#also i have so many leon fics to read i don’t think i’ll be able to handle them

[cursedcatvibes]

WORLD RECORD!

re4r!incel roommate leon x roommate reader

word count: 3.6k

summary: Incel leon who thinks he’s above women and thinks he’s an alpha male. he’s an absolute piece of shit too.

tags/warnings: 18+ minors DNI! Smut, many many mentions of misogyny. He literally can’t find the clit. P in V, he wrapped it before he tapped it! Incel 😧. quick mention of abuse but it’s not super relevant to the plot. not proofread!

a/n: not much to say other than i cringed so bad trying to write leon’s character, but i was committed, i looked through incel forums on reddit and even got chronically online real quick. also i’m on vacation! so i’m not able to write as much as I want! :( i’ll probably post small drabbles but i will most likely have another full story up in a month considering I cranked out a whole 7k page fic and then now a 3k one. DONT QUOTE ME! Also maybe agent leon x agent reader next. @gettingsilly (my sweetheart who was so hyped about this! here you go my love!)

songs:

pussy - rammstein (highly recommend them)

behind blue eyes - limp bizkit (fun fact; this was the og title of the story!)

rape me - nirvana (this was going to be a non con but i changed my mind)

norwegian wood - the beatles (literally burns the woman’s house down cause she don’t want him😭)

happy reading!

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

Handsome. Is the first thing that came to mind when you first opened the door to greet your new roommate, Leon. 

-

The rent was getting out of hand these days and you figured it was a way better deal to split the rent instead of living paycheck to paycheck damn near.

The only downside were the horror stories about roommates and even just random strangers too. It made you feel a bit queasy, but what else could you do, a recently single woman and at the ripe age of 25, technically you were in your prime for all types of creeps and weirdos to try and pull something, especially if you live alone.

So you bit the bullet and put up a craigslist ad, putting it at the back of your mind for now while you went back to getting rid of your ex-boyfriend's belongings. 

You only remembered about it when someone responded to it and after a few messages back and forth you gave the address to him and told him he could move in tomorrow. Feeling a bit proud of yourself for even being able to organize such an arrangement.

-

The first thing you noticed was how absolutely built he was, he definitely went to the gym and it made you feel a little insecure for a brief moment, before you stepped to the side to allow him to enter. “Welcome to your new home!” You beamed, happy with what you’ve done to the place. Completely missing the way his eyes ran up and down your body lewdly. 

He only wanted to have a girl roommate because he figured she would give it up easily or at least flaunt her body off to him, much to his dismay you were wearing a hoodie and sweatpants, not a single ounce of skin showing where he could sculpt your body out. “Prude.” Is what ran through his mind.

“Thanks.” He replied stiffly. “Where is my room at?” Leon asked as he looked around, he was kinda pissed off you didn’t show him any goods. He hated girls who didn’t show off their body, but he hated girls who showed off too much, thought they were just whores looking to get some attention.

So what if he catcalled them? Obviously they were dressing like that for attention and got all pissy when he gave them that attention.

You were oblivious to Leon’s degrading thoughts, too focused on trying to make sure he didn’t try to kidnap or murder you. When he spoke about where he would be staying you perked up and showed him the room while also giving a quick tour of the apartment.

You were even sweet enough to help him unpack all his things once they were all brought in! He owned some interesting objects, a bit uncomfortable to watch him unpack as he had a whole box dedicated to just sex toys. Fake pair of tits that were way too big to even be comfortable on a woman, fake mouth, fake ass, and multiple fake pussy’s. That wasn’t even the worst part of it. 

It got all too freaky when he pulled out hentai figurines that had little to no clothes on, all in lewd poses with lewd expressions on their faces, more specifically ahegao. You could feel the initial attraction from him sizzle down to a mere speck of a flame.

How could someone just own all this stuff so casually, flaunting it like it was a toy race car collection? But Leon didn’t care, fictional cat women were so much better than real women. They couldn't reject him or deny him sex. (Because they quite literally couldn’t, they're inanimate figures.)

He had the straightest deadpan expression on his face and you got the heebie jeebies thinking about what he could’ve possibly done with all these weird toys.”So,” You cleared your throat awkwardly, suddenly feeling like every object of his you touched was just icky. “Where did you say you lived before this?” You asked curiously.

Leon glanced over at you, wondering if you were gonna pull your hoodie off and finally show him your tits if he answered all your questions, he was growing frustrated. Dammit woman! Show him something! He thinks this is the longest he had gone without jerking off or watching a porno. If you weren’t gonna entertain him sexually why were you still bothering him?

“My mom’s. She said something about me needing to move out because I'm too old.” He grumbled out, this gave you a major ick, didn’t this guy say he was 27? He wasn’t struggling to get money when clearly he can afford expensive sex toys and other items. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” You replied quietly, to which Leon grunted in acknowledgment.

Once you finished the box you were unpacking you decided the best course of action was to just walk away from this conversation. “It seems like you can handle the rest on your own, I don’t really wanna break any of your computer monitors and stuff.” You said as you stood up from the floor and brushed your hands against your pants.

 “Okay.” Leon hummed, disinterested in  conversation. All he really wanted to do was hurry up and set his computer up so he could jerk off in peace. You leaving his room was a bonus. He didn’t want to be downright rude and kick you out, after all, he is totally a nice guy. Plus he got the opportunity to stare at your ass as you walked out, he could see it jiggling underneath your sweats which was enough to rile him up.

-

You wish you could say it improved from there but unfortunately it did not at all. It only seemed to worsen. Like who the hell is watching porn from the moment they wake up to the moment they fall asleep. It’s all just yucky. The loud and over exaggerated moans that were definitely done for performance and not real. 

The only time Leon would leave his room was to eat or grab some water, he always looked so dazed too, it made you wonder what he was doing in there, you’ve never seen him go to work so it made you curious. 

Leon on the other hand was always so dazed or flustered in the face from the amount of jerking off he does all day. He once ran his dick dry enough to start cumming clear, rubbing himself raw damn near. It’s not like he tried not to get laid, he definitely did. But it never worked.

The way he carried himself was creepy, flaunting the fact he was a nice guy who could give a girl a good time. News flash! If you have to say you’re a nice guy, you're definitely not. Girls often avoided him in middle school and that followed him throughout highschool and even college. So he naturally drifted towards animated women.

He was hot but his personality quite literally sucked, it's like he would attract women because of his looks and as soon as he started speaking they lost interest. But you? You still greeted him every time he came out of his room with a polite smile on your face, offering to cook him something but he always declined because the mere thought of having a woman do something trivial such as cook for him like a traditional woman should, made him hard on the spot.

He had the normal views on life, such as all men do. Women are baby makers, they belong in the kitchen, they should treat their man like a king. It’s not like anyone could change his opinion either. He’s so far into the rabbit hole that his other incels praise him like he was a god, thus only further bursting his massive ego. 

-

You didn’t think much of Leon, not in a harsh way, you just didn’t really know that much about him because you two never spoke like that. All you did know was that he watched porn, maybe a bit too much that was considered normal. It's not like you're shaming him because you watch porn too, but you have some decency, a bit of dignity and pride.

Yet your opinion of him instantly sours when one day he comes out of his room, which reeked with the smell of cum and sweat, the room was humid too, which confused you when you first noticed it. He wore an angry expression on his face as he stomped, yes, like a toddler would, towards the fridge to guzzle down a can of soda. 

You, sitting on the couch mindlessly scrolling through your phone waiting for the time to pass on your off day, you planned to go to a club and slut yourself out to help remind yourself that you’re in fact hot and your ex missed out. Yet when he slammed the fridge door closed that caught your attention, perking your head up like a puppy.

“Uh, you alright?” You asked aloud, watching his eyes snap towards you with a frustrated huff. He figured if you put up with him this long then you must see the same misogynistic views he does about women. “No!” He scoffed out, dragging himself to sit on the couch next to you, like directly. Knees touching and everything.

This piqued your curiosity, maybe you could learn something about him? “What’s wrong?” You questioned as you shut your phone off, sitting up a bit straighter now, putting some distance between the both of you on purpose by grabbing a throw pillow.

Leon then started to rant and you’ve never been more disgusted and horrified in your life before. “I’ve been talking to this really hot chick and we were hitting it off, even had phone sex once or twice but when she asked me who my ideal woman was she ghosted me! Like what's wrong with saying women belong in the kitchen, or doing laundry, or even just cleaning. Women are only here to serve us alpha males.” 

Your nose scrunched up while your face morphed into genuine horror mixed with disgust. Is this seriously his mindset? It must be a joke or something of the sort because no way in hell. “Is.. is this a joke?” You asked, feeling puzzled as you looked around for a hidden camera. Out of all the people you got stuck with, you got stuck with an incel of all people.

Leon stared at you with the most serious face he could muster, he wasn’t kidding, in fact he was getting a bit upset that you were thinking he was joking. “Women are what's wrong with this world! You’re all too soft and so ditzy. You all think men’s feelings are a joke.” He grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and you swear you can make out a dried cum stain on his clothes. 

You felt so sick and also tickled, you’ve never heard someone or have been around a real life incel before and unfortunately this one came in the form of a super hot guy that wasn’t looking so hot anymore 

“Ew..” You stood up from the couch and stuck your tongue out slightly. “Is that how you see women? No wonder why she ghosted you, you’re a fucking incel.” You scoffed out, to which Leon got offended. “So?! What’s wrong with that?!” He shouted, the tips of his ears turning pink. It was different being scolded by a woman in person rather than over the phone because  he knows they can't hurt him physically but rather verbally. Plus it’s much easier to insult someone online versus real life.

“Do you actually hear the words leaving your mouth?” You questioned, staring him down intensely. Leon tried not to shrink in on himself, it reminded him of his mom telling him that he had done something wrong and now he was in trouble. So he doubled down and sat up straighter too, staring up at you. 

“Yeah, and what about it? Why do women get so butthurt over every little thing?” Leon grunted out, rolling his eyes like a little kid would. You were just astonished that he was willing to keep going even after being confronted with the fact, but you weren’t oblivious to the way his ears were turning red from embarrassment. “Fine, if that’s how you’re gonna be.” You murmured as you sat down on the coffee table right in front of him. His eyes follow your form curiously. If he was being honest the only reason why he actually moved in with you was because he thought you were really hot from your profile picture and even the photo you sent of yourself to prove that you were real, per his request. He jerked off to both photos for hours. (Plus his mom really did kick him out.)

Leon went to question you in hopes of turning the table around to make it backfire on you. Yet as his mouth opened to make another snide remark about women you spoke up first. “Let me be the first one to tell you this, and I mean this too.” You paused as you stared right into his eyes. “No woman is ever gonna have sex with you if you have this mentality and mindset.” You watched his eyes widen a bit and felt some joy come from it.

Leon balled his hands up into fists in genuine anger, a deep part of himself knew she wasn’t lying but the other part was so adamant on her being wrong. Obviously she didn’t know what she was talking about, women never do. “You’re a liar. You’re just jealous.” He scoffed out, narrowing his eyes into thin slits.

You were absolutely not lying.

Far from it actually.

The closest Leon had came to a pussy is on a computer screen, let’s face it. No woman on earth would wanna sleep with such scum such as him, not even prostitutes themselves want to take on such a tedious task. They’d rather kill themselves or have their pimp abuse them than sleep with him.

“Really, name 5 women you’ve had touch you in a romantic way.” You countered, staring into his eyes with an intense expression. Leon opened his mouth to try and smugly name a woman until he realized the answer was 0, he had no names because no one wanted him like that.

It was a blow to his ego and it showed on his face. If he wasn’t such a loser with terrible opinions along with his shitty personality then you would’ve felt bad but you didn’t. It was his own fault.

“That’s not fair.” He grumbled, staring up at you with a slight hurt look on his face. He wanted to get back at you. Make you regret and eat your words. How? Well that problem was quickly answered as he grabbed your wrist and pinned you beneath him on the couch. A yelp leaving your mouth at the sudden movements.

“What the—“ You were suddenly cut off by Leon’s hand slapping over your mouth, he smelled of cum and sweat, it made you wanna gag and throw up on him. “I bet I can make you cum so hard you’ll forget that you were mean to me.” He hissed, his fragile ego was broken because of you!

You furrowed your eyebrows before rolling your eyes. “Whatever.” You said underneath his palm, voice coming out muffled.

Leon smirked and moved his hand off your mouth, gazing lustfully at your body. He seemed confident but on the inside he was screaming at himself. He’s never touched or seen a woman in such an intimate manner in real life. This wasn’t a screen this time.

He gulped and hooked his fingers on the waistband of your sweatpants, he was determined to make you cum if it was the last thing he ever did.

Once he removed your sweatpants he found you commando beneath it. His breath caught in his throat, your mound was glistening beneath the light in the living room. It wasn’t even wet because of him, but he was dumb enough to not know the difference. He stared in awe before looking back up at your face when you cleared your throat awkwardly. “You gonna stare or what?” You questioned.

Leon shook his head before putting his hands on you, gently rubbing your inner thighs. Making you think that for a brief moment he might actually know what he was doing, right up until he pressed his thumb against your lower lips and started rubbing them.

Completely missing your clit.

He felt so aroused and a bit cocky now that he was touching your pussy, his eyes laser focused on your face to see if it was feeling good. He even tried dirty talk too. “Yeah? Does that feel good? I bet it does.” Literally hyping himself up.

You found it hilarious and decided to nod, stifling a laugh as you let out a fake over exaggerated moan he hears in his crappy pornos. Leon let out a soft groan at the sound, his hips bucking up into the air while his cock twitched.

Now, Leon had seen enough porn to know that he needed a condom and lube, obviously they never showed the actors prepping the girls' pretty cunts, they just stuck it in. Spoiler alert, foreplay is hot! None is not.

While Leon ran to his room you took the opportunity to finger yourself, even if you were sure he wasn’t packing much you wanted to be somewhat prepared for a small stretch, you groaned silently, throwing your head back in pleasure, clearly favoring your hand over Leon himself.

When you heard his footsteps you quickly pulled your hand away and watched as he excitedly took his pants off. Wow, so much for knowing how to pleasure a woman. It was funny to watch him struggle to keep it together when he kneeled back between your legs.

“I’m gonna put it in now.” Leon announced, squirting a generous amount of lube on your cunt before (attempting to) rolling on the condom. (You definitely had to help him. The last thing you wanted was to get knocked up by some dimwit.)

He put some lube on his cock, jerking off a bit while looking down at your pussy. Not your face. When he stopped masturbating he slapped the tip of his dick against your clit a few times, your body jolting in pleasure at the sudden sensation.

This immediately boosted his ego and you were in awe he was able to make you feel partially good. He was just daydreaming of how tight and warm your hole was going to feel. His dick wasn’t that big either, it was average length, average size, average balls. Just.. underwhelming and average.

“What’re you waiting for?” You murmured, snapping him out his trance briefly before he cleared his throat. “J-Just trying to brace you for my cock, it’s big right?” Leon questioned, feeling a bit insecure but he wanted you to make him feel better, feel like a man. That was a woman’s purpose after all.

“Yes (no).” You sighed out breathily, keeping up your act, dragging your nails down his body gently, causing him to shudder and nod with a smug look on his face. He pushed himself in fairly easily, considering your ex-boyfriends cock was much bigger and overwhelming, accidentally clenching down around Leon’s sad excuse of a penis which riled him up, thinking you had came.

You definitely missed his dick and now was stuck with some crappy one attached to a misogynistic freak. A soft sound of discomfort left your lips and Leon took it as a sign that you were enjoying it. You must love it! He was so confident in himself!

So confident that after 5-6 thrusts he spilled inside the condom, talk about a minute man. He was a millisecond man. His whole body spasmed from euphoric bliss, he had never cum this hard in his life before, burying his face in your neck, sloppily kissing at your skin because he couldn’t kiss for the life of him.

You were stunned someone could cum so quickly, that had to be a world record or something. Quickest man to cum after sticking it in or some random ass title, you hadn’t realized you had zoned out about the Guinness record book until Leon pulled his cock out from inside you, feeling good about himself.

He was panting softly from the intensity of his orgasm, leaning back against the couch to gaze at your pretty pussy, he wanted to eat you out too, wanting to show you he was good orally too.

“Was it good? Did you cum too?” Leon said as he stared into your eyes, wanting to hear you sing his praises and take back your harsh words that hurt his feelings. Almost like a puppy waiting for its owner to praise them for pissing outside the house instead of inside.

You grabbed your clothes and put them back on, smirking as you stared him dead in the eye. “No, I didn’t cum.” You snickered as his face dropped, kissing his forehead quickly. “Sucks to suck, Leon.” You said casually, getting up to go to your room and nap.

Leon sat on the couch stunned beyond relief, his cock kicking against his thigh as he watched you.

He swore under his breath that you were lying and you did cum, after all, delusion is key, and delusion is what made him become your roommate to begin with.

