simmering inside of him.”

For a moment, Crosshair felt compelled to lay a comforting hand on your shoulder, but refrained from doing so, thinking the gesture wouldn’t be appreciated.

“The bitterness he felt towards the Republic for not helping us was festering in his heart. He was thirsty for vengeance, just waiting for the perfect opportunity. And then the war started.” you sniffled, laughing bitterly “He made a deal with the Separatists, practically sold us over to their nefarious plans. He was blinded by his bitterness, not realizing he was trusting the wrong people.”

Your frown, something so out-of-tune with your entire personality, suddenly turned into a sad smile.

“After his death at the hands of the Seppies, I realized I was following down the same path as him, constantly bitter and angry all the time. So I decided it was time for a change. I was already studying to become a pediatrician, so I thought ‘Maybe if I help in the war effort, this war will end quicker’. Maybe it’s stupid but…” you shrugged “I also promised myself I would let my anger consume me.”

Crosshair’s eyebrows rose to his forehead.

“But how do you never get angry?”

“Who says that I don’t?” you laughed quietly “I do, many times. I just- let myself feel it. All of it, for just one moment. Then I let it all go. And I think of all the things that make me happy. Like Wrecker’s hugs. Or Tech’s love for nature and science. Or Hunter’s calming presence. Or-” you smiled at him, so brightly it was almost infectious “or you.”

He felt like he was doused in cold water.

“I’m sorry,” he looked away again, head hanging in shame “for the way I’ve been treating you.”

“It’s alright, Cross-”

“No, it isn’t!” he snapped, then took a moment to calm down “It’s just-”

You smiled at him, a hand laying softly over one of his and squeezing his fingers encouragingly.

“As cadets, we never knew kindness.” he explained “The Kaminoans were cold by nature and didn’t really care about us to begin with. And the regs…”

“I know. Hunter told me about that.”

He sighed. He could bet Hunter didn’t tell you everything.

“They were mean to us. Especially Wrecker and Tech. But also to me and, less often, Hunter.” he laughed, somewhat bitterly “But they could be kind when they wanted to. When they wanted something from us. Or when they were up for a good laugh.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, worried.

“They would pretend to be our friends, apologize for the things they had said and done, only to stab us in the back.” he sighed “Let’s just say the regs are known for pulling the best pranks.”

You gasped softly and squeezed his fingers once again.

“Cross, that’s horrible!”

“You’re telling me.” he turned back towards you “And now-”

“You no longer allow yourself to trust anyone who shows you kindness without thinking they have hidden intentions?” you smiled knowingly.

His shoulders dropped as he looked at his feet. No matter how horrible he had been, you seemed to know him so well.

“Cross, look at me.” he glanced at you, he realized your eyes were soft and your smile, reassuring “I promise you, with all my heart, that all I want is for you, the four of you, to be happy.” you shook your head, a mirthful scowl on your face “Well, that and that you’re all healthy and uninjured.”

He grimaced, sheepishly.

“You’re one of a kind, Copikla.” he said, the nickname coming out not as a sneer, like previous times he used it, but more lighthearted, teasingly.

“Hunter also told me what that means.” you smirked at him.

Crosshair winced.

“Would you like me to stop?”

You pretended to think for a moment, even going as far as scratching your chin.

“Nah, I think it suits me. Don’t you think, Cross?”

For once since a long time, long before he started cadet training, he smiled, a full soft smile.

“Yeah, Copikla,” he agreed “I think it does.”

#crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair x reader #crosshair x f!reader #tbb crosshair x f!reader #crosshair x fem!reader #the bad batch fanfiction #tbb crosshair #tbb crosshair fanfic

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destieltaggedfic · 1 year ago

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Amnesia - Part 9

Thank goodness we got Ao3 back right?

All These Precious Memories - jealoussam (swsquadleadr327) Ao3

Set S10. An alternate demon cure has left Dean with no memories of the past 5 years, getting to know Cas again he learns the angel is dying and they ramp up attempts to find a way to save him.

Word Count: 24k No Sex

Let Me Give the World to You - zerostumbleine33 Ao3

Set S8 AU. When Cas wakes up in the bunker human, he doesn’t have a lot of memories past getting out of purgatory, only told by the Winchesters that they were more concerned with keeping him alive than whatever had happened. But he gets clues they do actually know what has happened and it had something to do with heaven. Meanwhile, he and Dean are growing closer as Cas is getting used to being a human. But the secrets will cause problems.

Word Count: 46k Graphic Sexual Acts

Like a Comet in the Sky, I'll Follow You Across the Universe - super_skam310 Ao3

Set Post S15 & Pre S1 AU. When Jack brings Castiel back from the empty Dean is already dead. The next thing he knows (or doesn’t know) he’s waking up in 2001, with no memory except his name. He accidentally falls into a hunt and not long after meets Dean who he has an immediate connection with. They start hunting together and Cas gets curious about his strange abilities.

Word Count: 107k Non-Graphic Sex

Don't Forget Me, I Beg - make_your_user_a_name Ao3

Nonspecific timeframe. Waking up in a hospital with next to no memories isn’t a great start to Castiel’s day. Luckily according to Rowena, all he needs to fix it is a kiss from the person he’s in love with.

Word Count: 3k No Sex

West - Desirae Ao3

Set 15x20 didn’t happen AU. After everything, Dean retires to a cabin near Sioux Falls so he can grieve Cas. What he doesn’t realise is that the visions he’s having of his friend are because The Empty let him go, but not without taking his memories. Now Cas is trying to find his way back to the man he only vaguely remembers.

Word Count: 27k Graphic Sexual Acts

#destiel #fic recs #amnesia fic

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randomfoggytiger · 1 year ago

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X-Files Collector's Edition: Dad!Mulder, His "Mini Me"s, and Sports

Mulder deserved to bond with his "mini me"s over any sport under the sun. Here are a few fics that do just that.

Loose chronological order below~

Canon Timeline

Susan Proto’s Memory's Promise

""His first, real baseball glove. He smiled at the fond memories he held of his father and he going to the sporting goods store to pick out the perfect glove. He remembered the arduous process of breaking in the glove and trying to follow every single direction his father had given him to do it just right.

He oiled it. And he rubbed it. And he placed the baseball inside to make the perfect pocket and flinched slightly at the memory of how his hands stung when he'd tried to wrap the rubber band around it to hold the ball in place and the band snapped and stung him to the point of tears. He remembered his father found him whimpering slightly, and gently guided him into his den, all the while telling him he had just the thing to keep that ol' ball in place. His dad pulled out the biggest rubber band he'd ever seen; Mulder smiled at the sweet memory of being so taken with something so simplistic.""

Pre-Empedocles Mulder remembers a happy childhood memory of becoming Samantha's protector and learning baseball from his father. He's ready.

@folieadeux1121-blog's What Might Have Been

""Hips before hands!” came a little voice in front of Mulder. William glanced over his shoulder, up at his dad, his smile wide. Now four years old, he was excited for his first baseball lesson, and had been ever since Mulder had told him it was happening.

“That’s right kiddo.” Bending down, Mulder wrapped his arms around his son to take hold of the bat the little boy was holding. It was almost as big as William was. “Just remember that and when the ball comes towards you…” he nodded at Scully, signalling he was ready for her to pitch. “You follow through like this…” Scully threw the ball, as gently as she could, and with Mulder’s help William did as his dad asked, the bat connecting with it and sending it a short way to their left. “That’s it!""

Mulder teaches his four-year-old son how to play baseball under the happy eye of Scully. It's not real (that is... if you read the last part.)

Lara Means's (Alt. Ao3) Unrealized Reality

""When he had just turned ten, he practically begged his parents to let him try out for Little League. His father thought it was a great idea, but it seemed to her he was more suited to basketball. Tall and thin, but graceful, like his father. No matter. Her husband had already decided their boy would be the 2025 World Series MVP.""

S9 Mulder returned from the run one year later, married Scully, fathering another baby, and taught his son how to play baseball. Alas, it was all false (or not if you skip the last part.)

@frangipanidownunder’s (Ao3)

Son

""Mulder hoisted the hoop set up to his son, handed him the drill, watched him work. That floppy hair, the gritted teeth, the flashing smile every so often. Pure Mulder. But the steely eyes, the surety of his hands, the precision, that was all Scully.

Back down on the handstanding, admiring his handiwork, Jackson span the ball on his left index finger. A genetic throwback or a learned thing?

“One on one, old man?""

Post Finale Will shows up to fix Mulder's basketball hoop and start to bond over their mutual interest.

Micro Fic Series - Chapter 8

""Mulder have been able to gather them up, press them, ready to keep like a journal of his days without them. When Mulder discovered he’d never hit a ball, he went all Fox Mantle and now they head out every afternoon, bats slung over shoulders, careful smiles on ruddy faces. She watches as her son, their son, bat propped against his legs, hands on hips, flexes his jaw and listens to the instructions. A willing young Mulder outlined in an orange glow. A proud father finally able to share precious moments, in the autumn years of their lives.""

AU-- Post My Struggle II(?) Mulder is recovering from the virus, taking time to teach William to play baseball.

@moldyandskuller's team spirit

""She opens the lid and rifles through it, pulling out stray t-shirts, two pairs of jeans – she’ll steal some boxers and basketball shorts from his drawers. And when her eyes fall on a piece of shiny gray fabric, she wonders what it’s doing in the box, why it doesn’t have a hanger – its own frame, and she pulls it free from its hold.

She looks at her son. “You like baseball?” But it’s more of a statement than a question.

“Yeah.”

She folds the jersey, places it on top of the pile of clothes she’ll lend to him. “When he gets home, you should ask your – ask Mulder to tell you the story about this,” she says. “it’s a good one.""

Mulder and Scully pack a relationship's worth of history into his Gray's baseball t-shirt, passing it onto Will in sundry parts of his life.

@mchalowitz's (Ao3) endearments, part 5

""He swears to Scully that he’s encouraging her interest, not influencing it. He only concedes to listening to sports radio during many sleepless nights during the first year.

“Katie Mantle steps up to the plate,” Mulder murmurs. “Even in the pre-season, she is playing a perfect game.”

Katherine purses her lips at him, slightly lifted at the corners. Her eyes are all determined concentration.

Mulder pitches slow, underhand, and he can’t help but be amazed by his child when the ball flies behind him.""