[into-the-daniverse]

This is mostly just for me and for fun, but I wanted to put together a list of my favorite fics that I wrote last year—one from each month—and kind of talk about them a little!

Of all the fics I posted over 2021, my word count was approximately 194k, which isn’t counting the dozens of WIPs I have that I haven’t finished, but uh, that’s a lot. 😭

Anyway, if you read any of my fics this past year I love and appreciate you so much! There are so many more stories in my brain that I’m sure I’ll be sharing this coming year.

January

The Devil is a Gentleman — While the band travels with the newly appointed Pirate Queen Meredith, Alec meets another pirate captain during a stop at a tavern, one who takes an interest in her, and is far more dangerous than he seems at first glance.

Okay, so, while this was a very hard fic to write, and it isn’t one I reread often, it achieved my end-goal, which was to give everyone who read it the heebie-jeebies. As an official introduction to Syd, from the eyes of a kid who has never met him before, I don’t think I could have done it any better—you get the charm and the creep factor all at once! Plus this kickstarted a ton of pirate worms so, yay!

February

January — After Alec’s death, the rest of the band deals with their grief each in their own way, forcing Leon to be the responsible one for once and take care of his family while mourning Alec himself.

While this fic absolutely broke my heart to write, it (and the whole series tbh) is one of my favorites because I got to explore Leon’s voice and trauma in a new way.

March

Glitter and Gold — Rodrigo and the crew of El Corazon Sangrante come across a kid stuck in the Strait of Sirens, and after saving him, he becomes a permanent part of the crew.

This was so much fun to write, because as much as I hate writing action I feel like it turned out well in this one, and also writing banter is like my favorite thing to do, and especially the banter between Rodrigo and Keean is great! It also gave Rodrigo a chance to be more than just an asshole, which is both good and bad because now I’m obsessed with him.

April

Feral Roots — Part 1 of Meredith’s backstory, her time growing up among the Laochra tribe from her birth to the day she ran away after her father’s death.

I’ve rewritten this part a few times, but this is such a good stepping stone for the novel I’m going to eventually write about her, I just love it so much! Plus I got to explore the dynamics of a group of people who were born and grew up in the wilderness and how that would effect them.

May

And So It Went — Part 3 of Meredith’s backstory, after meeting the Pirate Queen Aria, she travels back to her tribe’s home in the south, only to find that there is no one left anymore. Leaving her home for the last time, she agrees to become Aria’s protege, the next Pirate Queen, and trains with her for four years.

This is probably my favorite of the 3 parts because there’s so much lore and information, and a lot of strings tie together in this one over other fics I’ve read. It’s heartbreaking but also inspiring (at least to me) and watching Meredith start this chapter of her life is amazing.

June

How To Rest — After she gets injured during a fight, Theodore pleads for Meredith to take the time to rest and heal, and after some convincing, she listens.

God. GOD. This month was so hard because I did a lot of cute fics but I definitely come back to this one the most and it has a special place in my heart because it completely set the ship of the two of them in high gear in my brain. I’m just so weak for mean and battled-hardened pirate queen falling for her kind and gentle doctor.

July

Break The Chain — After running away from his family in Prakra, Jamil makes one final change to signify his own hold over his life.

This was a very cathartic fic for me to write, because I have had my own journey with my hair growing up, and cutting it/shaving it always felt like being able to take control over myself again in the face of my mother trying to control my looks and decisions. 

August

Nostalgia — Part 4 of Alec’s Prologue, in which, Alec reunites with someone from her past in a dream, begins her investigation of the Count’s murder, and starts to connect more with the Countess, finding that they have more in common than she would have thought.

My favorite part of this was writing Alec’s reunion with Leon, where even though she still doesn’t know who they are, she gets that confirmation that she does have family somewhere outside of Vesuvia, and they care about her so much.

September

Smoke Signals — Ignatius bonds with his younger sister, Camía-Marie, neither of them prepared for what happens when her magic awakens.

Okay, this one is sad, but it was another one that I enjoyed writing because I felt like I got to expand out of my comfort zone and write uncomfortable scenes and talk about trauma. Plus, writing outside of the POV that the story centers around is something that I’ve grown to enjoy.

October

November

And Then She Kissed Me — Andreya and Elizabeth spend some time alone in the middle of a busy day aboard The Jagged Ruby, between their own duties.

Y’all I’ve had these OCs in my mind for so long and this is the first thing I’ve written for them, it just makes me so emotional to finally have something that features them, even if it’s not in their canon universe. Plus they’re such cute girlfriends!

December

Why Why Why — Rodrigo grows up in his village of Girasol with his mothers, Elena and Carina, but unknown to him, there are forces outside of the village who will stop at nothing to get their hands on his magic.

I spent so long with this in my drafts, but being able to finish it was such a rewarding feeling. This fic (and the part 2 that will come later) really allowed me to explore my own feelings about being taken from a culture that was supposed to be mine at a young age, though Rodrigo’s experience is considerably more traumatic, it is a dramatized view of my own trauma.

Some Honorable Mentions under the cut! (caution for 🍋 content)

Honorable Mentions

Talk Dirty 🍋 — listen I am very gay for my own OCs and Alec is no exception 😩

Jamil’s Romance Tale — yes I reread this often, I just love him 🥺

Desire 🍋 — spicy valjam is the best valjam and this is my favorite thing I've written for them

Midsummer Masquerade Masterlist 🍋 — I literally can’t pick one so have them all

Show Me What I’m Looking For 🍋 — I don’t write many “first time” fics but this one of Jamil x Leon is very dear to me

Follow You — I am a sucker for character A gets injured and character B watches over them, but with the added spice of emotional constipation

[dracothedeatheatingcupcake-ao3]

Danganronpa IshiMondo Hogwarts AU idea

Hi all! So, the other night I was lying in bed, thinking about IshiMondo (as one does), when I got this random idea. It just kind of was a random musing at first, but the more I thought of it, the more invested I got. What was this idea, you ask? Well, those of you who read the title of this post will already know. 

IshiMondo at Hogwarts. And... that’s about it, ha. 

The idea quickly went from a “ha, cool idea” to an “I must have this.” And I would like to say that-- while I know Harry Potter has its flaws (and J.K. Rowling can bite me)-- I still adore the series, while also acknowledging the flaws and downfalls. 

I did write a one shot fic of IshiMondo at Hogwarts, but this post isn’t about that. This is just about my headcanons of what house each student would be in, their blood purity, their prefect status, as well as how it would work having the Danganronpa characters be in Hogwarts. If you feel excited about the fic, don’t worry, it is completed with 25k words. I wrote frantically the last day and a half to complete it, ha. I had no plot in mind when I started, just wanted a IshiMondo Hogwarts story, but I got a pretty solid plot idea after writing for a little bit, so I hope y’all like it. 

I don’t know when I’ll be posting it, just because I have a bit of a backlog of fics to post, oof. Probably sometime next week, after some more editing. 

Anyway, if you are interested in the Hogwarts AU idea, feel free to read on to the rest of the post. It’s a little rambling, so apologies about that. But I’m just super psyched on this idea, ha. And I always focus on useless details when I think about thing, oof. 

(I will add a read more here, just to not have an insanely long post clog your dash if y’all don’t care, ha.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anyway. The first thing I thought about was which house each student would be in. And this... was surprisingly easy, really. Some of the characters I was a bit stuck on, but was still able to put them in a house and feel good with it, even if for some I’m like “ehhh, they asked the hat to be in that house, lol”. 

One small issue I found for fitting the Danganronpa characters into Hogwarts was the fact that the 88th class only had 16 students, which would be ridiculously small for a Hogwarts year. I explain this one away by saying the war just made their year smaller, since I wouldn’t want to add any students to their year, really. If you go by their canon birth years, 1993 (other than Hiro, ha, though in this AU he’s the same age as the rest), they’d have been about 4 or 5 during the war in 1998, so it would make some sense for their year to be smaller. Also... if you’re wondering why 16 Japanese students ended up in a British school... shhhh. That’s the biggest hand wave in all Hogwarts crossover AU’s. 

Anyway, here’s the houses I put them in. I wanted 4 per house, since there are an even 16 students in Danganronpa, so 4 per house makes sense. I also initially wanted to have 2 girls and 2 boys, when possible, but it didn’t work out for most of the houses. Ah well. 

The students houses, as well as “blood purity” and prefect status, since my fic takes place in fifth year:

Hufflepuff: 

Makoto (half-blood) 

Taka (pureblood) (prefect, duh) 

Sayaka (half-blood)

Hifumi (half-blood, muggle mother) 

~XoxoxoxoxoxoX~

Gryffindor:

Mondo (muggle born)  (prefect)

Sakura (half-blood) 

Leon (half-blood) 

Hina (half-blood) 

~XoxoxoxoxoxoX~ 

Slytherin:

Junko (pureblood)

Mukuro (pureblood)

Byakuya (half-blood- pureblood father, half-blood mother) 

Celeste (half blood- pureblood mother, half-blood father) (prefect)

~XoxoxoxoxoxoX~ 

Ravenclaw:

Kyoko (half-blood) (prefect)

Hiro (muggle born) 

Toko (half-blood)

Chihiro (muggle born) 

~~~~~

Houses defense:  

I honestly feel that these houses are pretty representative of the characters, for the most part. But here is some evidence, which yes, I did put thought into, ha. Please go with the assumption for the houses that the hat also takes into account what qualities the students personally value, even a bit more than what qualities they may or may not possess. This is just how I personally view the hat working in HP, because otherwise... well, it doesn’t make much sense, since everyone has at least some quality of each house. 

Taka, I firmly believe, is absolutely a Hufflepuff, duh. Not only does he value hard work above literally all else, but he is fiercely loyal and does his best to be kind, even if he doesn’t always succeed. More than that, while he is intelligent, he absolutely does not value intelligence, since he hates geniuses, which eliminates Ravenclaw. He is ambitious, but he is the legit opposite of cunning or sly, ha, so Slytherin is out. And while he is brave, he is not at all reckless, nor do I think he values bravery much, so no to Gryffindor. Thus, Hufflepuff through and through. 

I also feel confident with Mondo’s placement. He’s totally a Gryffindor, oof. He’s so hotheaded and reckless in canon, always running headfirst into things without thinking it through first. And with his thing against being weak, he tends to make up for it by being recklessly brave, not to mention how he’d have to at least fake bravery with his position as a biker gang leader. He doesn’t really fit in the other houses either, since he’s not super ambitious, he doesn’t really value intelligence (I like to imagine that he is intelligent, but he wouldn’t value it, which I personally view as being important in Hogwarts houses), and while he is loyal, he doesn’t value hard work or kindness, really. Thus, Gryffindor. 

I think I got Slytherin house pretty spot on, ha. Junko is totally a Slytherin, given how she... literally created an entire killing game and deceived her entire class. If that’s not ambitious and cunning, I don’t know what is... I don’t know much about Mukuro, but I imagine she’d want to be with her sister if nothing else. Byakuya and Celeste are total Slytherins, given their ambition and drive for success. 

Ravenclaw I was a bit confident about too, other than Hiro. But Kyoko definitely has big Ravenclaw vibes, with her inquisitive and sleuthing nature. She seems to be one to value intelligence, too. Chihiro is an intelligent character, who also values intelligence, so that also fits. Same with Toko, though I suppose she could possibly go with Slytherin... but I don’t view her as very ambitious, honestly, when you take away Genocide Jack/Jill, which I usually try to do (people with DID are not serial killers, thank you very much). Now, Hiro... this was one I was a bit stuck on. I contemplated putting him in Hufflepuff, since he has the whole, you know... stoner vibe, ha. But I think Ravenclaw does fit him. While he doesn’t have good grades and isn’t portrayed as being very intelligent, he is a talented clairvoyant in canon, and if he were in a world with divination, I firmly believe he’d be an excellent divination expert, which is a form of intelligence. He also has big Trelawney vibes, who is a Ravenclaw, ha. 

The rest of Gryffindor I wasn’t super sold on, but I feel they fit. Sakura is certainly brave, even if she’s not super reckless. I think, though, that she’d want to be in Gryffindor and would ask the hat to put her there. Since she doesn’t have any strong ties to any other house (she is ambitious and loyal, but she’s not either thing above everything else), I think the hat would respect her wish. Leon I honestly wasn’t sure on, since I don’t know too much about him as a character, but I wanted him and Mondo in the same house, so... yeah. Plus, he has the whole rebel vibe, ha. Hina I almost had in Hufflepuff, but that would have messed up the 4 per house thing, so I changed her to Gryffindor. I do think it fits, though I don’t know too much about Hina, since I never finished playing the game and don’t know her later game character much. Early on, she seems to be one to be willing to fight for what she believes in, though, so Gryffindor would prolly fit. 

Hufflepuff was also a bit of a struggle for me, but I think Makoto definitely fits. He’s very friendly and kind, as well as loyal, so I think Hufflepuff fits him well. Now, Sayaka and Hifumi... eh, I felt it fits a little, since neither really strikes me as having many qualities of the other houses, but I was not super sold on either. Sayaka is ambitious and can be cunning, but she just... doesn’t really strike me as a Slytherin, and I also don’t think she’d want to be placed there. Hufflepuff is more of a cutesy house (I say as a proud Hufflepuff, so don’t @ me), so I do think she’d like the house more. And with not having many qualities of the other houses other than Slytherin, I think the hat would also respect her wishes. Now, Hifumi... I had considered him for Ravenclaw (switching him and Hiro), but I just didn’t think that fit all too well. He doesn’t really have qualities of any of the houses, in my opinion, which then instantly would put him in Hufflepuff, since Hufflepuff is more than willing to take any student. Which I personally view as a good thing, ha, so please don’t think I’m putting down Hufflepuff. 

~~~~~

Blood purity: 

Now, the whole blood purity thing I didn’t put too much thought into other than who I think would be bigger with ‘muggle’ things than others, like Chihiro. Hiro I had be muggle born just ‘cause, though, ha. Most I had as half-blood, just because it seemed a good middle of the road thing. Junko and Mukuro are pureblood since Junko seems like she’d be a snob about it, while Byakuya and Celeste just have a single pureblood parent mostly because of a throw-away line in the fic I wrote, ha. I didn’t feel it mattered too much with all of the rest of the class other than Taka and Mondo, though, since blood-purity is kind of a meh thing. 

However, with Mondo and Taka, I did put some thought into their blood purity.

Taka I had as a pureblood since I think it makes sense, given his cluelessness with popular culture in canon. This can translate well to him just not knowing muggle things. Also, I thought that having his grandfather be a Death Eater would also work out, as that would give him a very good reason to dislike the man and also gives him a big reason why he doesn’t want to be like him. It makes more sense than his grandfather being Minister of Magic and having a scandal, since during the time Taka was a child in this AU, Fudge was Minister of Magic, and then the other dudes whose names I forgot. 

Mondo, though, I think would work best as a muggle born, especially considering his brother’s biker gang. I like to imagine that Daiya still has the gang in this AU and that Mondo would be at least an honorary member, so having Daiya be muggle worked out well. Plus, it would add to the IshiMondo dynamic, giving Mondo the ability to teach Taka about the muggle world, kind of like I have him teach Taka about popular culture and all that in my other IshiMondo fics.

~~~~~

Prefect defense: 

Before going into the individual characters, I wanted to mention that I chose to have only one prefect per house mostly due to how few students are in the year. If there was one boy and one girl per house like in canon Harry Potter, that would be half the year as a prefect, which... makes no sense, ha. I was originally gonna have that before realizing that it made no sense. So, one per house in their year. That’s still a lot proportionally, but imagine the anger if one house had a prefect but another didn’t, so... yeah. While I like the idea that all of the class gets along well, there would still be some inter-house rivalry to consider. 

Anyway... I’m sure most people who saw my list and saw that I made Mondo a prefect would be like “... wait, what?” and think I just had that as an IshiMondo thing. And while, yes, that is part of it, it’s not all of it. Given his position as Biker Gang Leader in canon, I do think that he would do well with responsibility, even despite his disinclination for rules and his quick temper, and all that. And considering that someone like James Potter was somehow made Head Boy, I know that the character being a perfect rule follower isn’t necessarily what gets them the badges. While Sakura would probably make a good prefect, I don’t think she’d want to be one, which is another thing to take into consideration. 

I don’t think I have to explain why Taka is a prefect, ha. 

Now, as for Kyoko and Celeste... with Kyoko, I felt she was the only one of the Ravenclaws I have that would actually be decent as a prefect. I mean... Toko and Chi are too timid, while Hiro is, well... Hiro. And as for Celeste... I actually originally had Byakuya as the Slytherin prefect, given how he’s definitely one who’d want the prestige of the title, but then I realized that there would be 3 boy prefects and only one girl. I think, given how each year in HP had one girl and one boy per house, that there would be an even girl/boy ratio with the prefects, even with the limited number of prefects in their year. Plus, Celeste seems like she’d do as good (or bad, ha) of a job as Byakuya. 

~~~~~

And that’s about the extent of my musing on this all, ha. Honestly, I like the idea, and while I’m sure there are other Hogwarts/Danganronpa crossovers, I don’t think there are any IshiMondo ones. On AO3, at least. I know I didn’t have to sort all of the characters and put this much thought into it, since the fic I wrote was primarily focused on IshiMondo, but honestly? I do like the idea. And maybe, if other people like the idea too, I can write other Danganronpa/Hogwarts crossover fics, though I think it would mostly focus on IshiMondo, since I like Taka and Mondo best. 

For those who stuck around this long, I’ll go briefly over the fic I wrote, if y’all are curious. Like I said, my main desire when writing was that I just wanted an IshiMondo Hogwarts story and that was my primary motivation. I set the story in fifth year, since I wanted to talk about Taka being a recent prefect. As writing, though, I had the idea of making Taka struggle to produce a patronus, given his canon problem with letting himself loosen up. Also, I always headcanon Taka as having had a pretty bleak childhood, which primarily comes from the fact that the creators said when they were coming up with his backstory, they had to stop since it got dark quick, oof. Going along with this, I then figured it would be cute to have Mondo help Taka with it, which brings the two closer. I didn’t want them to be friends or “brothers,” though, so it was kind of a mini “enemies to lovers” thing. 

I didn’t want them to be totally at odds, though, so I also came up with a reason for them to go from enemies to kind of uneasy acquaintances before the fic took place. The reason I gave was that, in the end of their fourth year a few months before the fic started, they had faced a boggart in their defense against the dark arts class and Taka’s was his death eater grandfather, who told him he would never be good and that he was nothing more than a death eater like him, which made Taka cry. Mondo was like... oh shoot... and helped him out, saying that he was actually good, duh. Taka was freaked out by this, since he was like... wait, aren’t we enemies??? And also, you’re a trouble maker, why do I like you??? So he suppressed everything to prevent his fragile world view from crumbling. But Mondo was like... dude... I think I like Taka now, and maybe always did, wtf... which lead to Mondo cleaning up his act over the summer break, and then helping with the patronus in their fifth year. 

Anyway! That was a bad explanation of the fic, but I really like it and I hope y’all do too, when I post it, ha. I mostly just need more Hogwarts IshiMondo in my life, tbh. 

Sorry for the insanely long and rambling post! Hope someone got something out of it, ha. See y’all later! 

[fonulyn]

Yo Anon, if you write a healthy Metaltango fic please know I would absolutely read the shit out of that! As for what I actually wanted to ask you, the owner of this blog lol, you mentioned you liked Nivannedy most. I am TRYING to hop on this boat but i keep falling off. Could you maybe explain the thought process behind them, too? Give me a push in the right direction :3c? I barely see them interact so im struggling here hhhh

see this, anon? :D when you do write that, please know you've got readers! I'd love to read it too.

honestly I'm always open for recs, in general. don't be afraid to rec your own stuff if you feel like it :3

AND. as for the second part of the ask lol.

haha well, they barely interact, that is true :'D canonically they don't even exchange a single word. so I absolutely understand where you're coming from. but this pairing, for me, isn't about their canonical interactions but it's about their personalities and how i feel that'd be such a good match.

like, by re6, Leon is tired. he is fucking exhausted. everything keeps going wrong, everything keeps going in the same circle, nothing ever changes no matter how many bad guys he puts into the ground. there's always some new asshole peddling with BOWs as soon as he gets rid of the previous one. he still fights. he still goes on. but there's a level of exhaustion to him that he didn't have before.

wherein Piers! he's got the same drive that re2-re4 Leon had! he's all about helping people, making a difference, making the world a better place, destroying the BOWs. he feels so strongly he has a purpose and it is to help make the world brighter. and that is exactly what Leon felt. still feels, deep down, under all the tiredness. like think about Leon in RE2remake, outside Kendo's, saying how he wants to help people? that's the same vigor that Piers has.

(I'm not saying Piers is like identical to young Leon lmao he's so not he's much more hotheaded and hardheaded lol but the drive, man, the passion)

and I think that Piers would remind Leon of why he's fighting. why it's worth it. what it felt like when he was less exhausted and hadn't yet been screwed over a million times. I see this dynamic as something that invigorates Leon, brings him back towards the light, so to speak.

also, there's the fact that Piers is ready to approach people, unafraid to speak his mind, unapologetically himself. wherein Leon has created this sort of a shell around himself that makes him seem withdrawn even as he cares so very deeply. I think Piers would 100% be able to draw Leon from that shell and, you know, help him regain that part of himself he's kept sheltered for so long.

and it's not all about Leon, of course. Leon is the more analytical type instead of the act first think second type. I think Leon would balance out Piers' hot temper so nicely, would help him find ways to center himself so he'd be able to channel that temper better. Leon would be the balancing force wherein Piers would be the driving force.

idek I just think they'd complement each other so well. and I love imagining their dynamic, and how it'd play out.

and, granted, some of it is 100% just my desire to see them both healthy and happy and alive, so I'm definitely channeling that into it as well. i want the two of them happy, and by making them happy together i get two birds with one stone.

but i love this pair so much it's ridiculous ansdfjgnhkjn i know it's a rarepair and that it's got little to no canon to back it up but the endless possibilities!! Piers was recruited in 2010 so he could definitely have known Leon from then on?? the sky is the limit to how many things one can imagine happened :'D

ALSO. the cockpit scene in re6? seriously? Piers has no business looking that worried for someone he barely knows. he's downright panicking. see? canon interaction! sorta lmao let me have this ahah

I'll just shut up now before I write a novel for this. they make me so happy 🥺💖

but hey, anon, no stress :3 you're obviously under absolutely no obligation to like the pair no matter how much poetic i wax about them. i'm so happy to hear you've tried to give them a chance, at least! thank you 💖

[queerofthedagger]

If nobody asked it, merthur for the ship ask?

Thank you for the ask! Funnily enough, nobody asked for merthur yet 😄❤️

when I started shipping it if I did:

“And how long have you been training to be a prat, my Lord?”

my thoughts:

They just have everything I love in a ship; snark and a bit of enemies/rivals, friends to lovers, soulmates, balancing each other out while also being very different, and a whole bunch of external and internal issues to give it the right amount of messy. Their roles put them into positions that enable them to understand each other in ways nobody else really can, and yet there are so many issues and secrets and differences that it’s not nearly that easy. But what I love most is that despite all that, despite destiny and prophecies and Camelot, they just love each other for who they are, and they’d give up everything for the other.

what makes me happy about them:

There’s so much humour in their relationship, and I adore their banter, on top of all that devotion. I think all that is what makes it so easy to throw them in any kind of universe, and the gist of their relationship still works perfectly.

what makes me sad about them:

For one, obviously the ending, even though I love it (I’m just a sucker for angst tbh). But also, just all the pressure that’s on both of them, and with how much shit they have to deal from too many sides. One of the truly tragic things about them imo is that so often, you think “If only you could actually be honest with each other, you’d be able to support each other so well,” and at the same time, it makes so much sense why they can’t “just” be honest with each other.

things done in fanfic that annoys me:

When Merlin’s kind of a pushover or too apologetic; when Arthur’s made out to be nothing but a bully and lacks depth; when the power-dynamics and the weight of secrets is ignored or glossed over; generally (not only in fanfic), one thing that bugs me is the refusal to acknowledge that Merlin had every right to hide his magic, and yet Arthur has every right to be hurt about being lied to by someone he trusts so much. It’s not mutually exclusive.

things I look for in fanfic:

I love when that conflict above is really explored and worked with. I generally love magic reveals a lot, especially when it serves to get Arthur to move away from Uther, and how they deal with all the revelations of the things Merlin has done. I want to see all the devotion and struggle and how they come out stronger on the other side.

who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other:

Merlin: Leon, Mithian Arthur: I said this before, but Arthur’s one of the few people that I don’t really vibe with in any other ship. No idea why, but it is what it is 🤷

my happily ever after for them:

Either Arthur survives Camlann and they rule Camelot and Albion for years to come, or they get to leave it all behind and roam the land before settling down on a nice little farm; screw destiny.

who is the big spoon/little spoon:

Merlin’s the big spoon.

what is their favorite non-sexual activity:

I have this headcanon that they read to each other, regardless if canon or modern fics. They just curl up somewhere and swap the book every chapter, or just one of them reads while the other listens if one of them is in need of comfort. 

send me a character or a ship and I’ll tell you what I think

[lit-in-thy-heart]

literally so many scenes came to mind from your fics but I have to say the one that I immediately thought of was in forget-me-nots when Lancelot asks merlin to make him flowers and merlin makes a strawberry by mistake and says something like three years too late

that took my breath away the first time I read it 😭

and then they make flowers crowns and Lancelot draws them and its just got such a lovely gentle feel to it.

of course its immediately followed by gwaine giving a "a knife for each of his murder boyfriends" which is also iconic 😂 I just love that whole scene <3

tysm for the ask 💕💕

the fact that you've remembered the dialogue exactly absolutely does not make me want to tear up a little i don't know what you mean :')

they just deserve all the flower crowns in the world and the domesticity and peace and casual magic and urgh here i go thinking 'bout them again 😭 this scene was inspired by @little-ligi who helped me out when i got severely stuck and didn't know where to go next and it is one of my favourites of this fic, with everything that they should have had in the show...

ahhh painter lancelot my beloved... and i am once again thinking about your beautiful edit <3

there should have been more knives in the show too. merlin so should have had a knife as a treat

strawberries and flowers:

Gwaine’s frown had deepened and travelled up to his forehead. ‘Hang on, can someone catch me up?’

‘Merlin was using magic to change the shape of the clouds to wind you up.’

‘Merlin!’ Gwaine launched himself at the warlock and pushed him into Lancelot’s lap. ‘You little shit! You’re going to make it up to me.’

Merlin, with his wrists pinned to Lancelot’s legs by Gwaine’s hands, looked up at the latter defiantly. ‘Make me.’

With a smirk, Gwaine kissed him on the mouth and, laughing, Lancelot levered himself down so he was leaning on one elbow. If Merlin was able to resist that, then he would be in awe. Gwaine always knew exactly how to use his tongue to get what he wanted. He’d done it many a time to Lancelot, particularly when he was after a certain weapon that Lancelot had also been eyeing up in training. For Leon’s sake, Lancelot had started letting Gwaine pick first and fighting over it out of sight.

Merlin, however, had succumbed to Gwaine’s mouth. Still lying on Lancelot, he pushed Gwaine away and titled his head. ‘What do you want then?’

‘Flowers.’

‘We’ve got plenty of flowers inside,’ Merlin said.

‘Yeah, but I want some from you.’

Grasping his meaning, Merlin sat up and glanced around. There was nobody in immediate sight and, crossing his legs, he brought his hands to his mouth and murmured an incantation. Lancelot, forever entranced by Merlin and casual magic, sat up and shuffled around to see better. When Merlin opened his hands, a small bunch of strawberries caught the sunlight.

His shoulders sagged. ‘Three years too late,’ he murmured, closing his eyes.

Gwaine and Lancelot exchanged a glance and Gwaine reached out for Merlin’s fingertips. ‘Are you alright?’

Raising his head, Merlin opened his eyes with a small smile. ‘Yeah. Yeah. I just—You like strawberries, Lance, don’t you?’

Nodding mutely, Lancelot accepted the berries that Merlin hastily deposited into his hands. ‘I thought you did as well?’

‘No, not me. They’re too bittersweet for my liking.’ Merlin dropped his gaze very quickly, returning to Gwaine. ‘I’ll get it right this time, I promise.’

Holding up his hands again, the warlock took a breath and whispered, revealing his palms and a deep red carnation. With something resembling an exaggerated bow, he presented the flower to Gwaine, who smiled and slid it behind Lancelot’s ear. Lancelot, softly munching on the strawberries, beamed back at him as best he could, transferring the smile onto Merlin as the latter made a comment about his angelic appearance.

Merlin, unable to resist the image of Lancelot with the carnation brushing against his hair and strawberry juice smeared across his lips, leaned forward and very gently kissed him like he’d kissed another who’d asked for strawberries so long ago. Beneath his mouth, Lancelot tasted like the burning red of sunsets and he gently withdrew, letting Gwaine sample the rich flavours.

Gwaine was careful not to knock the flower as he cupped Lancelot’s face in his hand, grinning helplessly against him. There was a tenderness in the way both Merlin and Lancelot kissed him, a tenderness that he had spent his whole life hoping for and had never quite managed to obtain. They held him like he was a precious thing, not a makeshift weapon to hurl around, as if he’d crumble under too much pressure. Though perhaps that was just because he had hit his head on a candelabra earlier that day. When he pulled back, he snatched a strawberry from Lancelot’s palm between his teeth and turned his head towards Merlin again.

Merlin, meanwhile, had been conjuring carnations between smiling like an idiot at the two people he loved. He had several in his lap and was weaving the stems together to form a crown. Gwaine shifted so he was lying on his stomach and leaning on his elbows, watching Merlin carefully. Gradually, a pattern was formed of white, pink, and red flowers as Merlin made a delicate circlet and placed it carefully on Gwaine’s head. As Gwaine smiled at him and gingerly rolled over, resting his head in Merlin’s lap in such a way so as not to crush the flowers, Merlin leaned down and kissed him.

Now it was Lancelot smiling like an idiot at the two people he loved.

He reached out for his satchel and shuffled a little further back to lean against a tree. Glancing down, he untied the strings around the leather journal and slipped out a blank leaf, rummaging around in his satchel for a stick of charcoal. Then, Lancelot looked up again, and began to sketch.

Merlin was very much enjoying the soft weight of Gwaine’s head in his lap. He was entranced by the subtle movements of his mouth as he caught Merlin up with all of the shenanigans of the past week that he hadn’t already heard from Arthur as Merlin’s fingers absent-mindedly moved along Gwaine’s exposed collarbone. He was faintly aware of a discreet scratching and looked up, eyes snagging on Lancelot. Concealing a smile, he reassumed the position he’d been to make the task easier for Lancelot. Lancelot deserved to be draped in nature’s hues himself, but neither Merlin nor Gwaine had a clue how to capture his ethereal form with such accuracy.

murder boyfriends:

Feeling something hard press against him as he shifted slightly, Gwaine lifted his jacket over his head and saw two objects that he’d forgotten he’d left in the inner pocket. Sliding up, he sat in Merlin’s lap and leaned against him as he withdrew the offending objects.

The flames stretched across Merlin’s fingers flickered out as he looked at Gwaine with interest. ‘What have you got there?’

‘A knife,’ Gwaine replied, opening his palm.

Lancelot had thrown down his drawing and scrambled over to the two of them. ‘No.’

‘No what?’ asked Merlin innocently.

Lancelot looked at Gwaine as he spoke. ‘We are not teaching Merlin how to use a knife out here.’

‘Oh, no,’ Gwaine agreed. ‘As much of a rebel as I am, I am not one to endorse the vandalism of nature.’

Breathing a sigh of relief, Lancelot moved to return to the tree he had been leaning against when Merlin held out his arms. ‘Come and sit here, we miss you.’

‘I’m only six feet away,’ Lancelot said with a soft smile.

He made the mistake of looking at both Gwaine and Merlin for several moments longer and, relenting, gathered his materials and returned to the two of them. Obligingly, Gwaine stretched out his legs and Lancelot rested his head on his thighs, drawing his knees towards his chest to act as a worktop for his painting. Merlin sent a warm breeze over to him and Lancelot looked around, the carnation still peeking out behind his ear, to blow him a kiss.

Gwaine, now everyone was settled, handed one knife to Merlin and slid a second across the grass towards Lancelot. ‘A knife each for my murder boyfriends.’

Putting down the painting for the moment, Lancelot picked up the weapon and unsheathed it. The blade stuck temporarily before breaking free from the casing and he turned it over in his hand. ‘What’s brought this on?’

‘The best gift I can give you both is protection until my dying breath. But sometimes I’m not always there. And I thought, what with Morgana being out there, you could use a weapon to have on you just in case an attack comes unexpectedly. Also Gwen wants her sewing scissors back, Merlin. And a knife is much more effective for stabbing.’

Merlin looked down at him. ‘Do you have one?’

Gwaine shook his foot – and Lancelot in the process ��� in response. ‘Always carry one in my boot. Just in case.’

Sheathing the weapon, Lancelot inched closer to Gwaine. ‘The best gift you can give us is yourself.’

‘Which I have given you all of, many times over,’ Gwaine quietly said.

‘We know,’ Merlin whispered with the breeze. ‘And we are eternally appreciative of that. And thank you for the knife, it’s almost as beautiful as you are.’