Post Finale Mulder bonds with his little girl, naming her and not influencing her to be a baseball star (but also...) He's always proud of his growing girl.

@atths–twice/ATTHS_TWICE’s (team spirit

Baseball Showdown (Ao3)

""She held her bat and got into her stance, ready to hit the ball. He smiled and threw the ball into his glove a few times.

“The pitcher readies his pitch, the batter holds the bat tight and sure, they are both waiting.”

“Daddy,” she laughed, smiling and happy, tilting her head to the side.

“And the pitcher sees the sign from the catcher,” he said, shaking his head as he looked at the net set up behind her, not wanting balls to get lost in the field. “He doesn’t like that one, so he waits for another sign. Oh, he must like that one as he nods and gets ready. And… here’s the pitch!”

He threw the ball underhanded to Faith and she swung, but missed.

“Striiiiiiiike!” Mulder yelled in a deep voice and Faith laughed as she bent to pick up the ball and toss it back as it bounced off the net.""

Mulder lets his Revival daughter win at baseball, celebrating her indoor success and taking her out for ice cream.

Canon Divergent Timeline

Cathey Scully's Ballgame

""Mulder produced 3 tickets for dugout level. He grinned, picking up one of William's hands. "Can't you see it Scully? You, me, and this guy on the big screen that looks over centerfield, while we watch a bunch of guys slap a piece of horsehide with a stick."

"Mulder," Scully sighed in affectionate exasperation. "This is his 'half-birthday' present?"

"Yep." Mulder grinned down at her. Scully rolled her eyes until William called for her attention. She looked down at him to find him grinning a nearly toothless grin at her.

"You too?" she asked, already caving.""

AU-- Mulder drags Scully out of bed for a baseball game to celebrate Will's first six months of life.

Defnotmeyo’s (WBM, Alt. WBM)

122 Days iv

""Kid’s gonna look good in Yankees gear,” he thinks aloud, and tries to eat his words for a second when her hand stops.

There’s a heavy minute of silence shattered by another whap of the bat, and she slowly resumes ruffling her hand across his chest.

“Bill already bought her a Padres onesie...""

Post Empedocles? Mulder (in this many part miniseries) is warming up to his impending fatherhood. During a baseball game, he's scared he's overstepped by laying claim to the baby's team. Scully smooths the awkward moment. (Love this one.)

Unnamed

""He’s four, the first time it happens.

“Mulder, he’s too young to be slapping horse-hide with a stick.”

“How else you think we’re gonna be able to afford to put this monkey through college?” his Pops lobs back at his Mom.""

AU-- Mulder savvily teaches his son the art of baseball.

An Anon's Unnamed

""Where is he, anyway ? He had a good reason, apparently, but didn’t want to tell her. Scully walks to Will’s bedroom and swears she can smell paint in the hallway.

At this moment, Mulder opens the bedroom door, and she’s face to face with his grey stained tee. She starts speaking when he grabs her shoulders and immediately cuts her : « Wait, wait. Close your eyes, ok ? »

It takes her 1 or 2 seconds to do it, but she obeys, silently praying he didn’t blow up their son’s room.""

AU-- Mulder-- faint of heart-- skips Will's vaccinations; but he made up for it by decorating his son's bedroom in style.

andsocanshe's Of Pitches and Pondering

""There’s a bag of sports equipment off to the left by the bench, Scully’s leaning against the gate, and Mulder is crouched down on the ground with a toddler in front of him. The five minutes it should have taken to explain the concept of baseball have turned into nearly twenty, but William’s interest in every detail about the game and the park around them is worth it.

He’s at the age of “why’s” and everything is one question followed by another and so on. The questions “Why do we have to go to bed?”, “Why do you go to work and not Daddy, too?”, and his personal favorite, the word “Why?” with no additional context have ruled Scully and Mulder’s day-to-day lives for the past few months. Her mother, psychology, and all the parenting books say that it’s just a phase, one that every child goes through, but Scully often wonders if her son gets this from his father; the constant search for a truthful explanation.""

AU-- Scully observes her sporty Mulders, father and toddler, bonding over Will's first baseball lesson.

Girlie_girl7’s Day in the Life, A 35

""He holds the bat high making small circles in the air. He stops, stands still, and then swings. An imaginary crack is heard as the invisible ball sails higher and higher matching the pitch of the make believe crowd. Mulder throws his bat down, makes a fist and pumps it in the air. He lopes to the sandbox making sure to tag it then hustles to the end of the pool fence touching an imaginary second base. He jogs to the barbeque grill and taps the propane tank with his foot. He rounds third and begins his trek to home plate tipping his hat and waving to the crowd. He makes one final leap and lands on the flagstone home plate. He is turning to bow to the crowds when he hears, "Da-dee, wha' ya doin'?""

AU-- William is NOT interested in baseball; and accidentally hits Mulder in a very sensitive area.

Polly's (Ao3) Believing in Miracles (Ao3)

""I took my seat as Mulder slid the glove onto Will's left hand. He beamed with fatherly pride as Will punched his fist into the pocket of the mitt a few times before holding it up to his face to inhale the aroma of the well-treated leather.

Lately Will insisted on wearing his mitt when we watched baseball on television, wanting to be prepared in case a foul ball came hurtling out of the set. It didn't surprise me that Mulder hadn't explained to Will that the glove wasn't necessary; it was only surprising that Mulder wasn't wearing one too.""

AU-- It's the World Series: Mulder and Scully and Will celebrate in style-- throwing popcorn, guitar riffing to the anthem, and delving into Mulder's relationship with his father and acting on his hope that, after their day of miracles, he and Scully will be able to pull off another one. (I love this fic so much.)

@contrivedcoincidences6/Spooky66/geektime66’s

Baseball and Horror (Ao3)

""She poked her head out of the kitchen and saw William sitting on the couch wearing a Yankees hat and leaning forward concentrating on the game.

Mulder had his hand on their son’s back and sat back cracking sunflower seeds. She smiled happily at the quaint image before her and decided to move herself and her work to the couch.

William happily moved over when he saw her, “You’re gonna watch?""

AU-- Mulder and Will watch a Cubs game while Scully works on paperwork. She gives in rather quickly.

@blackcoffeeandteardrops‘s (Ao3) Dulcet (Ao3

""After the cake they'd gone outside for party games and a water balloon fight. The other kids and Maggie had all gone home, leaving she and Mulder to clean up the debris in the yard. William was “helping”, but so far seemed more interested in trying to con one of them into giving him more cake. She'd been telling him no and stooping to collect pieces of popped water balloon from the ground when she heard Mulder come up behind her. “Where did you even find that?” she asked, gulping as she realized the object in his hands was a water balloon, still filled and threatening to burst.

“Oh, around,” Mulder replied with a shrug.""

AU-- William spends his birthday spamming Toy Story and throwing water balloons (that's a sport, right?)

Enough For Now

""Did I ever tell you guys that back in Wyoming I was on the basketball team? I even got the ball in the net from the middle of the court facing the opposite direction,” he said, walking backwards towards the booth. He cocked his head and pointed in Mulder’s direction. “You wanna play?”

In reality, shooting a ball through a tiny hoop on a wall wasn’t much like the actual game of basketball, but Scully leaned her hip against the booth and smiled, watching in amusement as William and Mulder raced to get more balls through the hoops as a timer slowly counted down.""

Part of a great AU series post My Struggle II(?): William and his (new) parents bond over basketball and other family-building activities.

@jewish-mulder/@anders-hawke/@iwtbscully/BananaChef‘s

The In-Between - Chapter 12

""Good one, Dad,” William calls with a grin, tossing the ball back to his mother. “I thought you were the baseball champion of the house.”

“Oh, come on now, don’t gang up on me.” He lifts the bat and Scully whips the ball at him again. It’s a repeat of the first time.

She goes easy on him the third time, allowing him to get a good bat out of it.""

AU-- Mulder, Scully, and William have a baseball game in the tall grass growing wild all over the Unremarkable House.

Maidenjedi’s All That Once Was Good

""And yes, it was, for both of them. William hit the ball for awhile, Mulder throwing him rather weak, easy pitches so there could be home runs and the elation, the catharsis that goes with them. Mulder knew why William came out here, after all, even if they never talked about it, never said a word about it out loud.

Mulder felt a bit spooked, though, after awhile. William hit a particularly long ball, what would have been a triple had there been a game going on a real field. And he shouted and threw the bat, ran imaginary bases in celebration. He had every reason - but Mulder heard his own voice in that shout, and felt his own reasons for this long-lost escapism flood his heart. Samantha may be dead, but it didn't matter. She haunted him as often as she could, danced in his thoughts and made him long for a reason to search for her still.

He decided it was his turn at the bat.

William took up the pitcher's post with ease. He tossed the ball in his hand, behind his back, expertly searching for the seams so he could line up his fingers exactly. Mulder laughed at him from the plate; what's taking you so long, meat? William smirked and wiped the sweat from his brow with his forearm.""

AU-- Will is re-adopted after his parents died in a fire. Mulder establishes a mutual bond over baseball, astonished that this wonderful boy is his son. (Love this.)

@all-these-ghosts/all_these_ghosts's the son you always had (iv)

""... In real life Will likes the Nats best, but for one weekend a year, he’ll be a Yankees fan for his dad.

His dad, who is practically glowing with excitement. Once a year, they take the train up to New York, stay in a hotel, and see at least one Yankees game. The first year they went the Yankees went on to win the World Series, so now it’s good luck to keep the tradition. Of course, the Yankees haven’t won since, but every year Will’s dad believes.

For his part, Will is mostly excited to be out of school. He likes playing baseball - and he’s actually really good, thanks to all the afternoons spent playing with his dad - but he really likes playing parent-sanctioned hooky.""

AU-- The Mulder family enjoy a baseball game; but their happy mood dips after Will overhears their fears for him and Colonization.

@aloysiavirgata (Ao3, WBM, Gossamer, LJ, Alt. LJ)

By Falling In and In

""He comes closer and sits down next to her, his rolled-up sleeve brushing her bare, brown arm. "Dr. Livingstone, I presume?" His worn shirt is soft as flannel, and his long legs appear even longer in the frayed khaki shorts.

"Hey. Where's William? I wanted to show him how to fix the flange on the sink."