Lancelot’s fingers found Gwaine’s cheek and Merlin’s chin as he drew towards them, smearing paint across their skin like they were both blank canvases to sketch the song of his heart on. ‘I can offer you both nothing but the fierce passion you encourage me to wield and the sword in my hand. Well, the sword I usually have in my hand.’

‘And as this seems to be a group activity now,’ Merlin murmured, ‘I can only offer you the oath that I will keep you both safe or die alongside you.’

As Gwaine pulled himself up, the three of them leaned in together to touch foreheads once more, their faces smudged with smiles and paint and the slow death of the sun.

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Hi! I just read the new rec list and I LOVED seeing two of my favorite Leon/Merlin fics. It's a really cool rare pair and I love the parallels they share a non-official mentors to Arthur. There aren't many fics of them though, so would you be interested in writing some yourself? And is that something you already plan to do or would it be something you'd only do if requested (I do realize that your list of focus to write is very large). Love your work!

(My BBC Merlin Rec List)

AAH thank you @a-visit-to-the-shire !!!

To be honest, I haven't had any specific Merlin/Leon ideas, but I definitely wouldn't be opposed to writing it, because it's such a fun ship!! One of the prompts I have to be added to The List on my next update is a Merlin/Elyan idea (another criminally underrated ship) :)

Y'all are more than welcome to send in specific ship requests!!! I'm pretty much open to anything. I guess I haven't really given y'all any request rules so.... no incest or underage relationships and I don't write smut?? I'm more than happy to write other triggering subjects (though, as a given, nothing to do with sexual abuse would be graphic in ANY way). I wouldn't write Mordred with anyone because... he's babey. I normally avoid Mordred/anyone fics at all costs, and the ones on my Rec List are very rare exceptions.

Also, give as many details as you like, if there's any specific dialogue or scene that you'd like included, feel free to let me know (though it might not end up exactly like you wanted). But please send at least a rough plot idea, even if it's super vague like "they go for a picnic and it rains", but I wouldn't be able to work off of "Merwaine fluff" or anything like that.

After I've written four or five more fics from The List, I'll update it with everything new. I've just counted them, I think there'll be around 16 (AHHHH!!) new prompts on the list when I update (both my ideas and from my inbox), though I will likely also be crossing off some prompts that I'm not as excited about any more (I apologise if that disappoints anyone, but I have a very short attention span, so my brains leaves things behind really quickly and I struggle to focus on them😅)

~

I'm currently writing #35 from This List, after that it'll be either #34, OR a Fae!Merlin (happy ending) idea that I have bouncing around in my head that isn't on the list :D

[onceandfuturehimbo]

do you read fics bc i desperately need some wholesome merthur reccs

Why yes I do in fact read fics, I say as I admire the never-ending row of open ao3 tabs on my laptop. 😌

I’ll go ahead and add a read more because I always tend to ramble a lot 🙈You’ll find some fic recs buried in the midst of my incessant chatter under the cut ✨

Since I don’t know how specifically wholesome you’d like the fics to be, and I was promptly overthinking everything, in the end I just decided to go with no-angst-in-sight wholesome, so hopefully you’ll enjoy my selection ✌️

[Also, if you’re looking for merlin fics in general you should check out the beautifully organized @merlinfic tags page, where you can find all the fics your heart desires. Or you could consider joining the @merlin-fic-server on discord, also incredibly organized, and with many other people who can help you find whatever you need]

Now without further ado, here are some of my recs (in no particular order):

Missing the mark by @schweetheart (2750 words) - When Arthur realises that his 'insults' to Merlin lack a certain something, he resolves to stop comparing his manservant to cute, fluffy things and come up with a way to properly express his exasperation. This turns out to be much more difficult than it sounds.  ↳ The summary speaks for itself tbh Arthur trying to pretend he doesn’t have feelings for merlin and failing spectacularly is what I’m here for. 

Found a friend by helloearthlings (2363 words) - Leon gives an extremely drunk Arthur a ride home.An extremely drunk Arthur who will not shut up about Merlin. (outsider pov, modern au) ↳ I live for outsider pov fics and affectionate!arthur is so so cute omg

The magic of love by platonic_boner (4194 words) - Arthur repeals the ban on magic and expects Merlin's undying gratitude, but Merlin acts like nothing has changed. Clearly Arthur's only recourse is to annoy, bully, trick, and otherwise coerce Merlin into openly using sorcery.  ↳ Two pining clotpoles. Nothing more needs to be said.

Coming home by @supercalvin (2330 words) - Midshipman Percival Troyes watches his fellow sailors reunite with their loved ones after nine months on the HMS Albion. (outsider pov, modern au, military au) ↳ Back at it again with another outsider pov fic. Incredibly soft and with amazing characterization. I’ve read it so many times omg (also features some perwaine)

This dance of days by kianspo (8090 words) - In which people get married, Arthur is confused a lot, Uther gives relationship advice, and Merlin isn’t scared, except when he is, but only a little bit. Also Merlin steals things, and Gwaine is up to no good. (modern au) ↳ I love this fic so much, their relationship is so well written and they’re so head over heels for each other I melt in a puddle of heart eyes every time I read it

Would it be okay if I came home to you? by @shut-up-merlin (1022 words) - The day has finally arrived and Arthur couldn't be happier. This is it. This is the day he's finally getting married to the love of his life. His Merlin. (modern au) ↳ Wedding! Fic! Fluff and more fluff with a side of fluff, aka right up my alley

How it was supposed to be by @nextstopparis​ (4956 words) - “But,” Merlin continues anyway, because he truly sucks at being a servant, “anyway. The hunt last week was supposed to get you out of it, except it didn’t work, so. I was wondering if you wanted to just go out for a ride, just us, with nothing important to do?”  ↳ Okay so this one was inspired by a tsoa scene, so when I first read it I had prepared myself for heartbreak of the highest order, but it’s so incredibly sweet and their dynamic is spot on

Three tasks by syllic (30882 words) - Arthur is the Royal Arbiter for Suitable Suitors' Disputes. He (and his trusty companion, the golden-dragon-tasselled hat) alone can determine who is fit to woo royal servants and other assorted courtiers in Uther's court.  ↳ An absolute fave since I joined the fandom basically. I’ve read this a thousand times and I’ll never tire of it

Warm and real and bright by ariadne_odair (2034 words) - In which: Lord Arthur Pendragon is courting one Merlin Emrys, Arthur is absolutely not pining whilst Merlin is away, and Gwaine gives advice that is (very) occasionally useful. (regency au)  ↳ The merthur regency au I didn’t know I needed

When the truth comes out by ingberry (1334 words) - When Arthur wakes up from surgery, completely loopy from the anesthetics, he doesn’t recognise Merlin, but thinks he's really quite lovely. (modern au) ↳ I love these kinds of fics omg it’s about the tenderness

But these are only a few of the MANY amazing merthur fics you can find out there, honestly this fandom is blessed by an incredible amount of talented writers I am constantly in awe 🤩

I tried to limit myself to no angst at all so this barely scratches the surface of my faves, and considering the sheer number of open tabs I have I definitely missed some (also I apparently really need to organize my bookmarks bc it’s getting way out of hand). So if you're craving even more fics be sure to check the blogs I linked and also the other works by these lovely authors because they have so many more amazing fics 🥰 Or you can always message me again for more recs, I always love excuses to reread my faves lol  

So I hope these were sufficient, if anyone has any more I forgot to add feel free to link them in the notes 👀👀

If you’ve reached this far congrats for being able to resist my ramblings 😂💀 as a bonus here’s the gbbo meme I sent in the merlin fic server because I was worried I’d select fics that weren’t wholesome enough:

[merlinpetpeeves]

Breaking for the holidays!

Hey all! So, now that Christmas Eve has brought me to a nicely rounded multiple of five, I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be taking a few days off for Christmas (possibly extending through to the new year).

There are a few more submissions sitting in my inbox, so those will be posted once I return. If you have more in the meantime, however, feel free to keep ‘em coming!

Also, I’ve had an awful lot of Anon messages in the past week or so, so responses to those are under the cut:

Re: Peeve 432:

It's been established that magic is something you're born with but is seen as something you choose. That's one of the reasons why the Purge is so bad and why most of the fandom considers magic as an allegory for homosexuality. Morgana's whole introduction to her magic literally tackled this. I believe what Gaius said to Merlin in the first episode was either Gaius being ignorant about the nature of magic and believing it to be a choice (unlikely, but still possible I'd argue), or he was talking about Merlin's innate control over his magic being impossible, especially when Merlin was a baby. I think Merlin's usage of instinctive nonverbal magic from infancy/childhood is what distinguishes him from other magic users (aside from his sheer raw power, of course). both Morgana and Mordred, when we first see them use magic, had explosive magic that was triggered by their emotions. Morgana, particularly, had to learn from Morgause to control and use it, while Merlin said he always knew how to move objects with his magic.

This was actually in response to a submission, not to my own personal Peeve, so I wasn’t sure what to do with your comments, but this post gave me a good chance so: I don’t agree that Gaius was showing ignorance or a lack of knowledge in the first episode. It’s my understanding that different people come to magic in different ways. Gilli, for example, couldn’t really use magic without the external aid of his ring. Some seem to learn purely through study. Others, like Morgana and Mordred, develop magic over time (I don’t count this as being ‘Born with Magic’ in the sense that the show uses that phrase, but more as eventually developing a latent ability, in a similar (albeit more extreme) way to how one might develop freckles, for example), but can’t do complex things with it without training. Other than that, for those people, it seems to emerge (an a limited manner) in times of extreme stress or great concentration. Merlin, however, is the only one to be described as being ‘Born with Magic,’ and is the only person for whom it is seen to function as essentially an extension of himself- which is what Gaius appears to be commenting on in 1.01. No other magic-user would have been able to pause that water without even so much as thinking about it. So I think, with this, it just comes down to a difference in what we term as fitting under the phrase “Born with Magic.” And this, I think, is why people in fics often make the distinction between ‘sorcerer’ and ‘warlock,’ while saying that Merlin is essentially a ‘warlock plus.’ Warlock being the closest word to describe him, but him being on a distinct tier as the only person ever to have literally been born with his abilities. (Hopefully my rambles make some sort of sense. Lol.)

Praise: "And you, Uther, you will go to hell." >> See Praise 332

Is there a specific reason you have Arthur, Merlin, Gwen, Elyan, and Leon?? Or am I just reading too much into it?

Yes and no? I originally made this super long banner with loads of characters. Arthur and Merlin were near the centre because they’re the main characters. Gwen, Merlin and Elyan were the centre because I love them so much, and everyone else was in kind of a random order around them based on whose pics I searched for first. It looked dumb when uploaded, so I cut it down to just the central five. Then, when I made MerlinPetPraises, I just liked the idea of having the same people on both (and I’m super fond of Leon’s giddy little geek-out over the crossbows, so no regrets. Lol).

Why didn't Alator throw away the note from Finna? Just left it in his chambers? Where it could and was found?  >> See Peeve 175

Do you ignore asks that aren't peeves/praises?

Again, yes and no? In a way? Like, I’ll read them, of course, but if it’s just a simple comment (especially on a submission), then I prefer not to disrupt the flow of the blog, if that makes sense? I much prefer to reply to people in person, which is part of the reason (along with it making it muuuuch easier for me to ask for clarifications re:submissions) that I prefer people message off of anon. I know that at least one person (not sure if it’s you) sends thing via anon because they don’t have an account, though, which is the main reason I haven’t blocked anon submissions entirely. If it’s a comment about a mistake in a post, then I’ll post a retraction, but other than that I kind of have to play it by ear based on the content of the ask. After all, I’m really not sure how people would feel about me constantly breaking up a simple blog format with long and rambly posts like this one. Lol. (Honestly, I don’t receive many non-submission asks, though. If I did, I might have just made a third side blog just for that to avoid breaking the flow.)

I know there was a pet praise about how clever Gwen was and I agree. I just wish we got to see more of that in the early seasons.

Faaaairly sure this is just a comment and not a submission? In which case, I genuinely don’t know how to respond except to say that I think Gwen had lots of moments in the earlier series where she showed how clever she is. The main difference that I can see is that, by S5, she’s much more self-assured and willing to share those opinions without fear of judgement. (But yes. More Gwen is always of the good. Lol.)

[bre-meister]

could you write something about claire comforting leon after vendetta? loving your cleon fics! 😊

So this kind of combined with a fic I was already in the process of writing. Then I re watched Vendetta and it grew even more. I’m still trying to decide if I want to make it a super long one-shot or a multi chap. yet so here, take this sneak peek to tie you over until then! ( Also I don’t have a title for this yet lol, suggestions are welcome). Writing under the cut but be warned it is super angsty and is heavily focused on the topic of addiction so if that is a trigger for you please do not read this. ( Also also, writing addiction is super hard ya’ll)

It’s an inarguable fact that the mission went south. Further than south actually...Leon wasn’t sure if there was an actual word or phrase for how things ended. They’d been so close….so close. But so close doesn’t mean shit when you essentially lead a whole team of agents to their death.

Deep down Leon knows it wasn’t really his fault - they’ ed been ratted out and on top of that they were all just doing their jobs. Jobs for which everyone knew the risks but accepted them anyway. He tries to remind himself that he barely made it home at all - a fact that was becoming scarily too common. But at the end of the day, when the facts were laid bare, it was impossible for him to ignore his guilt due to his actions, or lack of, in what transpired. Leon got to go home, no matter how emotionally or physically battered, he’s home surrounded by his wife and his two little girls. Several of his team members had families - wive, husbands, and kids that will never get to see them again.

Claire tells him every night in bed as she holds him tight - not to break him but to hold him together - that he did everything he could. That he always does everything he can but sometimes, they just can’t save everyone. But he wants to. He desperately wants to. It’s why he became a police officer, why he specifically requested to be placed in Raccoon, why he drove all the way to a doomed city despite being told to stay away. It’s why he continues to help Ada no matter her misguided morals and sense of self-preservation. Most importantly, it’s why he even began his current job - to protect Sherry. He’d do anything for that girl. In a way, she was his first daughter.

So, he tries to believe what his wife tells him. He tried to bury himself in his work like always, something that has lead to many a disagreement between him and Claire. That only took him so far considering a few weeks after coming home he received a call from Hunnigan informing him that he was being given “vacation” to recover after such a taxing mission - in reality, he knew to was more because of his resurfacing self- destructive and obsessive behavior. When that fell through he began to live and breathe his daughters even more so than usual. That only takes him so far considering, during the day, Isabelle was at school, Claire had work, and little Olivia spent the day at daycare. Technically, now that he was home all the time, Liv didn’t have to go but both he and Claire agreed that no matter how much the little girl would prefer to stay home with Daddy it would be better not to interrupt her routine. His “vacation” really is only temporary and eventually, the daycare would have to start again which means the fight to get Olivia to attend would start again and that was something both parents would rather avoid.

 So, with a guilty conscious and an empty house, Leon did the only thing he could think of - drinking. Alcohol was his main crutch back in the day before he reconnected with Claire. It had taken a good while for him to turn his life around back then and he’s not proud of himself for re-lapsing but in this moment of weakness with no one to stop him…

That’s a lie and you know it. You have plenty of reasons not to do it. Three in fact. They’ll be home soon...do you really want them to see you like this?

 No. The answer was always no. Of course, he didn’t want his family to see him like this and of course, they were a dam good reason to turn away from the bottle. But, one thing Leon has learned in his life is that what should be easy hardly ever is. He doesn’t want his daughters to see him like this so, his solution? Hideaway, keep to himself. 

Separating himself from his family seemed like a good solution but as he spends more and more time away from them, separated by a wall of his own creation, he feels worse. Leon constantly found himself asking, over and over why he does what he does, why he keeps going. Claire, Isabelle, and Olivia were always the answer to those questions so the distance slowly building in their relationships only aided in worsening his guilt and anxieties. So he leans even harder on the Scotch. This means he separates himself even more - a vicious cycle that he can’t see an end to. 

When did you start asking the same questions about your personal life that you did your work? There was supposed to be a separation. Not anymore. Look what you’re doing to yourself, you’re miserable. Your family is miserable. Is that what you want? 

No. The answer is always no. He doesn’t mean to hurt them but he is. Which is why Claire’s words shouldn’t have been surprising.

“You need to leave.”

“What?” He couldn’t have heard her right.

 “I’m serious Leon. I don’t want to have to do this but you have left me no choice. Your complete and utter...disregard for yourself - I don’t want the girls to have to see this. They idolize you and currently, this is killing them to see you like this. Hell, it’s killing me!”

Silence is the only answer he can give her. Currently, his mind is to clouded to argue, and quite frankly, he doesn’t want to.

“Nothing. You have nothing to say? After everything we’ve been through?”

“Angel, I -” She cut him off before he could finish. Honestly, he didn’t know how he was going to finish.

“No, don’t Angel me. That would only make this harder. Look I know addiction is complicated and it’s not an easy thing to conquer by any means. I want to help you but right now I have to put our daughter’s first. I’ll help you all that I can but you need to leave until you decide you want help.”

“Claire, I do but... I don’t like what I’m becoming but I can’t. I don’t - “

“If you really mean that you’d be able to properly communicate it with me. Until then you need to go find out what the hell it is you want from life. I love you, Leon. The girls love you too, you’re their Daddy but you have to start making an effort to at least try.”

At that she grabs his face, gently - Claire is always gentle with him - and she kisses him. It feels like a goodbye. Or at least, it should. In reality, he just feels numb. When they break apart she holds him tight, with the hope that maybe, if she holds tight enough, she can keep him together.

“Take some time.” she says, “You just need some time for yourself to find out what you need. And once you do I’ll be here to help you get it.”

And that was that. He’d held her tight as well and then he packed a bag and left. Leon said his goodbyes to his daughters that night as they slept. When they awoke he would be gone and there would be tears but he didn’t have it in him in his current state to face them in their little faces and explain why he had to go away for a little bit.

 He was a good man once, Claire said he still was, that he had just lost his way for a little bit. He hopes she’s right and that he can become the man that he was once - the husband and the father that he yearns to be.

 So, he takes some time to himself in a quaint town in Colorado. Or at least he tried to until the BSAA’s Golden Boy and Doctor High Hopes jacked his “vacation”.

[alolanrain]

Hey! It's the anon once again. I was finally able to see your post once I got the Tumblr app. I want to thank you. You and your ideas got me back in the Pokemon fandom and actually inspired me to work on my own Pokemon fanfic. I also have some questions. What do you think of Ash? Who's your favorite and least characters from each game/anime? What's your favorite pairing? Some of your favorite headcanons? Why do you hate Rose so much? (Haven't played SWSH)

I’m so happy that you were able to see it!!! And I’m happy that my work and ideas brought i you ou back! And wnsnans I CAN’T WAIT TO READ THE FIC!!!!

What do you think of Ash?

I’ve always seen myself in Ash. He reminded me of a child with severe ADHD, and me a child with severe ADHD loved having a character I can somewhat relate to than just more than girl characters. I also love how close he is with his Pokémon, and how he treats them very differently from a lot of trainers. Along with how he never actually forces them to evolve, it’s always up to them if they truly want to do that. 

What is your favorite/least favorite character from each Game/anime?

(I’ll do the games another time but I’m sticking with the Anime for now!!!)

Gen 1

Fav: Ash 👀 which is obvious

Dis: Lance surprisingly, I liked him a lot better when he showed up in Johto and during the last fight in Hoenn. But never liked him to begin with.

Gen 2

Fave: Brock, Ash actually gave me some annoyance during Gen 2 and Brocks Normal antics with pretty girls didn’t really upset me like it usually does

Dis: Misty, for the soul fact I didn’t like her voice. It reminded me to much of one of my old pre school teachers that actually hated me so I just associated Misty with her until after the Sinnoh arc

Gen 3

Fav: May, she reminded me a lot like Ash and also with having a little brother. I have two little sisters so I connected more with May

Dis: Wallace. Fuckin’ Wallace for the reason being I hated his fucking outfit 

Gen 4

Fav: Cynthia, she wanted to fight Gods and I love her

Dis: mix up between Paul and Barry for reasons very blatant

Gen 5

Fav: Ash back at it again because Cilan and Iris were to fucking annoying

Dis: Iris and Alder. It’s a tie between the two. Alder because he’s a Bumbling idiot and doesn’t deserve the title of Himbo. And I took personal offense every time Iris called Ash a kid when he ended up doing a small thing wrong or doing something that he just Dose because he’s Ash.

Gen 6

fav: Professor Sycamore, when he found out who the mask Blaziken was it made me smile a lot because the Professor also kept the secret to himself for so long

Dis: Serena, she was a good character and loved by many, I respect that. Her voice was annoying, along with Bonnie but I had a weird connection to her since my sisters loved her, and how blantant she was with Ash. Even though it was his own fault for not seeing the obvious fucking clues

Gen 7

Fav: Professor Kukui and Ash, FAMILY BOND!!!!

Dis: Faba. Do I even have to explain him?

Gen 8

(Ik, IK it’s barley even out tho)

Fav: I’m having a feeling I’ll love Marnie if she comes to the anime. But for now it’s Ash, the art style is amazing and the scene with Lugia? B L E S S

Dis: Chairman Rose and Oleana, I know their not in the anime yet but I still can’t help myself.

What’s your favorite pairing?

Its a toss up between four right now.

Palletshipping- it was literally the second ship I got into and was also another reason for me to continue watching Pokémon after Gen 1 because my friend hinted that Ash and Gary made up, somewhat, after the Johto conference. So it’s an oldy but a goodie and I enjoy a lot of smaller headcanons about them.

Originalshipping- it was, I think, my fifth ship? I loved watching my older brothers play the first Pokémon games every Christmas Eve after dinner at my dads. It was a tradition that still goes on today. But besides that, I love stoic and silent Red with blabber mouth and energetic Green. I screamed when I found out they were going to be at the battle tree in the Alola Sun and Moon game.

(I blame @hiddenbyfaeries for the next two because she talked/screamed with/at me about them)

Ash/Hau/Gladion- their cute separate and together. And Hau and Gladion has a lot of good emotions in the game while both had very good episodes with Ash in the anime. Gladion and Hau just didn’t have any together from my recollection.

Leon/Ash/Raihan- I never stated anything about this in a post. But I will clarify that I mean Leon/OLDER!Ash/Raihan, for Ash would technicaly be around 20-something if the anime would let him age up instead of staying ten. But it’s slowly climbing higher in my heart of ships.

Favorite headcanons?

- Ash is strong, crazy strong. But his body doesn’t shown it, he still has soft baby fat and slightly round edges. Yet he can still chuck you to the moon if he puts enough effort into it

- my Tattoo!AU in general, which I’ll expand later on

- Brock is still the best cook to Ash, even when he gets older and all. Brock is the best

- Gary has a natural attraction to Dark and Fairy types. So when he goes to Kalos for a few month working under Professor Sycamore he ends up getting a sylveon, shiny or not is your chose to interpret

- Cynthia likes watching Dawn during contests, just like Diantha likes watching Serena in her contests

- ^^^ Diantha was slightly sad that Serena wasn’t going to enter in the Kalos contests. But she did warn Wallace about how good Serena is and got the older man to watch some of the girls old competitions. Wallace ends up falling in love with the girl and some how ends up becoming her pseudo weird ass uncle

-^^^^ she calls up May, who Ash sent her phone number to because he doesn’t want to approach Serena yet because of the kiss, and asks about Wallace

- May: *Sighs* he unofficially adopted you?

Serena: *panicked* he’s asking me to call him Uncle Wall!?

May: *seriouse* welcome to the family, you can’t escape

- both Gary and Ash melt when you pet their hair, like really get into it and lightly scratching their skulls. Their puddles of love and whine and complain when you stop.

- this is more canon I believe than a headcanon, but Professor Oak was an Ice type trainer before becoming a Pokémon Professor. So imagine him with an Alolan Ninetails

Why do you hate Rose so much?

I don’t have SWSH either, I watched my little cousins and older brothers play it on the Tv. I had an inkling of Rose since he was first introduced before the game. Something just bagged at the back of my head and grew as more content came out. This is the first time we’re dealing with a Chairman of the League in general, it’s usuajust the Champion that you see running it (or in Alola’s case, Professor Kukui). So having an actual Chairman just set off my warnings signs and I ended up being right that he was the bad guy. Oleana also didn’t help his image to me. But I’ve also felt with people like him and they were all very condescending to me, so just seeing him made my blood fucking boil.

[believerindaydreams]

in which some metafictional stuff happens

Inspired by some chat I was having with @sybilius and also an amazing ‘80s AU fic by @morgan-arthur although this can’t actually be blamed on either of them. Not least because it seems to be set in the ‘70s sometime instead.

so anyway, here’s a thing where Blondie and Tuco are draft-dodging, card-playing hustlers, and wow did I get involved in building up the situation for this. Also some racial stuff, hence the tagging. 

(edit: Tumblr in its infinite wisdom blocks the fic when I had the tagging in. I’m of the opinion that any fic where the POC protagonist is contemplating their own participation in screwed-up racial dynamics for the sake of pulling a fast one ought to be tagged racism, but I also want people to actually be able to read the thing, so no tagging.)

Ugh. 

Anyway, I feel that you can’t have Leone if the GBU characters are wandering around, so...

“Badlands,” Blondie says, holding the grey film can easily, as if it weighs no more than a dream; and Tuco privately seethes. 

They’ve been so careful about this little hustle, never entering a town together or winning too much from the same people. Blondie will show up at a bar’s back room first, play a few hands, let everyone there get a sense of him as a discreet, careful player, with a damn-near perfect poker face. 

Enter the sucker: one loud-mouthed, louder-dressed Mexican, twirling a mustache and flashing a roll (hundreds, wrapped around ones). Sometimes the other players will play it straight, and those nights they more or less break even. Other times, well...maybe he takes his time ordering the tequila, and gets to the table to find too many smiles, quiet sniggers behind the cards. And a couple too-good-to-be-true rounds to be sure of roping him in, with Blondie betting the most. 

So he wins those, and takes all the money, and tells them he’s quitting while he’s ahead. With a free round of tequila for everybody, to show there’s no hard feelings. If that’s not good enough, he has his gun; and there’s always Blondie’s if the situation got serious. So far they haven’t needed either, because the hustle they sell is never about the money. It’s something better, even more important, for the kind of men who hate the border and everything from south of it. Giving them the chance to look down on this cringing, incredibly superstitious foreigner who’d obviously love to play on, but santa maria, the Virgin Mary, she whispers in my ear and tells me no, go home now...  

(a joke in many layers; he’s from Brooklyn, not romantic Sonora, but even Blondie doesn’t know that part. There might be less dangerous ways of making a living; but none that won’t be just as insulting, Tuco figures. And the hours suit him fine.) 

Only apparently their reputation’s preceded them this time, because there’s no reason on earth that Bill Carson would just so happen to have a hot film print sitting in the trunk of his car. Blondie’s got next to no vices that Tuco’s ever noticed, but every man needs a couple, and his are Westerns. 

“Adequate stakes?“ Carson asks, with a hopeful, driving need in his voice- the jitteriness of a barely controlled addict, on something stronger than the whiskey he’s gulping like coke. Maybe there’s something to work with, then. If the stakes were worth it. 

“An old film,” Tuco says dismissively. “You tell me what I want with an old film, eh?”

“Badlands is New Hollywood,” Blondie says, not letting go to Carson’s pleading tug. “They’d never made anything like this before.”

Now that’s simply not true, Tuco’s well aware; he can date and place their progress across the country simply by what movie was playing when. 1967, Texas, Bonnie and Clyde. 1968, Colorado, and such a handsome bastard in Ace High. By 1969 they’d reached Las Vegas in time for Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, and spent more time sneaking into theatres than counting cards, the way he remembers it. There have been plenty such films before. 

Then again, he doesn’t know what it is that Blondie’s looking for, every time they sit before that silver screen and watch the pictures flickering by. To him they’re just a tolerable way to pass the time, a chance to rest his feet and fill his belly with hot buttered popcorn; but for Blondie, movies are meat and drink and eucharist all rolled into one, a gaping hole in the world’s tightly woven net, a wound that leads out somewhere that everything is upside-down, and their petty struggles for one more win, the indifferent hamburgers at forgettable lunch counters, sweaty nights at plastic-wrapped motels, all become the stuff of legend. 

But Blondie does have such a fine poker face; and that makes it worthwhile putting up with his foibles. “All right, all right,” Tuco says, a little more impatiently than usual; and lays down the covering stake. 

They win. Of course they win; and Bill Carson watches them take his prize with a strange kind of satisfaction, a relish that makes Tuco’s flesh prickle. All gamblers say they’re in it to win; not all of them are, though, and it fills him with unease when they play a man who begs the world to take everything he has. 

“Fucker had it coming,” he says afterwards, in the night-cold air of the alley (desert air is cruel like that, he’d discovered early on, while pretending that he’d known it all along). “But no match for us, eh Blondie?”

That’s breaking ranks. Even now, standing in front of the battered station wagon that will lead them to the next town, and another and another, they are not supposed to talk of their connection- but Blondie merely shoves an elbow into his ribs, a lackluster motion with no energy behind it. Talking’s no use, the man’s transfixed. 

Tuco curses under his breath, lights a cigarette to warm his hands and curb frustrated appetites. They’d plotted this one for weeks, planning and quarreling by turns, how to dupe the famous spendthrift Carson. He’d been dreaming of a month of steak dinners, real hotels with pile carpeting, enough money to let them rest a while and not have to do any thinking at all. 

Instead they were taken in themselves, just as broke today as they were yesterday, with a head muzzy from too much tequila and his stomach crying out with hunger. He has to be drunk, Tuco concludes, or he’d never have let Blondie dictate terms; not when they could have held out for money or a car or something practical, not a damned film that they can’t even watch.

(Briefly, he envisions reaching out and pulling the narrow length of Blondie’s black necktie into a choking knot; and the image fills him with too much bleak satisfaction.)

“You there,” somebody calls. Standing at the edge of the alley, where the street lights can outline his silhouette to maximum effect; it’s a nice theatrical gesture, Tuco notes, and tucks that one away in his memory for later.  

“You want us to put out, you’d better be prepared to pay up!” If that won’t get Blondie’s attention, nothing will. It doesn’t. 

The interloper comes closer, and Tuco recognises him now; the fourth member of their poker quartet, the one who’s spoken even less than Blondie. His mouth moves more than Blondie’s, but his eyes are just as verboten. “I have something you two might be interested in.”

“We’re not,” Blondie says, dropping the precious film into his game bag; and Tuco watches him move it from hand to hand, ready to toss onto a soft bulging trash pile if the situation degenerates into a fight. 

Angel Eyes smiles, at the both of them, and Tuco wishes he wouldn’t. “I have a projector. Someplace quiet to watch it, too. Sounds to me like we need each other.”

Blondie considers, pronounces. “Done.”

“Hang on here,” Tuco says, more for the sake of the protest than anything else. “Blondie, it’s late, this is new territory for us. We need to find somewhere to sleep tonight, get out bearings and pick up some dinner.”

“I’ll take care of that,”  Angel Eyes says, an offer that’s halfway to a command. “Only fair recompense.”

“Do us both good,” Blondie says, now staring at Angel Eyes with that same lust he’d just been lavishing on a second-hand film can; and Tuco does not ask himself the source of that sudden raging heat that grips his body tight. Doesn’t ask what it means for their unspoken trust, if someone else can wedge a way between him and Blondie; doesn’t ask himself how long this deal with a devil can be expected to last, or how it’ll end. 

All he allows himself to know is that he’s warm now, and somebody’s offered them dinner, and just now, there’s nothing more he wants out of life. 

“Tuco will probably fall asleep, but never mind that, I’ll wake him up if he starts snoring,” Blondie says. 

There’s a flicker in Angel’s expression, then. “For a poker player, you sure don’t pick up on tells.” 

wouldn’t it be just my luck, to be the bystander in a tale of love at first sight? 

“It’s your call, Blondie,” Tuco says, letting the tension drip into his shaking voice (it’s cheap, and he’d make himself a damn sight cheaper, to hold what he has). “Who are you spending the night with, huh?”

“Who’s to say I can’t spend it with both you idiots?“

“And where do you get off,” Angel Eyes asks. “Calling me an idiot?”

“If you weren’t, you’d have won the film yourself and we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Blondie says. He takes one of his little cigars from a shirt pocket, lights and inhales. 

Not with the slightest trace of desire. There’s a devastating, effortless charm to it, the glorious self-sufficiency of a man who wants absolutely nothing from life, and will never need to ask. Illusion, the ideal poker face, perfect and complete. 

Tuco sucks in a breath at the sight, same as he always does; besides him, simultaneously, Angel Eyes does precisely the same. 

They don’t even need to look at each other, to share the next inexorable thought. 

That one’s going to be trouble.

[bastardnev]

That Guy Next Door Ch. 16 (Final)

 HHHHHHHHHHHooooookay i honestly can’t believe that we’re up to the Last Chapter Of This Fic. like i deadass cannot believe how quickly this all went

before i get into my usual Spiel i just wanted to say thanks real quick to everyone that’s read the fic up till this point. it means so much to me that ppl have been enjoyin it ❤️❤️❤️ (and i also wanna thank the ppl on mobile that are Not interested who’ve scrolled past each chapter on the off chance that the read more didn’t work dkjfgfjk)

WITH ALL THAT BEIN SAID:

tagging: @tylerblacks​ @joonhobi​ @rivela​ @aliciasfox @sailor-slam-dunk​@kidvoodoo​ @smolsammichu​ @simulated-heat​ @douglas-leon-michael​@1dluver13xx (lemme know if you wanna be added to my tag list!!)