Mulder works his toes into the warm sand. "He has no time for plumbing. Jesse finally got the projector working again, so Will and Lusiani went to a movie. Though the pickings are slim. Tonight it's either Little Shop of Horrors or the second Austin Powers."

"Better than the solid month of Star Wars prequels. I noticed Lusiani had been hanging around quite a bit lately. She and William have been playing H-O-R-S-E a lot since you got the basketball hoop back up.""

AU-- Mulder, William, and Scully have a happy life together, trying to balance normalcy with Will's powers and the impending end of the world. Sports is in there, somewhere.

a father’s day ficlet/A Pretty Good Investigator

""Luke brightened. “Did you go to Georgetown?”

“Nah. But the Wizards are a joke, so Georgetown was the next best thing. You a basketball fan?”

“I played in high school,” Luke said. “Point guard, varsity.” He blushed. “Not that there was much competition. I grew up in a really small town. It’s not like I’m gonna play here.”

“That’s great.” Mr. Mulder was smiling now, and it was weird - it transformed his entire face. For some reason it bothered Luke.

“My dad said I had to play a sport, and I’m tall, so,” he said shortly, making sure to emphasize the my dad part.

The smile faded. Good, Luke thought.""

AU-- Revival Will (called Luke) tracks his biological mother down for a "research project", astonishing Scully and actively forging a bond. He slowly strikes up a bond with Mulder, finally inviting him out to see one of his bball games.

Mentions

@greekowl87’s (Ao3) Fic: Day of the Dead

""He was just a big ball of orange polyester fluff. He could roll away if he really wanted to. Of course, he was too young.”

“He might as well have been a basketball. A slam dunk into my heart. Just like his mother.""

On the Run Scully and Mulder observe Mexico's Day of the Dead. She tells him about William's first Halloween; and the two address some of their pain in this sad but beautiful story.

@baronessblixen's (Ao3) Our Son Loves Baseball

""He smiles against his will, thinking of their son. He is out there now doing his own thing, going his own way. Mulder wishes they could be by his side, guide him. It is not meant to be. Not now, anyway. He gets up to use the bathroom. On his way back to the bed he sees something stick out of his pocket: a picture. Mulder picks it up, swallows hard. It’s one of the photographs Scully found earlier. The ones he didn’t dare look at, then. Now he can’t tear his eyes away. There’s William, around eight or nine years old, grinning into the camera. His hands around a baseball bat, his stubborn hair hidden under a cap. The picture before him blurs as tears cloud his vision. One falls down right on the little boy. Mulder wipes it away carefully, afraid that the moment, although frozen in time for forever, might disappear.""

Revival Scully draws closer to Mulder, giving him the baseball photo of Will and deriving comfort from their mutual bittersweet feelings.

@sportsnightnut's (Ao3) she has good taste in dinner options

""He comes around the desk and rests his hand on her belly, and his expression changes immediately. Moments ago, he looked focused, intense. Now, he is practically beaming as he feels her kicking against the palm of his hand. “Our daughter has good taste in dinner options.”

Scully nods. “She would like lots of sour cream, too. And cheese. The full-fat kind.”

“Do you think she’d also like to watch some basketball tonight?” Mulder asks, picking up an umbrella as they approach the door.""

Post Revival Scully gets lost in thoughts while waiting for Mulder to wrap up his work day, marveling at his focus and devotion.

I'm missing my dad a lot right now

""Though her eyes are still open, Caroline yawns.

“I can’t be boring you already, can I? Nah. You don’t even know what boredom is yet. I’ll just keep talking. Here’s the second thing you need to know: in this family, we are Yankees fans. The Red Sox are scum. You are so lucky that you were born a fan of the best team in major league baseball.""

Post Revival Mulder scoops up his newborn daughter, chatting to her about everything and anything. But mostly about his love.

@melforbes/@claup/everydaymsr (Ao3, WBM) hesitation

""though they have a television, the only time it’s ever on is during baseball games, and even then, it simply plays in the background while they go about doing other things. in the kitchen, he keeps basic cookbooks, and recently, he’s been trying to learn recipes, to fry and sauté and simmer in ways he’s never managed to master. hand-stitched curtains, a gift from her mother, billow against a breeze in the living room, and light through glass casts a rainbow along the hardwood floor; the couch is plush and so comfortable that he’s watched scully fall asleep on it more times than he can count....

though he wants to call out in search of her, he stays quiet, leaves the paper on the kitchen table, heads upstairs to see if will’s asleep.""

AU-- Mulder contemplates his new family's "starting over" house, slowly easing himself into domesticity and out of anxiety while on a morning coffee run. (Such a soft, peaceful atmosphere. Beautiful.)

@xfiles-behind-the-scenes/YouMadeMeAWholePerson's

Watching the Paint Dry

""Scully checked the time as she finished blow-drying her hair, and quickly headed into the kitchen to tell Mulder he could leave for his basketball game. She found him and Will sitting and staring at something on the table. It was unusual for their three year old to be so still, so she approached them cautiously.

“What’s going on?” she asked, coming up behind Mulder and putting a hand on his shoulder.

“We’re watching the paint dry.""

AU-- Will wants to watch paint dry in their new house; and Mulder skips his game to spend time with his little tyke.

@we-mad-guys's forgetting the future

""After a short stare down, Mrs. Scully shrugs. “Well, thank you for taking care of him. I had a doctor’s appointment yesterday.”

“It was our pleasure,” Frohike says. “We love the little guy.”

That afternoon and evening, the Scully family and their close friends have to cajole the boy into having a good time. They manage to get him to swim in the kid’s pool, bribe him with sweets, get him into a game of basketball. It all works, for a few minutes. But as soon as an activity’s ended, he’s gone right back into his funk.""

AU-- Skinner, TLG, and the Scully family fill in the blanks for little lonesome Will when his parents have to take extended trips to try to save the world. They join him in time for the 4th; but happiness will always be tempered with sacrifices. (LOVE this.)

all things bright and beautiful

""Scully laughs. “Mulder, I can see the wheels turning in your head. How about you open it? It might be easier to find out what it is that way.”

“You’re no fun,” he pouts, and she nudges him with her shoulder.

Mulder tears the paper off and crumples it into a ball so it doesn’t blow away, and lifts the lid off of the small white box. He stares down at what’s inside.

The tiniest baseball jersey he’s ever seen.""

AU-- IWTB? era Scully surprises Mulder with a pregnancy announcement. Each season gracefully turns while their baby grows. (Love this so much.)

@o6666666's (Ao3) Untitled — 20

""The Earth will burn. After, they will come up from underground.

Will wiggles around until he’s comfortable. “Can you do the story where Mommy hits a baseball all the way into the sky?""

AU-- Will and his parents bunker down during Colonization; and he falls asleep to Mulder telling him about Scully's baseball date.

@scullyphile's (Ao3) Unnamed

""Their son towered over them. He looked very much like Mulder, tall with his father’s distinguished profile. He did, however, have Scully’s red hair and freckles. He looked like he could play basketball, and for a moment Mulder imagined playing basketball with his son. Let’s work on your lay-up, he’d say. Pass me the ball; I’ll show you. The image made him smile. William smiled, too, and Mulder wondered if the boy was hearing his thoughts.

As if in answer, William nodded very slightly and smiled.""

AU-- Monica reunites Mulder and Scully with their son and his parents, ready to forge a healthy dynamic now that he's old enough.

Enjoy!

29 notes · View notes

serensama · 2 months ago

Text

In Sacrifice, Glory: Chapter 4

As always, my thanks and love to @illneverrecover and @femme-moon <3 My sincerest thanks to the insanely talented @ashalle-art who created such a wonderful piece more than 2 years ago for this (yes, I have been meaning to write this story for 2 years, it's been a whole thing). I have another piece she made to accompany this, but will be posted in a later chapter.

Read on Ao3

If Elissa never saw the Hinterlands again, it would be too soon.

Whilst she did love the time she got to spend with her fellow Inquisition members, the Hinterlands served as a reminder of how monumental the task before her was. It never ended. Whenever one problem was fixed, three more popped up- like some bureaucratic hydra.

Upon meeting Mother Giselle and seeing the damage the fighting had done to both sides and everyone caught in between, Elissa could not help but do whatever she could to assist them. They wandered the expanse of the countryside to find randomly stored caches for much needed supplies, helped to hunt different types of game for their pelts and meat to provide for the Mother’s patients and the refugees the Inquisition had already claimed as temporary charges.

Cassandra had tried to impress upon her that time was of the essence; that they should focus on acquiring Master Dennett’s horses so they could then travel to Val Royeaux and address the clerics congregating there like Mother Giselle advised. She was promptly shut down when Elissa had given her a hard, unmoving stare. “If we cannot spare a week to look after these people, to ensure they live well and are not forgotten, is there any point in fixing the sky?”

The Seeker flushed and said no more on the matter.

Still a part of her had wished she listened, if she had perhaps she would not have had to withstand the country for so long, endured all the trials that the cursed land threw at her. From the hostility between the Mages and Templars which spanned across every corner of the land and made each of their endeavours perilous, their team having to fight their way out of their crossfire every other day. To the many, many rifts that littered the sky in between Redcliffe and Haven. A damned dragon and her bastard offspring. Being allergic to a specific type of grass which popped up everywhere in the Hinterlands. And Bears.

Bloody. Fucking. Bloody. Shit. Bears. Bloody. Bears.

She had to believe that there was never a time in her life pre-Conclave that she thought she would be more afraid of bears and tall grass than a High Dragon. And truth be told she wasn’t actually so much afraid of the tall grass but more wary- after all for the first week of their journey she could barely see anything through her itchy eyes, and often risked giving away their location by her sneezes time and again. Thankfully the most foreboding party who happened upon them were heavily armoured Templar deserters who were not expecting a fledgling mage to electrocute them with her fifth consecutive sneeze. Varric had begged Solas to stop their nightly lessons after seeing that.

‘Come on Chuckles think of it, the Herald of Andraste punishing the non-believers with the wrath of her nose. The Chantry’s gonna love it!”

Elissa had no idea what she would have done without Solas by her side. He taught her how to properly call upon her power and harness it into purposeful attacks, and whilst she was still certainly classified as a novice, she could now cast some very powerful spells. “Look Varric! I actually set that mage on fire... and on purpose!”

“That a girl Stormy, now do you mind setting those other mages on fire, on purpose, too?”