Prev.: Ch. 1 ♡ Ch. 2 ♡ Ch. 3 ♡ Ch. 4 ♡ Ch. 5 ♡ Ch. 6 ♡ Ch. 7 ♡ Ch. 8 ♡ Ch. 9 ♡ Ch. 10 ♡ Ch. 11 ♡ Ch. 12 ♡ Ch. 13 ♡ Ch. 14 ♡ Ch. 15 ♡

Neville and Mustafa had been discussing their anniversary plans for a little while now, but that didn’t mean that the former was any less nervous when the big day finally arrived.

If anything, his knowledge of the conversation that they would be having was making him even more nervous. Far more than he probably should be, considering that this was supposed to be a fun day. Where he didn’t have to worry about anything.

Least of all inadvertently scaring Mustafa away, or freaking him out.

All that he needed to do was stick to his little plan, and everything should be fine. He’d been going over it in his mind for what felt like ages now. He knew what he was going to say, and he’d practiced it so many times that he’d lost count. It was fine. Everything was going to be fine.

He hoped.

The day was set to go according to the following itinerary: First, Neville would spend a good part of his morning making proper preparations. Everything needed to be just right, straight down to his outfit. (Wade had made a comment the other day about Neville most likely dressing as a dork on his anniversary. The spiteful side of Neville was determined to prove him wrong.) Then, later that evening, Mustafa would meet up with Neville at his house and have dinner with him and the rest of the family -- something that he admittedly was unsure about. Their initial plan had been to go out someplace to eat (Neville was far more fond of fancy restaurants when it wasn’t a tacky, love-centered national holiday), but it turned out that Jen and Daisy had different plans for the two of them.

After having planned it out for weeks -- apparently that was what they had been talking about during the nights when they’d stayed up way past their bedtimes -- they insisted that, seeing as it was such a big day, they wanted to do all the cooking. It was their anniversary, so why should they have to pay their hard-earned money to eat out someplace? (Neville wanted to say something about how he was the one that paid for the ingredients that they would be using to cook, but he kept that part to himself.)

And besides, Jen was on a mission to prove that she was almost an adult (“I’m almost eleven. Eleven! That’s two ones! Not one, two!”) and could handle such a lofty task. Neville knew damn well that when she got in one of these “grown-up” modes, it was difficult to get her out of it. It was better to just let her do as she pleased. Daisy, on the other hand, was primarily going along with it just so that Jen wouldn’t be the only one getting all the attention. All-in-all, it was business as usual with them.

Neville had at first been skeptical of their idea, as leaving a couple of children in charge of cooking an entire meal was risky for many reasons -- the main one being that he wasn’t in the mood to put out any fires that evening. That, and he was in a way looking forward to going out with Mustafa so they could have some time to themselves. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to spend time with his family -- he just believed that a couple should be able to have some private time on a night that was so important to them.

They managed to wear him down enough with their begging, however, and he figured that if he could convince Wade to lend them a hand then there was nothing to worry about. There would be some form of adult supervision -- much to Jen’s annoyance, but to Neville’s relief. And, he had to admit, he was curious to see what they would come up with. Their cooking skills were very limited, and as such so was the menu. Though he was predicting disaster, part of Neville wanted to see how this would all play out.

As such, one conversation with Mustafa later, it was officially decided that their anniversary would be spent at home with those closest to them. “Let’s hope we don’t end up getting food poisoning from this, though,” Neville added.

“If we do, then it’ll definitely be a night we don’t forget, right?” Mustafa replied with a little chuckle -- a nervous one, Neville had noted.

Of course, because nothing in Neville’s life could ever be simple, there was plenty of discourse over what exactly would be made. Neither he nor Mustafa really minded and had no real preference, but it had become a big argument starter with the children -- much like everything these days, now that he gave it some thought. Neville had received far more phone calls from home while he was at work than he’d have liked to, each one giving him a mini-heart attack and leading him to think that there was an emergency going on that required his attention.

But no, it was usually just Jen, insisting that Daisy was ‘abusing her power’ that she supposedly had by being the younger sibling, and she was trying to dictate what was cooked.

The truth was, she’d just said that she didn’t like green beans, and Jen took this as a personal attack.

From the moment that he’d woken up on the morning of the anniversary, Neville had had an odd feeling in his stomach. For the last couple of days he had been planning out exactly what he was going to say and when he would say it, so as to avoid being interrupted like he always seemed to be. Be it by adults, children, or birds, someone or something always took issue with him trying to have serious conversations.

Not this time.

Not when it’s this important.

Checking his phone after he’d rolled out of bed, Neville saw that Mustafa had already sent him a few texts, and he smiled at the sheer amount of heart emojis that were sent along as the final message.

 Resident Bear Fanatic: Happy anniversary!!

Resident Bear Fanatic: I love youuuuu

Me: Someone’s excited :)

Me: Happy anniversary to you too, Moose. I love you + I’ll see you later xx

 Taking a page out of Mustafa’s book, Neville also sent an entirely heart filled message, sending it off while a little voice in the back of his mind chastised him for it. He’d never been one to overuse emojis and preferred to use his words to communicate what he wanted to say, but Mustafa was a huge fan of the little things. Every conversation they had ended with some kind of emoji, even if it didn’t exactly fit what they were talking about. Mustafa was the only one who could get Neville to start over-sending them.

Man, Wade was right.

I really am head over heels for him.

Any hopes Neville had had for a quiet morning were dashed when he exited his bedroom and immediately heard the sounds of an argument brewing down in the kitchen. He didn’t think that the little chefs would be awake this early. Letting out a sigh, he made his way over the the stairs, Jen’s voice growing louder with every step he took. He could have easily just turned around and gone back into his room, but he knew he couldn’t leave Wade to deal with this fight all by himself. They’ll maul him. Again.

“She doesn’t like anything I wanna make!” He heard Jen yell, and he stopped to listen for a moment, sitting on the bottom-most step. “She’s only here to spite me!”

“Jen, be reasonable.” The next voice he heard was Wade’s. “Just because she doesn’t like something, that doesn’t mean she’s out to spite you.”

Wade clearly doesn’t know Daisy as well as he thinks he does. Neville mused to himself before going back to listening.

“But she conveniently hates everything that I suggest. I bet you could say the same thing as me, and she’d like it.”

“How do you know that?”

“When she wakes up, ask her if she wants to make a salad. Go ahead, I dare you.”

When she wakes up? Neville could have sworn she was already awake. Then again, if she had been awake, she’d probably be defending herself right about now. Neville had to wonder if Jen was up this early to make some sort of secret preparations so that her sister didn’t try to intervene for once.

“Alright, enough of the dares,” Neville finally spoke up, standing and entering the kitchen. “There’s no need to be fighting this much over dinner. There has to be something that you and Daisy can agree on.”

“I’m trying to find out what that is, but she’s being so difficult!” Jen insisted, crossing her arms and pouting. “She just says no to everything. She’s so immature. She’s almost an adult now.”

“Jen, she’s seven.” Her birthday had only passed a few weeks ago. She’d made almost as big of a deal about it as Jen did when she turned ten -- she’d even told Mustafa that she was ‘everyone’s lucky charm’. “I get that it can be frustrating, but you gotta remember that she’s still a kid. Be patient with her.”

“She needs to grow up already! I wasn’t like that when I was her age.”

Neville couldn’t help but give her a look that said, “Really?” at that little comment. Neville could recall many instances of her being intentionally difficult when she was Daisy’s age, but he kept that to himself, instead saying, “Try to work something out with her, please? Fighting solves nothing.”

“I’ll try…”

“Good.” He gave her a kiss on top of her head. “And I don’t want youse fighting when Mustafa comes over later.”

“Tell that to her.”

“I’ll tell her, and I’ll tell you again, too. We all need to be clear on that.” He pointed to Wade. “You, too.”

“What?” Wade was aghast. “What did I do to deserve a talking to? I’m just standin’ here.”

“Gee, I dunno, Mr. Interrogator. What did you do?”

As he finished saying this, Daisy came down the stairs and entered the room, looking groggy, still in her star-studded pajamas. “Mornin’, kiddo,” Neville greeted, ruffling her already messy hair. “You’re up early. Sleep well?”

“Mm…” She replied, leaning up against him.

“Got a big day ahead of you, don’t you? You all ready for tonight?”

“Hmm…” She nuzzled her face into his side, and he gave her a pat on the shoulder.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Neville said this while keeping an eye on Wade, who now had a look on his face. Like he was just dying to ask something.

“So, kid…” He started. “I was just wondering -- did you and Jen decide on what you were gonna make tonight?” At her lazy shrug, he continued, “Have you considered… salad?”

Suddenly, her eyes lit up, and she looked more awake. “That’s a great idea!!”

Neville didn’t say anything to this. Instead, upon hearing Jen’s sharp inhale, he braced himself for round two of the morning fight. And he wonders why he needs to be spoken to about being on his best behavior…

Throughout the day, Neville couldn’t help but get a sense of deja vu.

As he went through the motions of the day, he got the feeling that he’d done all of this before -- not in the sense that this was his typical weekend routine and he was used to it, but that every single thing he did was something he’d done one other time before.

Specifically, the first time that Mustafa came over to dinner.

Just as he’d done the first time and as he’d promised to do that morning, he’d spoken to the everyone about how they should be conducting themselves that evening. Jen and Daisy were still fighting literally right up until they’d been sat down on the couch. And likewise, everyone had also given the same response that they had last time -- they swore they’d be on their best behavior, and they promised that there wouldn’t be any arguments (or, in Wade’s case, impromptu interrogations) while Mustafa was visiting. They all wanted this night to go smoothly, and they wanted to make sure Neville and Mustafa had the best night possible.

And of course, just like before, they hadn’t stayed true to their word.

Neville wasn’t sure what he was expected.

Mustafa had barely been in the house for a few moments before Wade led him over to the couch, making casual conversation about this and that before launching into his latest cross-examination. Previously, he had been asking him about if he were truly fit to be dating Neville, but since the two had been together for quite literally a year at this point he had to come up with new questions, each one increasing in terms of ridiculousness.

“Is ‘Mustafa’ really your name?”

“It’s you guys’ one year anniversary? Are you positive it’s only been a year? Because I’m suspicious of that.”

“How old am I?” (“Wade, that has nothing to do with him! Why are you even asking that?” Neville protested.)

All Neville was able to do while this ridiculous questioning was going on was stand back and watch, growing more and more humiliated with each passing moment. Mustafa didn’t seem to mind -- in fact, he was joking around with Wade, apparently enjoying it and even firing back with a few questions of his own -- but that didn’t make Neville feel any better. Why is it that whenever I tell Wade to do something, he does the exact opposite? Once again, Neville was reminded of Wade’s reaction upon being told to act appropriately. He truly was genuinely shocked.

Neville had actually gotten the feeling that the girls were trying to keep their promise to him, but that was proving to be too difficult. In the end, they’d decided on an entirely vegetarian dinner (secretly to Neville’s relief, as he would admittedly be a little afraid to eat any meat they may have cooked -- or undercooked, for that matter). This didn’t appear like it would cause any controversy, and for awhile it didn’t. There was good food, good conversation, and it looked like it would be a good night as well.

That is, until Jen decided to bring up how difficult Daisy had been throughout the whole process.

“It was fun, but… I ended up doing most of the work,” she’d said, shooting a glaring her sister’s way. “Since someone didn’t want to be a team player.”

“Jen…” Neville said as a warning, but he knew it was already too late. Nothing he said was going to work. At least he tried.

“I was a team player!” Daisy insisted, forking clanging on the table as she tossed it down, causing everyone to jump. “Daddy, wasn’t I a team player?”

“Please just stop fighting…” As futile as it was, he was still trying to diffuse the situation. On a day as important to him and Mustafa as this, were they really about to see an all-out war? He looked at Mustafa apologetically, as he was about to witness his first real fight between the siblings.

“It took Wade suggesting that we make something just to get you to agree!”

“Woah, don’t bring my name into this,” Wade said in his own defense. “I’m just an innocent bystander!”

“But I’m not wrong! I told you that she’s always trying to go against me, and I proved it! I don’t get why no one will believe me!”

“Because you are wrong!” Daisy yelled. “I’m good!”

“You are not! If you’re so good, then why didn’t you help? You mostly just sat back and made me do all the work.”

“Because you wanted me to. You never asked me for help because you wanted to show you’re a grown-up!”

“Ladies, we had this discussion earlier, can we please drop it?” Neville rose his voice and attempted to speak over their yelling, but that didn’t work, and the fight continued.

Suddenly, he felt a light tap on his shoulder, and he looked at Mustafa. “You want me to help you out?” He asked. “I can take care of this.”

“Can you?”

“You’re forgetting that I’m breaking up fights between little kids on an almost daily basis whenever I’m at work. Trust me, I got this.”

Neville frowned, but he shrugged, figuring that he may as well give him a shot. He was desperate to get this fight to end, he’d try anything. “Go ahead.”

“I’m so sick of you!” Jen yelled, her face now red with anger. “You’re so lazy, it’s unreal! You’re borderline useless--”

“Jennifer.”

The next voice to enter the phrase was Mustafa’s, and both Neville and Wade looked at each other, stunned that the first thing he’d chosen to say was her full first name. She hadn’t been in this much trouble in ages, and the fact that Mustafa of all people was the one that said it made everything even more startling.

Jen stammered, finally now realizing that she was in big trouble for causing such a scene. “But I-- She-- It’s her fault-- You!!”

“What about me?”

“You!! Stay out of this! Don’t butt in!”

Now Neville had to say something. “Jennifer, don’t talk to him like that. That’s disrespectful.”

“He--”

“Jen,” Mustafa started. “Drop the subject.”

“But--”

“Drop. The. Subject.”

Jen had clearly had enough, and she stood up, chair nearly falling over from the force. She stormed out of the room, angry footsteps dissipating as she went up to her room. Neville sighed when he heard the door slam. “Jesus…”

Daisy hadn’t said anything since Mustafa joined the conversation, and she looked torn on whether to be upset at what happened or gleeful that Jen had been told off. Eventually, she settled on the latter, but this didn’t sit well with Mustafa either -- though he was far calmer now. “Daisy, you should’ve ignored her,” he said.

“Why’m I getting yelled at? She started it…” She moped.

“You’re not getting yelled at. I know she started it. You’re not in any trouble. But from now on, just ignore her when she tries to pick a fight over something like that, okay?”

She was still unhappy that she was spoken to, but she nodded, slumping back in her chair and going back to eating. Mustafa let out a breath, and he looked to Neville, giving him a nod of his own. “It’s handled,” he said.

“I…” Neville was still in awe. “I didn’t think you’d actually step in there like that. I’m impressed.”

“Got it down to a science.” With that, Mustafa went back to eating as well -- but it was obvious that his enthusiasm wasn’t there anymore. Neville figured that it was safe to assume he’d had enough of this family for one evening.

Suddenly, he’d lost his appetite.

“I’m just… so fucking sorry.” Neville said when he and Mustafa escaped outside to the porch following dinner -- he hadn’t even meant to swear, but he was so frustrated with how the night turned out. “I tried to talk to them before you came over, and they said they’d behave, but… God, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, you had no way of knowing that was gonna happen,” Mustafa replied, sounding disappointed. Neville’s heart sank. Everything that he’d been planning to do that night, what he’d been planning on asking Mustafa when all was said and done -- could he even do that anymore? The mood was sour, and when they looked back on their first anniversary all they would remember was the fight that interrupted dinner.

Fuck. Me.

“I should’ve known,” Neville argued. “They’d been fighting for the last couple of days over what to make, and they were even fighting this morning. I should’ve known that they were gonna get into another argument. All they do is fight nowadays…”

“Well… If I were you, I still wouldn’t blame yourself. You did everything right. In the end, they’re two young girls who spend a lot of time together. Too much togetherness is bound to cause problems like this. It happens. It’s no biggie.”

“I still feel so bad. Why didn’t we agree to go out someplace instead… That’s what you wanted to do, right?”

“I… Well, yeah, I kinda did.” Mustafa shrugged. “I didn’t say anything before, but I was hoping that’s what we’d end up doing. I didn’t wanna hurt the girls’ feelings, though. But, there’s nothing we can do about it now. Can’t change the past.”

“God… Again, I’m sorry.” Neville sat down on the front step, propping his elbows on his knees and holding his face in his hands.

Mustafa sat down next to him. “Hey, chin up. Technically there isn’t any law that says we can’t still go out somewhere to celebrate. Not everyone goes out for anniversary dinner the day of -- sometimes they have to wait until they have time.”

“That’s true.” Neville recalled not only his parents, but also him and Marina doing the same thing in the past. “So you’re saying we should go out sometime soon?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” He smooched Neville’s cheek. “We’ve earned it. Especially after tonight. Take two, next weekend. Just us.”

“I like the sound of that.”