The apostate took every opportunity to teach her something, wasting no chance to impart some kind of wisdom to the young mage. When they had confirmed she was in fact allergic to a specific type of grass; he had taken her aside to teach her how to identify Spindleweed and Elfroot and then instructed her how to harvest and store the herbs to create a basic tincture to help fend off her symptoms. He spoke of other plants as he skilfully drew them in the dirt, Prophet's Laurel, Embrium and Arbor Blessing along with many more he promised to point out to her should their travels ever take them to the places where they grew.

He even showed her things she would have never thought about, such as collecting sap from specific trees, boiling them down and adding some jam for a special sweet treat. Alternatively he told her she could add mint to the mixture to make a gummy type of candy that could keep quite well and help ward off hunger when eaten and also freshen one’s breath. Why the apostate hadn’t thought to market this idea to the masses she didn’t know, but she was grateful for something to nibble on as they travelled the long roads.

After each battle he would quickly show her how she could adapt her stances to wield magic more effectively whilst she also fought with her staff, always pleasantly surprised at how quickly she took adding melee aspects into her casting- noting many classically educated mages preferred to stay far from the fight, and just wave their staff at the general vicinity of the enemy as they stood still. “Perhaps you too were an apostate, Da'len, the way you fight- you certainly were not a circle mage,” he had mentioned more than once during their journey.

“Solas, considering how terrible I was before you started teaching me, I’m willing to believe I’ve had no training whatsoever. I am also willing to believe that I was such a shitty mage that no one in any Circle could teach me; so they just let me play in the corner with the leftover sticks they couldn’t use to make the circle’s staves, just hoping I’d accidentally stab myself.”

“Oh that imagination of yours, I hope you never lose it Elissa.”

It was not only Solas who took a strong interest in her tutelage during their time on the road. Cassandra had keenly watched them as the elf trained her in the arcane arts, the Seeker in her unable to sit still when so much magic could be felt in the air around her. As the days turned into weeks she could see the impressive amount of improvement the mage had accomplished; her once unsteady form and mana, now fixed and concentrated.

The older woman promptly acknowledged her aptitude for physical combat and insisted that she also learn how to fight and defend herself should she run out of mana on the field. Elissa was thankful for the lessons but believed it was just a means for the Seeker to relieve herself of pent up tension from spending endless hours with Varric with no sight of escape, and no plausible alibi for ‘accidentally’ murdering him. Unlike Elissa’s training with Solas, melee came to her much more naturally. She was able to read Cassandra’s moves and understood her instructions more readily as if she was merely rehashing a lesson already learned, or rearranging something within her mind- instead of building everything up from scratch like she had to when it came to magic.

“One would think you have been trained in combat before, Herald,” Cassandra said as she twisted her wrist, her long sword cutting the air beside her in figure eights.

“Maybe I have,” Elissa replied, shrugging as her eyes continued to follow the sword’s path. “The only things I’ve managed to remember in the last two weeks, even with Solas helping me, is I have always loathed insects and the fact that I have eaten at the Spoiled Princess inn at the Lake Calenhad docks. I staunchly advise that no one ever eats there, or even in the near vicinity of it, ever again.”

“Ahh not to worry Stormy, you got your old buddy Varric here to help figure things out,” the archer said from the sidelines, causing Cassandra to snort ungracefully. “Do not believe the little imp Herald,” she warned as she tried to feign a shield bash to catch Elissa off guard. “His offer for assistance is merely a mask, a ruse to get any information out of you so he can write it into his next novel.”

“Whaaat? I am here only ever to serve the Inquisition and the Herald of Andraste,” he bowed as he remained seated, earning him a raised middle finger from Elissa. “Look if I can help you and you can help me, isn’t that the very essence of teamwork? True collaboration?” he queried with what he hoped was a trustworthy expression.

Cassandra managed to knock over her pupil and sat back down on a tree stump, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. Elissa groaned and eased herself to her side as she lay limply on the ground, trying her best to not throw up one of her lungs. “So... true collaboration huh?” she quoted, one eyebrow raised at the dwarf. He asserted his agreement once more and Elissa stood up with her hand held out to him to shake on it. “So this means we split the profits equally then?”

Varric chuckled and pulled his hand back, laughing harder when Cassandra pointed at him with a great resounding “AHA!”, Solas grinning as he looked between them all.

“Ah shit Stormy, I am but a simple author-” “You are very well off you conniving little-” “...I am living between the royalties of my books at the moment you see, Herald...” “Master Tethras, did you not say before we met Elissa in the valley that you owned the largest rooms in the best tavern in Kirkwall?”

“-and with me being sequestered away in Ferelden, held against my will and unable to work-” “I wish you would leave already but you will not go until I find out where Hawke is-” “-in fact you told me you had ties within the Carta, the merchants guilds and even the nobility in the Free Marches. You offered me safe harbour with you if things turned sideways here for mages, particularly apostates-”

“The point is Stormy,” he ground out, casting sidelong glances at both Solas and Cassandra who were still talking amongst themselves, one sentence short from seemingly pulling out his personal ledgers and telling the entire Hinterlands his exact net worth down to the last copper. “I am here for you, story or no story. Are you happy now you animals?” he chided, with a large grin pulling at his mouth.

And true to his word, Varric was not left behind by his comrades in his assistance to the newest addition to the Inquisition; he spent the days and nights trying to fill in the last few years that their mysterious new friend was missing. He was more than delighted to know that she had no idea about his escapades with Hawke and their Kirkwall crew, much to Cassandra’s chagrin. He spent countless hours detailing their adventures from the day he met the Hawke siblings up until his fateful encounter with the Seeker and Spymaster.

“... And then Choir Boy made Hawke choose whether to end Blondie’s life, or risk the fury of the man on his way to reclaiming his throne...” Varric said sadly from across the fire one night, when Elissa had asked the fates of his friends back home.

“Oh my goodness, did she do it?” Elissa asked, both hands cradling her chin as she listened to the dwarf, both Solas and Cassandra listening intently from their bedrolls.

Varric smiled mirthlessly and looked into her eyes, unable to continue. The young woman gasped and covered her mouth with her hands, large eyes misting up with what he was silently implying. “No!” she breathed, shaking her head from side to side. “No, she couldn’t have! Anders was her friend from the very first! It would have been like... like killing you!”

“Yes but Stormy, his actions caused the deaths of so many people, murdered the Grand Cleric Elthina-” “But he had saved so many people and he was pushed right to the edge of reason! I could never condone his actions, but wouldn’t it have been better to have made him atone for his sins? Made him right his wrongs?” she asked, unable to fathom having to choose whether someone you loved lived or died. “Death is so final, with his gifts he could have done so much more good.” “I do not believe the Champion killed him either, Varric,” Cassandra said as she polished her breastplate, dark eyes focused on the storyteller. “By all accounts they could not find the Grey Warden’s body and some even said that he was seen sneaking aboard a ship... heading to Rivain.”

Varric shrugged and rubbed his hands together as he warmed himself against the fire, firmly avoiding his gaze from Cassandra, a self-satisfied grin playing across his stubbled face as he heard her scoff. “I guess you will believe whatever it is you want to believe, Seeker. All I can tell you, is that was the day Marian Hawke’s heart broke for the last time- Anders was gone and she despised Sebastian for making her choose,” he replied before excusing himself and retiring for the evening.

Elissa had quickly followed him to bed after she bid everyone a good night to think over the sorrowful tale of the Champion of Kirkwall. She faced such impossible odds, experienced such tragedy but still she had managed to hold everything together. It gave her a perverse sense of hope, if Hawke could do that with the limited resources her and her ragtag adopted family had- surely she and the Inquisition had to have similar odds. She was almost able to fall asleep when one final intrusive thought managed to wheedle itself into the forefront of her mind, if you had to kill one of your friends now to keep the peace... could you do it?

If she was lucky, the Breach would kill her before she had to make that choice.

---

The wooden barricade around the settlement at Haven was a welcome sight to the four weary travellers. After almost a month and a half away, Elissa wanted nothing more than to kiss the guard who opened the gates to them and then run into the tavern and promise to bear the children of the first person who got her a slice of freshly baked bread with lashings of butter. She wondered if she was previously living like a nomad and if she actually enjoyed it- as it was she was ready to offer her soul just to be able to sleep in a bed and have baths without the threat of fish staring up at her lady bits at any given time.

Her friends must have felt the same as their steps picked up as soon as they entered the encampment, only pausing briefly when they realised she had stopped to take a cutting of an Elfroot plant that she had hoped to practise with, earning her a proud smile from her elven tutor. They all said their temporary farewells as they all spread out to settle back into their camp routine, all excited to take some time for themselves before the next journey was upon them.

Elissa held the freshly cut plant in her hands as she took the path back to the main camp at a leisurely pace, enjoying the clean air only the mountains could offer, relieved to be completely free of the sputum inducing flora of her recent travels. She had passed the armoury and said hello to the smithy workers and was pleased to see the first lot of horses that Master Dennett must have sent ahead of him and the rest of the herd. She pet the closest one to her recognising it as the horse Master Dennett had kindly offered to give her during her time in the Hinterlands, but she found it embarrassing if she was the only one to be able to ride whilst her companions remained on foot. Elissa admired its rich chocolate coat, not aware that the sneaky thing had nipped at her newly acquired plant and had chewed on half of it. “You little sneak! You seemed so sweet and unassuming- you just wanted my elfroot! You absolute charlatan!” she chided her as softly tapped it on its muzzle with her finger before nuzzling it playfully. “Charlotte, that will be your name! To remind me of your sneaky ways!”

The stablehand chuckled at her and agreed with her assessment. He told Elissa that if one didn’t keep their wits about them around this mare, she would charm them and then steal the shirt off their back and think it a snack. Literally. Grinning as she tucked away the half eaten plant inside her pack, she gave the horse one last rub down before turning around towards the main camp entrance.

Elissa hadn’t noticed it before, but the clang of swords on shields was far more boisterous than when she had left. She let her eyes drift over the army and even without taking a proper headcount, she could see a large increase in their numbers. All of them as green as the gash in the sky, but their good intentions were evident. She found herself instantly drawn to the sparring soldiers, a visceral need to be in the thick of it all with the people fighting on their side. Most of the men at arms jumped out of the way when they noticed her, doing their utmost to not hurt their Herald of Andraste with their clumsy movements. Elissa had spied Cassandra speaking to a Templar across the field but it was a flash of red from the corner of eye that caught her attention and urged most of the rational thoughts from her mind.

Oh Blessed be the Maker- had the Commander always been that handsome? She specifically remembered him being attractive the last time she saw him but had he always been that bloody gorgeous? She couldn’t remember any of her previous attachments prior to waking up in Haven, but she certainly hoped they all looked like him. Tall and strong with classically chiselled features, the wonderful spattering of stubble across his cheeks and jaw... good gracious she was probably drooling. Elissa mentally slapped herself for staring at him like he was a piece of meat for her to devour, it was positively shameful! She just chalked it up to her seeing him in a different setting. Normally she would be standing across from him at the map room table instead of the scene that played out before her today; him amidst a field of soldiers, exuding a different aura from what she was already accustomed to. He was always polite, reserved and measured and now that part of his character was juxtaposed beautifully against this other Cullen- a man who could easily be the decorated General for the King’s forces. She knew she would have followed him with the blind faith that he was leading her to victory.

He had walked out further into the training yard with his head bent as he reviewed a missive and handed it back to a scout. He stopped beside one of the soldiers overlooking the training and was quick to point out where one young recruit wasn’t adhering to the exercise.

“You there! There’s a shield in your hand, block with it. If this man were your enemy you’d be dead,” he barked out startling the man into doing what he was told. Cullen addressed the lieutenant to continue on the drills and to not let anyone take it easy on each other, no enemy would show them mercy and so they should be prepared accordingly, or why bother training them at all? It would be far more efficient just to shepherd them towards the enemy and let them be massacred.

Elissa had not realised she was standing there just observing the Commander from just outside of his periphery and cursed herself, there was no way she hadn’t been seen ogling at the man and she just wished her mark would open up and swallow her whole. She could start to feel her heartbeat speed up at the thought of Varric or Solas hearing about this and teasing her mercilessly. She could envision it so clearly, the trek to Val Royeaux would be just them incessantly teasing her about her very one sided crush- no- attraction to their Commander.

Regaining her senses she took a step backwards hoping to make a speedy retreat before the man realised she was staring at him, only to have him glance backwards in her direction, doing a double take at the sight of her. If she was truly Andraste’s blessed miracle child, perhaps Cullen would think she was merely coming toward him instead of retreating like the little coward she truly was.

“Welcome back, apologies I didn’t realise that you and the team were already back from the Hinterlands,” he greeted her kindly. At the sight of his wonderful honey toned eyes focusing on her, she found she couldn’t speak. She had to scoff at Leliana. Her? Push boundaries? Flirt with some noble in a Chantry? The woman was mad. Cullen took her silence in stride and nodded towards the field of tents, more than doubled than when she had left. “We’ve received a number of recruits – locals from Haven and some pilgrims. None made quite the entrance you did,” he ribbed her gently, his soft smile pulling at the scar on his lip and somehow making him look even more dashing than before. It shouldn't have been allowed. Somewhere in Thedas, this was illegal, she just knew it.

“At least I got everyone’s attention,” she replied with a little more sass than she had expected. “It seemed it worked, look at everyone here come to see the woman with the season’s most exclusive new fashion trend,” she joked, holding up her left hand with the mark peeking through the dark leather of her gloves.

The Commander chuckled and shook his head, trying to preserve a stalwart demeanour around his recruits; the last thing he needed was for people to think he was some besotted school boy mooning over the woman who was on her way to being exalted as the second coming of Andraste (by the people- Maker not the Chantry, never the Chantry).

No matter how lovely he thought she was.

“And how about you Commander, how did you find yourself leading the Inquisition’s forces? Was it the Breach that called you here or was it another reason?” she queried, tilting her head to the side like a curious child, or perhaps like a woman tempting someone to notice the smooth expanse of her cheek and neck.

“I was recruited to the Inquisition in Kirkwall, myself. I was there during the mage uprising – I saw firsthand the devastation it caused. Cassandra sought a solution so when she offered me a position, I left the templars to join her cause. Now it seems we face something far worse,” he shared as he let his head fall back to look up at the Breach.

Elissa tried to picture him in between the warring factions, tried to reconcile the idea of him being at Kirkwall with Varric and Hawke, the three of them caught in between the brutal battle. She could only imagine how torn he must have felt during those days; did he continue to side with the Templars or protect the mages. It must have felt impossible then. She could only venture to think how he must have felt standing there with her against even greater odds.

“You’re right, everything is a mess but... I do believe that this mark will help, it just has to,” she stressed, closing her left fist to enclose the glow within her grasp.

“Provided that we can secure aid- but I’m confident we can especially with the reports that have been coming in from our camps in the Hinterlands. You’ve managed to accomplish quite a lot out there in a short time Herald,” he complimented her, genuinely impressed with what she was able to do and the lengths she went to to assist both the people and the Inquisition.

“Oh you’re a sweet talker, perhaps we should send you out there instead of me, Commander,” she teased, her tone causing him to pause. No, that was just him hearing things, surely. He cleared his throat and tightened his arms around himself to get a physical grip on himself. Perhaps he’d been out in the cold for too long and his ears were playing tricks on him.

“I would think me heading out there would cost us any potential aid, and possibly any we have previously secured.” “You’re selling yourself far too short, Commander,” Elissa reproved him, lightly knocking into him with her shoulder. He glanced down at her as he was gently pushed back and fought not to do the same back to her; she was only in light armour, he'd most likely push the mage into the snow and face admonishment for quite literally rough housing with the Herald of Andraste.

“You’ve helped to build the Inquisition into what it is today, do not discount your efforts Ser.”

Cullen puffed out his breath at the mention of Ser, it had been years since anyone had called him that. And many more since it was anything at all positive.

“The Chantry lost control of both templars and mages,” he started, his mind focused on past failures, mostly his own. “And now? They argue over a new Divine while the Breach remains. The Inquisition could act when the Chantry cannot and our followers would be a part of that. There’s so much we can-” Cullen cut himself off, embarrassed that he was about to diatribe in front of the Herald. “Forgive me, you have just arrived and I doubt that you came here for a lecture.”

Elissa self-consciously smoothed down her braid, suddenly very aware that she probably looked and smelled of the road, but she didn’t want him to think that he was burdening her by opening up to her.

“No but I’ve learned that I am quite the student, so if you do have one prepared I would love to hear it,” she returned with a noticeable breathiness that he definitely did not invent. He was left completely taken aback and could only stammer unintelligently and coughed into his hand.

Meanwhile, Elissa wanted to die.

She didn’t just push boundaries, she eradicated them entirely.

Flirt with Teagan in the Chantry? She was thoroughly surprised Leliana didn't say she just jumped on the poor Bann and rode him into the ground right in front of the Revered Mother.

Cullen cleared his throat again unsure of how to respond or truly if he should respond; she was the Herald and he would never deem to think he’d be someone she would be interested in, even if she had meant it to sound that way. He saw a soldier approaching him with what looked like to be a large dispatch for him to review and thanked the Maker he had a reason to gracefully exit and not make himself look even more foolish.

“There’s still a lot of work ahead and I will not keep you from getting some much needed rest before you’re duty bound to do more.” “Commander! Ser Rylen has a report on our supply lines,” the soldier advised, passing the report to him before saluting to them both. “As I was saying,” Cullen retorted as he offered her a wry grin and held up the new mountain of work just given to him. He bowed ever so slightly and excused himself to leave Elissa watching after him, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip.

She looked back down at her hand and unfurled her fingers, the green seeping through once more and cursed under her breath. “Really, the one time I want you to kill me you just sit there and let me run my wanton mouth- what use are you?”

—

Cullen could feel her eyes follow him away and did his utmost not to turn around, petrified if he did he’d look back and turn a magnificent shade of scarlet. He was just grateful Rylen wasn’t there to give him the report in person otherwise his friend would be absolutely relentless. The idea of the Herald of Andraste potentially flirting- with him- was more than he could understand. It seemed much more likely that she was being nice and he was reading far too much into nothing.

Still… he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that he had seen that look on her face before, though he couldn’t understand how. He’d only seen her a handful of times before her departure for the Hinterlands and there was never any time that he had seen her blush like that or the way her eyes seemed completely focused on him as if he were the moon and the stars. Looking at him as if the moon and the stars were good enough to eat.

The Commander signed off on another report when he caught one of the templars leaning over one of the new recruits, a young woman, pretty enough to catch more than one lad’s eye that was for sure. The templar leaned in closer and whispered something into the girl’s ear which had her giggle and slap him on the shoulder playfully. And just like that, he remembered where he had seen that look on the Herald of Andraste’s face before.

On the second floor of the circle tower, at Kinloch Hold.

The small group who had come to save them had decided to stay a couple of days to properly recoup and regroup after the fight with Uldred and the other abominations. Understandable and considering what they had done for them, the very least they could do. The First Enchanter and Knight Commander Greagoir had even cleaned up one of the nicer rooms to ensure their guests were comfortable during their stay.

He was still so angry then, he could only remember how furious he was at her for potentially letting out such a threat to the world. So when he was completing his duties by patrolling the third floor and he came across a couple in the corner of the deserted hallway, he saw red. Was it blood magic at work again? Was it some sick ritual they were performing in the dead of the night to finish them off?

No. It was just the Grey Wardens in a private moment, standing outside of their company’s communal rooms to have an intimate conversation. He had barely paid them any mind, too busy cursing at her to pay too much attention- and yet-

As he walked up to them he knew that neither of them would even realise that he was there. Cullen could see that Alistair had his left arm propped up against the stone wall and leaned forward as far as he could without his armour crushing into hers. His free hand held her jaw as his thumb stroked her cheek, gently moving her head from side to side as he closely examined her to ensure they didn’t miss any untreated wounds. The way she stared up at him and only him as if nothing else in the world could matter more than the man before her… her expression of adoration blended with her hunger for more… Maker’s breath.

Could she really be the same Elissa?

No. No, of course not. He was being ridiculous. He was just reading too much into nothing again. He had to be.