A cool September evening breeze blew, and Neville scooted closer to Mustafa, the latter resting his head on Neville’s shoulder. Though the night had been hectic, at least they had this moment to themselves. So long as it stayed like this, then maybe Neville might have a chance…

“I mean, hey,” Mustafa started with a small chuckle, interrupting the silence, “sooner or later we can look back and laugh at all of this. And by the time our second anniversary rolls around, this’ll just be a distant memory, ya feel? Something we can all joke about.”

“Second?” Neville grinned. “You’re already thinking that far ahead?”

“Would you rather I said ‘tenth’ instead?” He winked. “Because I can easily see us having a tenth.”

“Damn, and here I was worried that you were pissed at me after what happened.”

“Never!” Mustafa waved his hand. “Your family is… something, but I love them. And I love you. It’s gonna take a hell of a lot more than a sibling rivalry to get me to leave you, Nev.”

Neville felt warm inside. “I’m glad. And I love you too.”

Mustafa took Neville’s hand, gently rubbing his thumb along the back of it. “Man, it really has been a whole year, huh? It honestly doesn’t feel like it..”

“Right? I still remember when Jen threw that ball over your fence.”

“And you came over to come get it. You got all tongue tied.”

“I was a mess. I wasn’t expecting this to answer the door.” He gestured in Mustafa’s direction, making him laugh. “I thought some angry old man had moved in.”

“I’m not angry, but I am old, so you’re not exactly far off there.”

“You are not old.” Neville shoved him. “We’re the same age -- if you’re old, what’s that make me?”

“You’re younger than me! You’re a spring chicken. I’m ancient.”

“I’m younger than you by, what, five months? That’s nothing. Neither of us are old.”

“...Man, you were so cute on that day, though. And when I found out that you were single, I instantly knew I had to ask you out.”

“Even though I never actually told you I was into guys before you asked.”

At that Mustafa, put a hand on Neville’s shoulder. “Nev. Trust me on this one. I knew.”

Neville snorted. “Alright. But then Wade interrupted you right as you were about to ask…” Neville grumbled. Wade’s poor timing would be the death of him -- he was surprised he hadn’t come out to join them yet. There was still time.

“That sucked, but I did get to ask you eventually. And you did say yes.”

“And thank the Lord I did.” Neville squeezed his hand. “I know I told you all this before, Moose, but you’re the first guy I’ve really… dated since my split. The date we went on was the first time I’d gone out with someone in years. You truly did help me to rediscover how amazing it feels to love someone.”

Mustafa smiled. “I’m so glad I could do that for you.”

“I really wasn’t sure if I’d ever love anyone again after getting divorced. Not many people want to date a single parent -- they don’t want to have to deal with the children. And I was so sure I’d already met The One, I didn’t think I’d ever feel so strongly for another person. You make me so happy.”

“Aww, Nev, you’re such a softie.”

“I really am, aren’t I?” He swallowed. “And you’ve made the girls so much happier, too. I know what happened tonight was bad, but I’ve seen the way they both interact with you. I remember being so concerned after the split that they’d start to resent me for it -- they were young, but not young enough to have no idea what had happened.”

“Do you still think that way?”

“Not really. Even if I didn’t think that they resented me, things had definitely changed. Especially after Marina moved and she couldn’t come to visit them anymore, or take them out on little day trips. But ever since I’ve gotten with you and you’ve started to hang out with them, they’ve changed. Fighting notwithstanding, they’re so much happier. I really can’t thank you enough for that, Mustafa. Thank you for making my girls so happy.”

“Geez, Nev, you’re turning me into a softie now…” Mustafa laughed. “You have too much power.”

This is it. Just do it.

“...Moose, I… I gotta ask you something.” Neville started, tone more serious. “And you don’t have to answer right now if you don’t want to, that’s totally fine, but I have to ask.”

Mustafa’s eyebrows rose, and it looked like there were a million different thoughts running through his mind. His boyfriend wanted to ask him a question on their anniversary? Right after they’d had a discussion like that? It was cute watching him try to figure out what Neville was going to ask. “W-What’s up, Nev?”

“Moose, would you…” He took a deep breath. “Would you… be interested in maybe moving in with us?”

The smile on Mustafa’s face grew even wider. “You want me to move in with you?”

“It doesn’t have to be tonight or anything. It can literally be whenever you want -- or, if you don’t want to at all, then that’s okay, too. Whatever you’re most comfortable with.”

Mustafa didn’t say anything for a moment. He was thinking again, licking his lower lip and letting out an awed chuckle. “Wow,” he finally said. “That’s… not what I expected to hear this evening.”

“Caught you off guard, didn’t I?”

“Would I be able to ask you a question of my own, Nev?”

“And now you’ve caught me off guard,” Neville joked. What was this about? “Go ahead.”

“Well… This is just from what I’ve heard, but… typically, when couples start talking about moving in with one another, that usually means that… y’know, marriage is on their minds.”

“...Oh?”

“Hence why I’m now wondering… Have you been thinking about it?”

Neville looked up at the sky, watching an airplane fly overhead. “I won’t lie, it’s definitely crossed my mind once or twice. Maybe three times. Or, four times. I think you catch my drift here.” He quirked his eyebrows up at him. “I guess you could say that I wanna marry you.”

“...And I guess you could say that I wanna marry you.”

Neville hadn’t done anything even remotely athletic in ages, but he truly did feel like he could start doing backflips after hearing Mustafa say that.

“But… maybe not any time soon, though?” Mustafa continued. “Weddings are super expensive. Not sure if I’m ready to put myself through all that planning just yet.”

“Neither am I,” Neville agreed.

“And besides, I want there to be a real engagement.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Moose. I’ll surprise you good.”

“...Who said that you’ll be doing the proposing?” He narrowed his gaze at Neville, who mirrored his expression.

“I see how it’s gonna be…” Neither one of them could keep this staredown up for any longer than a few more seconds before they both went back to grinning. “We can put that off for now. So… about that moving in thing that I mentioned before…”

Mustafa giggled. “I didn’t forget, don’t worry.” He took both of Neville’s hands. “The answer to that question is ‘yes’. Of course I’ll move in with you guys.”

Neville didn’t reply to that. Instead, he leaned in to kiss Mustafa, feeling more love for him in that moment than he ever had up until that point. After so much doubt, so much worrying, and so many nights of laying awake telling himself that no one would want to date him because ‘no one wants a single dad’ -- he could put all of that to rest.

Finally.

It was when they heard the sound of the front door cracking open that they pulled away, and they spotted Daisy peeking at them. Her eyes were wide, mouth agape, like she’d just witnessed something that she wasn’t meant to see. “You good, kiddo?” Neville asked as she opened the door a little wider.

“Ah… Ah?” She breathed out, looking between the two of them. “You?”

“Is… everything alright?” Mustafa asked.

“He…” She looked to Neville, pointing at Mustafa. “He said yes? You asked him, and he said yes?”

“Wha?” Neville was confused -- did she not hear the part where he said that he’d move in? What did she think Mustafa agreed to?

“He said yes…” After muttering this, she suddenly spun on her heel, bursting back into the house. “He said yes!! They’re getting married!! It’s happening!!”

“Oh my God…” Neville put his face in his hands, the next thing he heard being Mustafa’s laugh. “It’s like she conveniently ignored what the question I asked you was.”

“All she needed to hear was me saying yes.” Mustafa patted Neville on the arm. Neville looked up, seeing the happy expression on his face. When Mustafa was reacting like that, how could he possibly be embarrassed?

And he looked over towards the open door, staring off in the direction that Daisy had run in. Faintly, he could hear her trying to explain to Wade that this was for real this time -- not a false alarm, but the real deal! It was totally a proposal! They really were getting married!

Maybe we are, Daze.

Maybe we are.

[secretlystephaniebrown]

Letters to No One: 1/6

Summary: Lucretia writes letters that she can never send over the years.

First multi-chap fic for TAZ! Well this is exciting.

I'm really attached to the idea of Lucretia as a writer, and letter writing is always a form that's interested me. There's going to be a chapter for every member of the IPRE crew.

Hope you all enjoy!

Also on Ao3

Lucretia keeps her journals, even after founding the Bureau of Balance. Her impeccable handwriting fills volume after volume, recording the events that have occurred that day in precise, clinical detail. She keeps emotions away from it—they’re not like her journals from the Starblaster, where her affection for her family had dripped from every page. Her attention to detail had captured every gesture, every joke, every quirk.

Now, her precision is there, but she forces herself to not dwell on sentiment. She records events, not emotions. She doesn’t write about the gleam in Maureen’s eyes when she solves a new problem, or Cam’s delighted laughter when he throws fire around. She doesn��t write about the loneliness that’s threatening to claw her apart from the inside out at all times.

Instead, in a fit of sentiment, she tells her friends about them instead.

Davenport,

Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined that the results would be… this. I had known it would be extreme, in your circumstances. What could be left, after all, of a man who loves the stars, who has always dreamed of flying through them, when I had to steal that dream? There are no starships in this world. There is no crew for you to Captain. Your life led you to the IPRE, every step, every moment.

I had plans, for you, before I realized there was nothing that could be done. There was a ship, and a crew. You could wander the seas like you once did the stars. Not a captain, not at first, but you would have worked your way up. You would have made that crew, that ship, your own. You would be unable to resist, of that I was sure.

But I can’t leave you behind, not like this. You require a caretaker, at the very least. Maureen has concluded that you’re the victim of one of the relics who I’ve kept on hand out of guilt, or maybe an old companion, damaged by the war. I haven’t corrected her.

You know this, of course. You were in the room when she speculated about it. You didn’t say a thing at all.

I finally have word of the first of the relics; Barry’s Animus Bell. I head out tomorrow, with Cam. Maureen has agreed to look after you in my absence; she doesn’t know, but she knows you mean a great deal to me. She is a good friend and a brilliant inventor. You seem to like her and Cam, at least. You keep trying to make tea for them.

-L

The early days are wild and hectic. She finds Maureen first, clever, wily Maureen, with her grand ideas and her bright eyes. She ends up meeting Maureen while chasing down rumors of the Philosopher’s Stone, rumors that lead her nowhere, but find her a friend and an ally. Things she sorely needs, in this new, terrifying world Lucretia has created for herself.

Cam is a friend of Maureen’s; a street artist and sorcerer. He chatters, filling silences that Maureen and Lucretia leave, and is handy to have in a fight. He thinks Fisher is weird, unlike Maureen who is fascinated by him, and he constantly needles Lucretia about erasing the world’s memories of the relics.

The first year is mostly them just trying to find their feet, scrambling to figure things out, chasing rumors and building a crude base. Maureen has grand plans for anti-gravity and a floating base, but they’re not in fruition just yet.

And Davenport is there, every step of the way.

Davenport,

I’m sorry I left Cam behind. I know you liked him.

But gods, I couldn’t just—I couldn’t stay in Wonderland. I needed to get out. I’m the only one who knows the truth, I’m the only one who knows about the Hunger, I’m the only—

Gods.

I feel so tired, Davenport.

How can I do this?

-L

Wonderland is brutal.

Lucretia gives up so much in that horrific game; memories and hit points and spell slots, magical items, and twenty years of her life. Cam, by her side, takes blows as well, and the black, miserable smoke pours out of both of them, until they can’t stand each other. The few rests they manage to snatch are far away from each other, bitter and angry.

Lucretia wishes desperately that Maureen had come with them—or anyone, really. She wonders what Taako would say about Edward and Lydia’s fashions, what Lup would think of their bright lights.

It takes Lucretia a long time to realize there’s no winning Wonderland. There is only surviving. There is only escaping.

She has to survive, she has to escape. What happens to the others if she dies? If the Hunger comes back, and no one is around to at least fly the ship to safety?

If she dies here, IPRE vanishes into history and the Hunger wins.  

“I’m sorry,” she tells Cam. She turns her back on him, and presses the button that will allow her to escape Wonderland.

Davenport,

None of the others realize you’re not inoculated. They just assume you are.

You’ve started helping around the base. It’s like back on the Starblaster—you need to be useful, it seems. You can’t stand being still. I should have seen this coming, I suppose.

You have good days and bad ones. I guess you know that, since you’re the one living it, but it’s…. the days when you speak in sentences, and use words other than your own name, are ones that make me have to stop. Because for a moment, I can believe that you’re normal again, that I haven’t done this to you.

You just walked in. You made me tea. Even like this, you know how I take it.

-L

Lucretia aggressively recruits for the agency she and Maureen dub the Bureau of Balance when she makes her way out of the Felicity Wilds. The first recruit is Killian, but more follow Carey Fangbattle, Brian, Avi, Johann, Leon, Boyland, Robbie, Brad, and so many others. Maureen’s son Lucas graduates from university and joins Maureen in her work.

The base on the moon grows. A wandering warlock named Garfield offers to set up shop. Lucretia has to ban dogs after there’s an incident with the anti-gravity.

She has her reclaimers, her regulators, her researchers, and then the others. She organizes and she plans, carefully crafting her image and her organization.

Davenport,

I take back every time I laughed with Taako about you being old. Being old sucks. My knees hurt. Why do my knees hurt? My entire body isn’t behaving the way that it should.

-L

Lucretia doesn’t intend for Davenport to end up her right-hand-gnome.

But he’s by her side so often, so quick to do any task that she asks her actual assistants to do, that slowly, he just takes the role for himself. She never intended to do it—it wouldn’t be fair, to make him to anything. He’s her captain, even if he’s a shell of the man she’d looked up (or down at, more accurately) and admired for a century.

But he seems to like it, looking after her.

So she swallows her protests and lets it happen.

Davenport,

I think you’re getting worse, the more information I give to Fisher. You haven’t said a full sentence in several months. Maureen’s noticed it too. She’s getting worried. I’m worried she’ll make the connection.

-L

Those long months when Davenport was only able to say his own name were horrifying. Giving more of the world to Fisher, while not inoculating Davenport, was slowly chipping away at him.

Lucretia had no idea what to do—she couldn’t inoculate him, she couldn’t help him. He was part of this world, but he had no idea what any of it meant.

She wishes, more than anything, that she could talk to him about it.

Davenport,

I walked in on you reading these letters yesterday. You didn’t seem to understand them, of course, but I’d foolishly left them out on my desk, and when I came back, there you were, reading them.

I’ll need to find a better hiding place for them. For all of them really—my collection of unsendable letters only seems to be growing.

When you’re better again, when all of this is done, I’ll give them to you at last. I’d always planned on Lup reading the letters I wrote to her—the ones that started as a joke. I don’t see why the rest of you shouldn’t be the same.

-L

Lucretia takes greater pains to conceal her writings, after Davenport finds them. She hides her journals—the originals from the Starblaster, as well as the new ones. She takes her letters and puts them in a locked drawer.

Later, she will have to worry less—no one else will be able to read them, blurred out as they are by static.

Davenport,

Maureen is dead. Gods, I just…

This wasn’t supposed to happen. None of this was. It’s been ten years, Davenport. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

-L

Maureen’s loss hits Lucretia hard. It was so sudden, so senseless. Lucas tells her it was a heart attack, and Lucretia mourns quietly and alone.

Lucretia is in some ways used to death. But deaths are different in this world, this cycle. They’re permanent, they’re meaningful, because this one is supposed to mean something.

Lucretia holds herself a bit straighter the next day, her hands refusing to tremble as she holds the Bulwark Staff.

She, Cam, and Maureen had started this enterprise.

Lucretia is the only one left, once again.

Davenport,

Inoculating you seems to be helping. But I’m worried that it won’t last.

You clearly seem to be fond of the boys already. That’s nice to see. I suppose, if even wiping your mind couldn’t stop you from recognizing me, somehow, you would also recognize them.

-L

She watches Davenport so carefully, once Magnus, Merle, and Taako arrive. She goes to Fisher’s chamber and sits there for hours, watching the lights flash, and knowing that somewhere, someone is trying to remember things that are forgotten.

She presses her hand against Fisher’s tank, and swallows back tears.

Davenport,

Magnus, Merle, and Taako saw the Hunger today. It took every ounce of self-control I had not to inoculate you with Junior on the spot and flee this entire world.

But I can’t. We’ve already lost too much.

The shield will work. I know it will.

-L

The Hunger’s found them.

Lucretia knows why.

She channels the energy from the Oculus into her staff, to join that of the Gauntlet, and she prepares herself for war.

Davenport,

Have I made a mistake?

Gods.

We are coming up on the end of things. I’ve just sent the boys to Wonderland. Barry has been haunting them. Several of the guards went missing, and I think Magnus knows something is wrong—he interrogated Pringles in his cell and is probably why the guards are missing.

And I just…

I’m finally starting to think about what happens next.

There’s still been no sign of Lup. You’ve spent the past ten years at my side, a subordinate, barely able to speak. Lately, all you’ve been able to say is your own name. It breaks my heart every time.