Chapter 5

#dragonage #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dragon age origins #cullen x inquisitor #alistair x warden #alistair x warden x cullen #alistair x inquisitor x cullen #dragon age 2 #dragon age fanfic #cullen x warden #alistair x inquisitor

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heytheredeann · 1 year ago

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20 questions for fic writers

I was tagged by @cha-melodius, thank you! <3<3

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

439! The plan is posting two more tonight so hopefull that will soon be 441 LOL.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

939,623! Almost a million yay!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

At the moment mostly TMFU, I have been getting into writing Banana Fish fic too, and I write for The Witcher, though less frequently than TMFU.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Stretch (Buck/Eddie+Christopher, 911, 3x02 AU)

Everywhere I'm looking now, I'm surrounded by your embrace (Harvey/Mike, Suits, soulmates AU)

I held your hand as you shook in the middle of the night (Geralt/Jaskier, The Witcher, 1x06 fix-it)

Leave it unspoken (Harvey/Mike, Suits, a serial killer on the loose AU looool I had forgotten about this one)

Concession (Geralt/Jaskier, The Witcher, Geralt likes being the little spoon fic)

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

Yesssss, I'm like constantly behind and sometimes I answer months late, but I love answering because 1) comments make me so happy and I want the readers who took the time to let me know they enjoyed the fic to KNOW THAT, 2) talking about fics is SO much fun, I think that discussing things in the comments is the best part of posting.

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

LOOOOOOOOOOOL filter for MCD on my Ao3 and take your pick. But I'd go with either Forever is the sweetest con (Napoleon/Illya/Gaby, TMFU) because the story is told backwards, so you start with post-MCD and end pre-MCD, so the ending is happy but. well. the happiness is gone already and you know it LOL, or maybe Meaner than my demons, colder than this home (Napoleon/Illya/Gaby, TMFU), purely because generally speaking when I play with MCD I kill just one of them off and leave the other two to pick up the pieces, but here there's just Napoleon left, so. probably worse than the others LOL.

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

Sooo, I tend to write one-shots, and I HAVE written fluffy fics, but I think I'll go with Something gets lost from a safe distance (Napoleon/Illya, TMFU) because it's part of a three-part series that's all emotional hurt/comfort, and then it ends with fluffy kissing so.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Eh, it has happened, I think it's inevitable if you have been doing this for long enough LOL.

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

Nope.

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

Not usually, I did write a TMFU/Supernatural crossover though LOL.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I’m aware of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yesss, more than once and it's always extremely flattering that someone would want to go through all that effort <3

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

Nope.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Right now I feel particularly strongly about the TMFU OT3 but like. I love so many.

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

I HAVE MULTIPLE LONGFICS SITTING IN MY DRAFTS DAMMIT. I just never want to post longfics unless I have either a first draft for every chapter or at the very least an extremely detailed outline for every chapter, which means that I end up always posting one-shots LOL. Two notable mentions among these longfics are a "Napoleon gets amnesia and bullshits his way through it to avoid telling anyone because he has trust issues" fic and an AU with Illya as a ghost that's a whole angsty mess. help me.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Eeeeeeeh the emotions I'd say. Or I HOPE so, since that's pretty much 80% of my writing loooool Also there a lot of lines of dialogue that I come up with that I unironically like.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Plots for one, I just tend to write snapshots with no real plot most of the time, and action. I don't LIKE writing it, which means I can never tell if it's boring or if I'm just projecting, and I tend to avoid it. ...also romance/attraction/getting-together. My aroace ass never knows what is believable romance and what are just tv show tropes that are not actually real LOL.

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

I generally don't do it and keep to the language of the narration, just clarifying "X says in German" if there's a change of language. I write limited third POV, so I just see it as "filtering" everything through the lens of the person that we are seeing the perspective of. If I'm writing from Gaby's POV, for instance (she's German but fluent in English), I feel like TECHNICALLY the narration should be in German, so by writing in English I have already chosen a filter that is not 100% accurate. But that's the filter I'm going with, so English is the language that Gaby is communicating to the reader in, so everything should be communicated through English lens: if she's talking to someone in English, I will just write the lines with no specifications, if she's talking in German I still write in English and write "in German" in the narration, and if someone speaks a language she doesn't know I don't write the actual dialogue because she doesn't understand it, so the reader doesn't get to see it either.

I hope this makes some sort of sense LOOOOOL, I don't really mind any way I've seen this done, but this is how I prefer to go about it.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

The Fallen book series. LOL.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Evil question, go directly to jail, do not collect 100$. This answer will absolutely change every five minutes, but right now I'm particularly feeling Souvenir from a life left behind (Napoleon/Illya, TMFU), just a tiny dissolution of UNCLE fic with Napoleon angsting.

Tagging: @imgoingtofreakoutnow @ikeepwatchinghelicopters @thetamehistorian @huggiebird @deducitetemporacarmen @set-phasers-to-whump @cherryjuicegf @geralt-of-vengerberg and anyone else who hasn't done this yet and wants to play <3

#i had so much fun with this sdfghjkl #ely has shit to say #not spn #tag game #cha-melodius

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aka-tua-braindump · 5 months ago

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Fanfiction Masterpost

Hi everyone!

I've FINALLY decided to do a big master post of all the fics I've written and the fandoms they are in. Not all of them are posted on tumblr, but I will link them directly in ao3.

Feel free to drop me any ideas or requests. No promises, but I'll let you know if I write it!

If you just want to view all my works on ao3, you can do so HERE.

FALLOUT Fanfiction:

Thou Shall Get Sidetracked by Bullshit Every Time (Even in a Vault) (WIP)

(aka TSGSTBBET(EIAV) lol)

Norm x Reader (Canon-ish AU)

Updated: June 27 2024, Chapter 6

This story follows Reader and Norm through the events of the Fallout TV show. Mostly Canon Compliant, aside from the insertion of Reader character.

The Umbrella Academy Fanfiction:

(most of these are also posted on my TUA sideblog, @tua-braindump)

As I have written quite a few, I will feature what I think are the best ones here! A full list of my TUA fics can be found HERE.

It's Always Fun at Weddings and Parties (One Shot)

AgedUp!FivexReader, Platonic! KlausxReader

Inspired by Prompt #937 (5+1 Things) from @creativepromptsforwriting on Tumblr.

5 times people thought Person A and Person B are dating and 1 time they find out it's actually Person A and Person C.

I Am Not A Child (Even If I May Look Like One) (One Shot)

Gen Fic

Inspired by an exchange with @fiveapocalypse here on tumblr!

After the events of S1, the apocalypse is averted. The Hargreeves are a family again. What else says family outing like a trip to the aquarium?

Today, I did not choose violence (One Shot)

pre-AgedUp!FivexReader (no established romantic relationship)

Part of a series that is inspired by my head-canon, but can be read as a stand alone fic.

Reader goes to the club with Klaus and his siblings to get over her painful breakup. She gets approached by a pushy stranger at the bar, who won't take no for an answer. An unlikely hero comes to her rescue.

These Bright Baubles Light Up My Heart (One Shot)

Gen Fic (implied FivexReader)

Part of the same head-canon as above, but can be read as a stand alone fic.

Reader has been living at the academy for a while and chances upon a Hargreeves Christmas tradition.

(This one didn't get much traction but is a personal fave)

Last but not least,

TUA Build-a-Bear

Okay, this isn't a fic, but it was my most unhinged series on Tumblr, thanks to two other TUA fans who had a conversation about regressed Five having a Build-a-Bear set of his siblings. So obviously, I had to photoshop images of them. Also Bonus! Bad drawing my me of Five dragging them along in a lil' cart.

Supernatural Fanfiction:

Not This Soon (One Shot)

Castiel x Dean Winchester

S15E20 Fix-It for abstractthinking's ask for the tumblr Destiel V-day Exchange 2024.

Cas gets upset that Dean is already dying and does something about it, much to Jack's chagrin.

The End, but Different (One Shot)

Castiel x Dean Winchester

When Dean dies in the final vamp hunt, he goes to heaven, where all his friends and family are waiting to have a party. But where's Cas?

Misunderstandings (One Shot)

Crowley x OC

Sam and Dean rescue someone from Crowley. Instead of being grateful, she's angry.

And if you're crazy enough you can read all my OLD TERRIBLE fanfics on FF.net HERE.

#aka-tua-braindump #tua-braindump #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction masterlist #fanfic masterlist #TUA fanfic #Fallout fanfic #SPN fanfic #and more!

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maleficore · 1 year ago

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Saw someone else do it and I think I've done this before too, but the list has grown since then a bit so here's my current lineup of read dead wips that I'm working on!! :D Minus the stuff that's already posted on AO3 cuz I see no point in doing a synopsis for things that have left my google drive and you can go and read ahah.

Turned out loooooong so lookie under the cut if you're interested in knowing what I'm up to.

Morston Soulmate AU (title tba, multichapter, around 20-30k when finished) - An AU where you can feel all the injuries your soulmate gets, both minor and major ones. There's no soul marks, seeing your soulmate get hurt and connecting the dots is the only way to find out. Has a lot of time skips and focuses more on feelings than events, but starts out pre-canon when John almost gets lynched and works its way towards the end of the canon story. Chapters alternate between Arthur's and John's POV. Canon compliant :)

RDR2 "Modern AU" (title tba, multichapter, long as shit) - I only call it a modern AU for the sake of simplicity... I'm not sure if it counts as one. Set in 1999 and focuses on the case of Arthur Matthews -- a 36 year old adoptive son of the infamous criminal defence lawyer Hosea Matthews, who went missing without a trace for six months and then reappeared miles from his hometown, seemingly unharmed, but also... not quite right. Delusional, confused, suffering from some sort of memory impairment. The story is about Arthur struggling to adapt to being back home in a reality that is apparently foreign to him. Outsider's/John's POV, but not really shippy. It can be read as pre-slash, though.

My Self-Indulgent Jesse/Arthur fic (another title tba lol, it's too early to tell but I'm thinking multichapter? A collection of scenes from 1878 to 1899) - This one is for me and me only, though I will eventually post it 😂 Written in second person, like a reader-insert and can be read as one if someone wants to, but I am including Jesse's backstory and feelings that are way too specific to be immersive for anyone but myself... I'm working real hard to write it in a way that portrays growing up queer in that time somewhat realistically, so it's not always pretty, but I do try to keep it not that depressing. Features: Jesse's early-life backstory, the story of the scar, his first Gay Experience, how his brothers died, the ups and downs of his relationship with Arthur, why they eventually broke up for what felt like last time, how he got arrested (altered RDO storyline bit) and how he got back up with the gang. I'm planning to do a rough rewrite/fix-it of the canon story with him in it too, but that's... an "one day" thing ajsddjfk

Morston Omegaverse (title tba, one shot, around 10-15k probably? I can't keep things short, sorry) - Young-ish and freshly presented Alpha John, "Closeted" Omega Arthur. Ngl this one is smutty as hell... but! I think my take on omegaverse is rather fun (very transgendered) and it's porn WITH not without plot so something for everyone there lol. John's POV again + lotsa feelings, misunderstandings and some angst :) Just the way I like it.

Vandermatthews Daemon AU (had a title but ao3 yeeted my draft and I forgot what it was, oops)- I say Vandermatthews, but it's more of a "curious couple, unruly son" genfic than real slashfic 😅 This is supposed to be the beginning a series of oneshots from different characters' POV. This one is maybe a 1/3 done (needs a serious rewrite tho) and written from Hosea's POV. It's about him and Dutch finding and taking in young Arthur -- a very traumatised child who has undergone intercision and therefore lost his daemon. More of a collection of vignettes from that moment to when they take in John than a real coherent fic tho. The next one is going to be John's POV coming of age thing and we'll see where my brain will go from there. I want to do a separate big ass post about this one later because I have Opinions on the gang members' daemons that I need either challenged or validated...

1907!John/Isaac fic (title tba... a two parter, one set in the epilogue and the second is a RDR1 fix-it) - NOW HEAR ME OUT!!!!!! PUT DOWN THE GODDAMN PITCHFORKS FOR A SECOND PLS This is a plot bunny that Refused To Fucking Die. Isaac is obviously an adult in this (22), they have never met before, and the story begins in the months where Abigail and Jack were gone and John worked alone on Pronghorn ranch. It's not so much a romance (despite the slash) but more two people dealing with different types of grief in Very Unhealthy ways, okay. It's supposed to be a bit iffy because of that and the... 12 years of difference between them in this universe. I'm not trying to make this shit uwu or anything. It's also a bit of a daddy issues vent piece for me and I've been working it for MONTHS because I want to write this one right. This is the the fic I redacted in my last WIP showcase, but now decided that... fuck it. Here you go.

(Doubt anyone has made it this far, but if you did ily.. please lemme know what you think? My ask box is open for questions too... I love talking about the stuff I'm working on even if it's not posted yet ❤)

#wrote this instead of working on any of these like i promised myself i'll do today..#master of procrastination #(well i wrote like 500 words of and i'll die if that counts.. but i've been at my puter the whole day so that's like nothing rip)#rdr2 #oh the joys of fic writing

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fountainpenguin · 5 months ago

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Recent Frayed Knots progress for those interested (+ Origin):

Rereading - Spent May rereading a lot of Knots content, ensuring I knew where we were and wasn't going to forget certain plot points. I recap highlights in next chapter's author's note, such as a recent conversation between A.C. and his mom as they plot to kill High Countess Anti-Elina, which is, y'know... not a plot point we want to set up and forget to follow, haha.

TOC Update - Cleaned my table of contents, ensuring I had all my ducks in a row (as I moved a lot of things pre-hiatus in 2023). Made a new mini TOC that's easier for me to navigate and updated my new documents with proper before and after links.

Found some scenes I'd misplaced and cut some that had already made it into another chapter.

Outlining Update - Made some outline fixes to account for where we are now in terms of school, migration season, and the return to school. Also, cut some stuff related to Prince Eastkal. Made new, cleaner plans for moving A.C. from school to our next location.

Chapters - Dropped Knots' expected chapter count from 77 to 65. It'll probably go up again later; I've just been feeling unsure about its ending, so I brought the number down to what I know is staying.

Also, added headers and footers to Knots and Origin chapters & added these works to the Rainbow Train (in line with this post)

Rating Fix - Gave Origin and Knots lots of critical rethinking. Made the decision to change their AO3 rating from T to Not Rated and Author Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings and we'll talk about that in the author's note next Knots chapter.

Their expected content remains the same (i.e. The upcoming content was always in my plans), but I felt this was the more appropriate rating for a lot of the plot lines (Like, y'know... the sexual abuse that Anti-Cosmo went through with Anti-Kanin that he's still in denial even happened, plus the abuse multiple characters faced from Cupid's family, plus multiple attempts at child murder, not to mention some upcoming abuse that makes me say "Hmm.")

Any content I deem truly M or E will always be kept separate from these stories, as I do still consider these 'fics closer to upper teens in rating (or lightly mature), and they're more about themes than on-screen content... but now that I'm more familiar with AO3's rating system than I was when I posted these pieces, I think Not Rated & Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings are the best labels.

I want people to have proper expectations that oh boy, these are very messy 'fics. Read with care.

I'll leave the 'fics T on FFN for now unless I have a good reason to change them to M. I can see AO3 readers being surprised if they encounter the drawn-out abuse themes in a T rating, but imo FFN's definition for T rating is still more applicable to these 'fics than M.

Tag Update - Cleaned all the tags for Origin and Knots (They're mostly much the same, but I cut a few and added a few for clarity and improved the order of the tags).

Ex: Added a tag to Knots that says "A.C. is betrothed and married to another woman before Anti-Wanda." This was already implied by the first relationship tag (A.C./Original Character) and I did have a Slow Burn tag, but this should clarify

Also added specific tags for Child Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, and Sexual Abuse (instead of just Abuse & Dubious Consent).

I had a tag that said Angst and Romance, but I've changed that to Drama and Romance because I think that's more fitting

Removed Interspecies Relationships and changed to Interspecies Awkwardness + similar tweaks to other tags.

Intermission practice - Did some mini-projects to practice the mental switch of going from 3rd-person present tense (recent projects) back to Frayed Knots' style: 1st-person, past tense, and A.C.'s special brand of rambling and vocabulary.

New covers - Did lots of sketches for new cover images for Origin and Knots, as their old covers are outdated and I'd like to redraw them in my current art style.

Prep for next chapter - Wrote detailed story recaps for the author's notes (An Act 3 recap + a recap of all Anti-Lance's appearances thus far, as I wanted to highlight his past interactions with A.C.)

The next chapter focuses on Anti-Cosmo's relationship with Anti-Lance (who recently became creche father of the colony) and I really want readers to remember that Anti-Lance has played a significant role in Anti-Cosmo's life ever since they were tweens and he's not just "some guy" to A.C.

I spent time reviewing all of Anti-Lance's appearances and ensuring his personality and decisions next chapter are in line with how he's been established thus far.

Work on the next chapters - Lots of good progress has been made. I'm feeling good about the balance of A.C.'s inner monologues with the action (Heavier emphasis on the former than in most of my other works, in line with Frayed Knots' writing style).

Lots of outside research for the next chapters, plus reviewing how I've set up Anti-Fairy culture to ensure everything's in line with it.

Spending time to look at the upcoming chapters as a storyline to ensure I have my scenes in the chapters that make sense for them (and that I'm not just focusing on one chapter at a time). I don't want to rush to get a chapter out and regret not including a scene.

Working on my pacing. Many big things happen in this part of the timeline and I'm taking time to find a story flow I like.

Hoping to post Knots chapters starting in July. My posting schedule will depend on chapter length and the buffer size. See you then! :)

#ridwriting #Frayed Knots #Long post #Origin of the Pixies #FAIRIES!

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bioticbooty · 1 year ago

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20 Fanfic Questions

Tagged by @swaps55. Thank you!

Tagging @cr-noble-writes, @theoriginalladya, @ad-astra13 and anyone else who feels so inclined!

How many works do you have on AO3?

2. What's your total AO3 words count?

233,7802

This doesn't include WIP wordcounts which are so much higher

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mass Effect primarily. A little Dragon Age from time to time (mostly one shots). I have a Fable III WIP and Stargate Atlantis fic that's only on ffnet (and I refuse to go back to ffnet it's become a trash fire).

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Crosshairs - Mass Effect 1 slow burn shenko. (This version will be abandoned as I've been doing The Great Rewrite because the characters and my Shepard have evolved over the years, but I like having the old version up for comparison.)

Lightning - Mass Effect 1 fshenko smut with a wild card Shepard who would blow up a small moon if she was asked to fix a microwave

No Strings Attached - Pre-Mass Effect 1 fsehnko fluff and smut, which started as smutty prompt (what if Kaidan and Shepard had a one night stand on shore leave before ME1) and turned into this Whole Big Thing

Brace for Impact - Mass Effect 3 AU where Olivia Shepard is not an Alliance Marine because Mindoir was never raided so she never lost her family. And yet, fshenko because love always finds a way.

Sine Qua Non - Mass Effect/Pacific Rim crossover with fshenko, Kaidan and Shepard have a service history and then end up on the same Jaegar class fighter in the drift together.

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

Yes! Sometimes it takes a while, but I always respond to everyone before I post a new chapter because I want everyone who took the time to write me something that I really appreciate their words!! I also do it because I miss the old days of fandom community where comments flew around left and right, and I want to encourage that in my own little corner as best I can.

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

Color the Sky - The Blitz, Shepard is on shore leave with her partner when the slavers attack. This is the story that cements the belief that she's better off alone because the people who get close to her die.

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

I don't think anyone is happier in a finished fic of mine than Alexis Shepard and Kaidan in No Strings Attached when the finally find each other again after having pined after the other for literal years.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Only once, and it was transphobic garbage. "It's clunky and bad for reading to use these wierd fake pronouns introduced to make people feel better about themselves." I told them no one was holding a gun to their head forcing them to read the story and then locked the comment thread, because comment section battles with people who are already coming at it from a place of not actually wanting to understand is a waste of my time.

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

Sometimes, not that often anymore, and part of that is I can never just write smut without their being fluff and emotions and connection (see above: No Strings Attached turning into a 20k+ fic for a one night stand smut prompt). Part of this is because I am ace as fuck and the desire to have sex with people every second of the day because they're hot or whatever is just so utterly foreign to me. It has to feel right in the story. And if I'm gonna write just a smut story, you can bet there are thousands of words of background lore I wrote to make the smut happen on the page.

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

Very few. I think the only published one is the Mass Effect/Pacific Rim crossover. So by default, that one!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I am aware of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

None translated.

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Once, with some friends over a decade ago (on ffnet). It was fun but also stressful, and I probably won't do it again. It really has to be the right people, and this group I did that project with was a good group and also very kind and generous in giving over the reigns to each other. But I've also grown more stubborn as I've gotten older. It can work, but unlikely I'll ever do it again.

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

Shepard and Kaidan, to the surprise of no one.

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

I would like to finish Never Surrender, my Stargate Atlantis WIP that is partially published. Part of that will involve migrating it over to AO3. I'm so enmeshed in Mass Effect and The Great Rewrite that I don't know that I have time for that WIP right now.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue and combat.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Bridging scenes together. I get way too in my head about it, especially when characters are just sitting in silence for a moment.

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

I would love to do this and maybe could do it in a rusty, limited capacity with French, but it has been ages since I've spoken it in any useful capacity.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Star Trek Voyager. I've long since lost this story, but it was writing a bisexual and (though I didn't have the words for it at the time) asexual Seven of Nine.

Listen, I don't wanna say I was prophetic but have you watched Picard? Case settled.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

Choosing is hard!!!! Also I have so much unfinished, unpublished stuff that is my favorite but sticking to things that are published out there on AO3, it would be No Strings Attached. Shepard and Kaidan find unexpected happiness, then pine for a couple years because they were trying to pretend they weren't in love, and then the find each other again on the Normandy. They're nerdy dorks. They get to be the lighter versions of themselves and let go of expectations for a few days with each other and be a little reckless (and deeply, unapologetically romantic).

I also wrote that story in like 6 days while high off my ass on cold and flu medicine with a raging fever of like 102.

#meme games #mostly pointless text posts #these are super casual tags you don't have to do it if I tagged you #i really gotta migrate more of my stuff from ffnet to ao3

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rulimaquina · 2 years ago

Text

Always the Fool With the Slowest Heart

Fandom: Call Of Duty.

Characters: John "Soap" MacTavish. Simon "Ghost" Riley.

Contains: Call Of Duty MW3 (pre-remake) spoilers. Character death fix-it. Canon typical violence. Canon typical depictions of injuries. Hurt/Comfort. Fluff.

Ship: John "Soap" MacTavish x Simon "Ghost" Riley

ALSO CROSS-POSTED TO AO3

Soap is dead. That is the first thing that crosses Ghost's mind when he hears the distant explosion, followed by Price's all-too-clear voice as he calls out to Soap, sounding completely overtaken by fear in a way Ghost hasn't ever heard from him before. Then, silence that stretches on for what feels like an eternity.

In a matter of seconds, the part of him that's still Simon Riley- that part he keeps locked up behind concrete walls every day, breaks out without Ghost being able to do anything to stop it- neither does he try. His priorities don't involve maintaining the cold, detached sniper persona at the moment, not at all. He abandons his post at the upstairs window when he sees them rushing over: two of the resistance's men carrying a limp body along, Price guarding their six, someone else already entering the house. It's either Yuri or Soap. Ghost is not ashamed of the fact that, as he makes it down the stairs in record time, he very much prays to whatever higher power might have forsaken him for the one getting inside on his own two feet to be Soap.

But gods don't respond to forsaken people's pleas, and this time is no different.

They bring Soap in, bloody and covered in dust, but conscious and visibly in pain if the way his expression twists and his eyes go unfocused when the one holding his upper body shifts the way he's holding him is anything to go by. They place him on one of the tables, far too roughly for Ghost's liking. But he doesn't have time to glare at the men for longer than a couple seconds before he's pushing Yuri out of the way and standing to Soap's left.

He's wincing and muttering between quick, shallow breaths that he's clearly making an herculean effort to take, trying to tell Price something. But Price is busy barking orders and calling out to a medic while also trying to tell Soap to hang on.

Soap- No, Johnny, because there's little left of the soldier when he's in this state, only a messed up body in military gear. Johnny's eyes turn to Ghost and he sees it. The faded look of a drifting life stubbornly holding its last breath in, either waiting for the right moment or too afraid to release it. He's seen it so many times when he looks into the enemy's eyes just to see the awareness, the strength, everything that makes someone alive fade from them, the same way he's seeing it happen right now. But this is the first time that sight has made his stomach twist in horror that the mask only barely hides. Because eyes are the windows to the soul, and right now, Ghost's is as exposed as their team is in that old shack of a hideout they've holed up in.

Johnny lifts his hand and Ghost meets him halfway without hesitation, responding to the weak squeeze with a much firmer one, as if he could wrestle him out of death's hands just with his grip on his hand. But life is not that easy. His other hand goes to Johnny's vest, undoing all the straps and buckles that hold it together with only one hand proves to be harder than he remembers, but that doesn't stop him.

Ghost removes the front and lifts the shirt underneath, Johnny's body is littered with cuts, forming bruises and, on his left side, previously hidden, the gruesomely telltale curve of broken ribs.

Johnny's other hand seizes the neck of his vest, pulling him forward.

"Makarov knows Yuri."

A bullet shatters a nearby window and flies past between them, misses both their heads by half an inch.

Instinctively. Ghost ducks as Johnny curses. But he's back on his feet just as quickly. The medic is still nowhere to be found and there's no way help will come when they are actively being shot at. Ghost knows that, Price knows that. Even in his current state, Johnny knows that.

"You have to go," he tells them, each word coming out pained and labored.

Ghost knows how to cut off liabilities. Simon, on the other hand, squeezes his arm between Johnny's back and the table.

"Come on, Johnny," he begs.

As if begging would make Johnny's injured body easier to lift onto a fireman carry while Price covers them, shooting out a window like a madman to earn them a few precious seconds of not having to dodge bullets as Ghost heads for the backdoor. Yuri is following after them, and Simon let's the Ghost mask slip on again to shoot him a glare that says "If you try anything, I will hunt you to the end of this Earth and through the depths of hell." without him actually having to say a single word.

For now, Yuri is on their side. Simon will allow him to continue to breathe as long as he has Johnny to worry about.

As far as Johnny knows, they're getting out of the house through the basement, and away from the gunshots through an adjacent street that they previously cleared in case they needed a quick way out. He can hear Yuri saying something- a lot of things, probably explaining himself and what happened, and he can see Ghost's boots hitting the concrete as they move as quickly as Ghost dares to carry him.

Then, the darkness that obstructed his peripherals swallows him whole, and his consciousness fades along with his vision.

The next time he opens his eyes, Johnny is met with the blinding whites and sterile smell of a medbay room. His body feels heavy and he feels like his right side is sinking- no, the right side of the mattress is sinking.

Johnny's head slumps towards that side and there he sees it: Ghost has both his arms crossed on the mattress, and his head lying against them. His mask is off, allowing him the sight of a head of blond hair that's just an inch and a half too long to fit protocol, and a scarred cheek and jawline that Johnny didn't allow himself to stare at last time he got a peek, out of respect.

He took a moment to study his surroundings. There was a chair keeping the door blocked- of course Ghost wouldn't risk someone walking in on him with his face out for everyone to see. But most importantly, Ghost's back was rising and falling with slow, deep breaths.

"I fucking knew you couldn't sleep comfortably with that shit on."

Ghost is awake in an instant. Johnny had already found himself looking at him with his face exposed once before. But this time around Ghost is much closer as he stands from where he'd been sitting and moves closer to look into Johnny's eyes like the hold some sort of invaluable information, and so Johnny can appreciate that his eyelashes are, indeed, as blond as his hair.

Then he remembers how he got here in the first place, and it interrupts his daydreaming about Ghost's luscious lashes. Johnny powers through the pain and tries to sit.

"Yuri, he's-"

"Formerly, a friend of Makarov's." Ghost's hand settled on his chest with such gentleness, it catches Johnny off guard. He stops trying to move much beyond propping himself on his elbows. "He deserted his cause when he realized the lines Makarov was willing to cross to reach his goals. Now, he's on our side- or so he says, Price is making sure he's being watched at all times."

The answer doesn't sit well with Johnny, it shows in the way his nose scrunches like he smelled something foul. Then again, after Shepherd and Graves' betrayal back in Las Almas that resulted with him also being badly injured —really, what was it with him specifically and betrayal-induced injuries?—, and him and Ghost being hunted down by the Shadows, they'd all been quite on edge. Trusting new guys still proved to be a challenge, but Yuri grew on him, and a part of Johnny is glad that he has some kind of alibi.

"He told me what you did, you saved him," Ghost says, his tone somber. "What were you thinking?"

"That I'm tired of burying people." there is no pause before his answer, no hesitation. "What were you thinking when you didn't leave without me? You could have all gotten killed."

A minute of silence, then: "I'm tired of burying friends."

Maybe it is the near death experience, or the amount of medication he was on just to keep him from screaming his lungs out in pain and worsening his injuries, but Johnny also doesn't hesitate before he uttered the following response:

"Oh, don't call me a friend now," he almost groans. "Just when I was gathering the courage to kiss you."

Johnny's never seen Ghost so caught off guard before. The expression of deer caught in the headlights currently fully visible for him makes Johnny think of what Price said the first time they all got to see Ghost unmasked.

"Hi, Simon," he greets. "Nice to finally meet you. The kissing offer extends to you, too, by the way."

At first, nothing happens. But then Johnny reaches up, presses his hand to Simon's face and it's Simon who leans into his touch, it's Simon who meets him halfway and closes the gap between their mouths into a kiss that burns Johnny more than the explosion did, but without any of the pain aside from his body demanding that he stop fucking moving. But that can wait another minute. First, he has to kiss Simon until they're breathless.

And he does. Though he's a little disappointed his breathlessness comes before Simon's, and so he's forced to pull away first.

"I knew it," Johnny chuckles, winces and coughs before lying back with a groan. He still looks very pleased with himself. "You like me."

Simon wants to roll his eyes, he wants to tell him to shut up and rest. But he almost lost him, and until now he hadn't realized just how miserable he would be if he lost Johnny.

"I told you back in Las Almas," he huffs instead. "I like you alive."

The only word he can find to describe Johnny's smile is goody. Simon can't resist leaning forward and pressing a kiss to it. The kiss only makes that smile grow.

"You sweet talker," Johnny mutters against his lips. "I like you alive, too."

#call of duty #simon riley #john mactavish #ghost x soap #soap x ghost #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #fandom work

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