I don’t…

I know you’ll all hate me. How can you not? What I’ve done… I know. I made this decision. I am willing to live with the consequences, because what other choice did I have? There’s nothing to be done.

I will live with the consequences of what I’ve done.

But it breaks my heart.

-Lucretia

Davenport’s presence in her office was unexpected. Lucretia is only there herself because she’s got paperwork. Letters of recommendation for people who wish to leave, work orders for repairs, and even just moving people to new quarters, ones not damaged by the Hunger… bureaucracy creeps on, even after all of that.

At least this is easier than going out onto her base, to look at the destruction, both to the Bureau and to the planet below. Later, she will count the dead. Later, she will find time to sit down with two journals and record the events of the day. But not now. Now, she has no time for self-pit, or even self-flagellation. Her tears, her guilt, will not do anyone any good tonight. She has work to do.

But Davenport is here in her office, and she stops writing, frozen in place. Because it’s him again; eyes bright, hair neatly combed in a way he hadn’t managed in ten years, and dressed in new clothes. The two of them haven’t been alone since he’s remembered. Since he’s become Davenport, the captain, again, instead of Davenport, her assistant. Guilt rises again in her chest as she meets his eyes. She realizes, with a start, that he’s wearing his old uniform—he’s found it, somewhere, the red coat with its gold buttons and the IPRE patch. His BOB bracer, she realizes, is gone from his arm. She wonders who removed it.

“Lucretia,” he says, still speaking slowly, as if half afraid it won’t come out correctly.

“Davenport.” She feels hollow, exhausted to her core, her spell slots expended. She hasn’t slept or rested since the boys came back from Wonderland, and even now she’s refused to go to sleep on purpose, afraid of what her dreams will show her.

Whatever it is Davenport has to say, she’ll accept. She’s stretched to the point of breaking, but she owes him this, whatever it may turn out to be.

He moves closer to her, the door closing behind him. He looks nearly as tired as she feels, dark circles blossoming like bruises beneath his eyes.

“Lucretia, I—I don’t know where to begin.”

Lucretia isn’t sure if she wants to laugh or cry. “I’m sure.” Over ten years’ worth of indignities, lobotomized by his own subordinate, separated from his family, memories stolen away from him. Her list of crimes is long, but the ones against him in particular somehow feels more relevant than most of the others.

“I remember it all.” He’s looking right at her. “Ten years, Lucretia.”

“I know.” She swallows her excused, her justifications, her defenses.

He looks at her. “I remember all of it,” he repeats. “I remember finding letters to myself on your desk.”

“Oh,” Lucretia says, startled despite herself. “Yes. I kept them.” She opens a drawer in her desk, one that’s enchanted to keep Angus McDonald out. She takes out the small bundle of letters, tied together with fishing twine. She holds them out.

He takes them from her and tucks them under his arm.

“I need time, Lucretia.”

Lucretia nods, wordlessly, and he walks out the door.

She gets a postcard in the mail, a month later, written in Davenport’s blocky handwriting.

Lucretia,

Weather’s great in this part of the world. Reminds me of Cycle 21, just a bit. Picture on the front is the coastal city I’m in now—pleasant place. Great food, with a lot of shrimp.

Wish you were here,

-Davenport

[mldrgrl]

House Hunters

by: mldrgrl Rated: PG Summary: Inspired enough by @thexofiles latest episode that I think this qualifies as a Go Fic Yourself.  The premise being: What would Mulder and Scully be like house hunting together?  Set in the revival era.

The first time they settled down to live together, it was out of necessity and not so much by choice.  The rickety old house was purchased in secret, many years before it actually became necessary, selected for its inconspicuous and remote location, not for practicality or aesthetics.  Regardless, it was home for them for many years, until it wasn’t.

It was Scully who tentatively started dropping hints that maybe “we” should look for something closer to work, now that they were back at the FBI.  Maybe “we” should look for something permanent.  Maybe “we” should talk about seeing a realtor.

At their realtor’s suggestion, the two of them sat down to make a list of the top ten things they were interested in out of a house, with the idea that at least half of those were going to need to be sacrificed.  Apparently, a perfect home did not exist, but something in the neighborhood of comfortably inhabitable would be attainable.  They returned to the office, both knowing full well that their lists would probably look a lot different.

“Maybe we should just get a RV,” Mulder said.  “We’d save the department a ton of dough on accommodations if we just drove it from case to case.  I bet we could even write it off on our taxes as a business expense.  Everyone wins.”

“Sure,” Scully said, handing him a legal pad.  “What we save on hotels, we’ll make up for with diesel fuel.  Write down the first ten things that come to mind.”

Mulder sighed and picked up his pencil.  Scully finished her list first, but he was stuck on number eight, doodling a picture of an Airstream camper at the bottom corner of his paper.  She cleared her throat and he tapped his pencil as he closed his eyes and then quickly wrote down the first two things that popped into his head.  They traded legal pads.

“You’re not taking this seriously,” Scully said, frowning at his list.

“What do you mean?”

“Number two.  Haunted.”

“You said to write down the first things that came to mind, and I would not pass up a haunted house just on the fact that it’s haunted.”

“First of all, there’s no such thing as a haunted house.”

“Tell that to Maurice and Lyda.”

“Second of all, I’m just going to repeat my first of all.”

“Legally, a realtor has to disclose to potential buyers if a house is haunted.”

“Well then, if that happens, we won’t even be looking at that house.”

“How can they disclose something that doesn’t exist then?  Hm?”  Mulder raised his brows at her and folded his hands behind his head as he sat back in his chair.

“You really want a detached garage?”

“Changing the subject, I see.”  He grinned.  “Yeah, attached garages kind of freak me out.”

“Attached garages freak you out, but not haunted houses?”

“Why is two full bathrooms underlined and followed by about twenty-five asterisks on your list?”

“Because I shared a bathroom with you for seven years and I’m not about to do that again.”

“What if it had one of those double vanities with the two sinks and you could have one side and I could have the other?”

“As long as an alternate shower and toilet exist elsewhere in the house, I can be negotiable on that.”

“We both have bathtub on our list, did you see that?”

“I did, though I’ve never known you to ever take a single bath since I’ve known you.”

“No, but you enjoy a nice bath.  And I enjoy watching you enjoy a nice bath.”

Scully glanced up at Mulder and graced him with a small smile before she looked back down at his list.  She crossed off number two and circled number five, the bathtub.

“Scully, I think you’ve been watching too much HGTV.”

“Why?”

“We definitely don’t need space for entertaining.”

“I did not put space for entertaining.”

“‘Open kitchen’ is just codeword for ‘space for entertaining.’”

“Fine.  I’ll take open kitchen off my list, if you take detached garage off yours.”

Mulder pursed his lips and gave the bottom one a few tugs.  “Deal.”

They both put lines through the items on the lists in front of them and then Mulder drew another line after that.

“Hey,” Scully said, reaching over to flick his pencil with hers.  “What else are you putting a line through?”

“No one needs granite countertops and an artistic backsplash.”

“It looks nice and it’s easy to clean.”

“You love subway tiles and you know it.  Are you telling me that’s going to make or break a deal on a house?”

Scully sighed.  “Probably not.”

Mulder finished putting his line through her item number six.

“I put three bedrooms as well,” she said.

“Were you thinking one for us and two for all the guests we’re entertaining and impressing in our open kitchen with the fancy backsplash?”

“Jackass.”

“Because I figured I’d want an office, and you probably would too.  But, if we need more rooms for all these guests or you were thinking a craft room would be nice, we’re going to have to revise our strategy.”

“You do realize I’m licensed to carry a weapon again, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“And that you’re arguing with me over something we actually agree on?”

“I was just looking for clarification.”

“For clarification, guest rooms and craft rooms never crossed my mind.”

“Well, there’s only three things we actually agree on from our lists: three bedrooms, a bathtub, and gas appliances.”

“Is there anything else you absolutely have to have?”

“A porch.”

“Really?”

“One of my favorite things was always to sit with you on our porch.”  Mulder looked down at the legal pad for a few moments.  “I guess it might not make or break the choice though.”

“Well then, I get to choose fireplace.”

“Over central heating?”

“Same reason,” she said, glancing up at him while she circled the porch on his list.

“Let’s talk about location.  On the count of three, we’ll both say where we’re thinking.”

“Okay.”

“One, two, three.  Suburbs.”

“DC.”

They both paused and then at the same time, repeated what the other had said with questions marks.

“You want to live in the city?” Mulder asked.

“It would make the commute so much easier.”

“The commute wouldn’t be that bad from Chevy Chase or Arlington.  We could ride the train together.  Read the Weekly World News on the way in for research.”

“But, the city has...art, culture, nightlife.”

Mulder raised his brows.  “Scully, your idea of nightlife is staying up late to read the latest issue of JAMA.”

“And you couldn’t even last four days in Arcadia Falls, what makes you think you could suddenly fit into a neighborhood?”

“I'm actually going to accept it as a compliment that I I’m not all that crazy about the idea of a condo or a townhouse, which is probably all we’d be able to find here.  Suburbs are like the perfect hybrid of city and middle of nowhere.  And there’s more space so you get more bang for your buck.”

“Look at you being sensible.”

“I've always been sensible.”

Scully arched her brow.

“I can't help it if we have different ideas of what being sensible entails,” he said.

“Mmhm.  Well, you also have ‘no HOAs’ on your list.”

“Not all neighborhoods have HOAs.”

“Okay, fine, but I get to keep walk-in closets on my list.  And start with Virginia.  I’d rather live in Virginia than Maryland.”

Scully got up and pushed her chair from the front side of Mulder’s desk, around to his side and he moved over to give her room as he opened his laptop.  He typed in the address for the website their realtor gave them and started clicking on boxes to cater their search results for the things they were looking for.

“I thought this was supposed to narrow things down,” Mulder said.  “There are still ninety-four listings on here.”

“Well, the first two are already a no.  Scroll down.”

“How can you tell?”

“The first one looks like a barn and the second is just simply unattractive.  Keep going.”

They scrolled through listings for the next hour, agreeing only on what was wrong with each house they looked at, but disagreeing on what they actually liked.  Photos of the front exterior alone got them through the first two pages without even stopping to open the listing.

“No,” Mulder said, vetoing the first house Scully was actually interested in.

“No?”  Scully started listing the positives on her fingers as she read them off.  “Porch, three bedrooms, two and a half baths, detached garage.”

“It’s too new.”

“Mulder, it was built in 1989.  So help me, if you somehow think that lessens the chances for it being haunted, I’ll-”

“Anything built after 1960 lacks character.  But, don’t worry, there’s always a chance anything we find could be built on an ancient burial ground.”

“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear, thank you.”

The next listing they explored of a quaint stone house had them both interested, but there was a lot to look past in the pictures of the interior.

“Is that…”  Mulder cocked his head and shifted his reading glasses a little higher on his nose.  “Are those clowns on that wallpaper?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Wallpaper can be taken down.”

“Red shag carpet!”

“Carpet can be replaced.”

“No, no, I’m voting keep it.  When have you ever seen red shag carpet?  I think we need to visit this one just to see this.”

“It is really ticking off all the items on the list…but, the interior is going to need work.”

“Hey, who got up on a ladder and patched the roof before that spring storm that flooded the pond?”

“Leon from Patch-It Up roof repair.”

“Exactly.  The point is there are people out there that do those kinds of things.”

Scully laughed.  “I guess it can’t hurt to look.  The exterior is gorgeous.”

“Write down number 73877CN.”

And the next few pages didn’t offer much to look at, but gave Mulder a lot to say:

“I think we should make an offer exclusively for the replica of the Venus de Milo in the front yard.”

“I don’t think that’s a third bedroom so much as the walk-in closet you were wanting.”

“I’d really like to add the slogan ‘built by Hobbits, for Hobbits’ onto this listing.”

“Is it just me, or does that single window make the house look like a judgmental cyclops?”

“Stop,” Scully said, pushing Mulder’s hand away from the trackpad and going back to a listing of an immaculate-looking Craftsman home he had passed by.  “This is cute.”

“It’s very...blue.”

“That’s just paint.  Look.  Built in 1935, recently remodeled.  Four bedrooms, two and three quarter bathrooms.  A mudroom...I didn’t even think of that.  Gas stove.  Gas fireplace.  Front porch.  Back patio.  Double vanities.”

“All your dreams coming true right there.  But, no walk-in closets.”

“No...I can sacrifice that though.  I really like this.”

“We should take a look at it then.  44415JL.”

“Do you think we might be able to see it today?”

“I don’t know, call Marie and ask.”

Scully leaned across Mulder to pick up the phone and call their realtor while he continued browsing the listings.

“It’s still available, but there have been offers,” Scully said, when she hung up the phone.  “We can go now and take a look.”

“Alright.”  Mulder closed the laptop.

Scully pushed the chair back to the front of Mulder's desk and then put on her blazer.  “We shouldn't get our hopes up,” she said.  “They might already be considering one of the other offers.”

“True.”

“Or maybe it's just too good to be true in the first place.”

“Could be.”

“I mean, there has to be something wrong with it, right?”

“Nothing is ever really perfect.”

“But, what if we really do like it and we're too late?”

Mulder put his hands on Scully's shoulders and gave them a squeeze.  “This is just the first house of many we'll probably be looking at.”

“Did you submit the credit report like I asked you to?”

It had been a long time since Mulder used this particular tactic to shut Scully up, but he leaned down and kissed her so she would stop talking.  It didn't work, she still went on with his lips mashed to hers.

“Of course there's always the chance it wouldn't pass inspection for some reason,” she said.

Mulder pulled back and squeezed her shoulders again.  “You have got to be the only person on the planet that manages to have buyers remorse before you've even bought something.”

“I'm simply trying to be realistic.”

“There'll be no realism in this venture, Scully, I won't stand for it.”

“This is going to be our house for the...the foreseeable and distant future.  It’s...we’re going to have to see ourselves in it not just for now, but…”

Mulder dropped his head again to speak softly by her mouth.  “We’re looking for a house we can grow old in together, is that what you’re saying?”

“Yes, that’s what I’m saying.”

“That’s four things we agree on then.”

Scully reached up and wiped a smudge of her lipstick from Mulder’s mouth.

“And if this one doesn’t work out,” he said.  “We can always check out the one with the red shag carpet.”

“Yeah, we could do that.”

Mulder grinned and put his hand on the small of Scully’s back as he turned the light out in the office.

The End

[emiriwrites]

Priceless Treasures and Frozen Fortunes | Chapter 1

Fandom: Yuri!!! On Ice

Rating: T

Summary: Yuuri Katsuki is a ballet instructor and figure skater by day, and a phantom thief by night. Victor Nikiforov is the lead detective of the Eros case, pursuing the elusive phantom thief and trying to (romantically) pursue Yuuri.  

The good news: they’re one in the same and they’re falling in love

The bad news: they’re one in the same and they’re falling in love

Pairing(s): Victor/Yuuri, implied other pairings

Notes: And now for something completely different from what I usually write!

Like everyone else that’s written for this AU, I was inspired by @samochas art and just had to write something for it! I want to say that some of the other fics for this AU inspired bits and pieces of this, but for the most part it’s my own ideas for this take on the AU (also with some help from kai and talia for some of the roadblocks with my plotting/outlining) Also, huge thanks to kai for looking over this chapter/editing! I also have chapter notes for this fic here, which I recommend you look over either while reading this chapter or afterwards!

Anyways, hope you all enjoy my contribution to the phantom thief AU!

Chapter Word Count: 2,195

[AO3 Link] [Chapter Index] [Next Chapter]

Chapter 1: Wishing Too for Something New

“Detective Nikiforov speaking.”

“Ah, Victor. Good you’re there. Listen-”

“Chris, I’m not leaking police cases to you just because you need a new article.”

There’s something almost like a pout from the other end of the phone. “Why not? You’ve done it before, haven’t you?”

“Yes, and Yakov’s almost had my head from those times.” Victor sighed. “Plus there’s not much new happening around here.  It’s just the same old stuff.”

“Oh? Not even with that new kid showing up after Georgi left? What’s his name again... Leon or something, right?”

“It’s Leo, and that was nearly two months ago. Nothing’s changed since then! You would know this with how often you call, Chris.”   

“What, no new big cases or anything? There’s usually something like that happening around there, isn’t there?” Chris sounded like he was in disbelief.

“Yes, for once. The last one was the one that caused Georgi to leave the force finally. We all thought he would’ve left when Anya broke up with him, which was quite a surprise for how long he stayed.”

Chris hummed in agreement. “True, but surely something new has happened around the station, right? It can’t be as dead around there as you’re making it sound.”

“No, it’s just simple things that get taken care of in a day or two. It hasn’t been this dead since I joined all those years ago.” Victor sighed, running his free hand through his bangs. “What does it take to get something exciting to happen around here?”

Chris let out a chuckle at that. “Be careful what you wish for, Victor. You might just get something new to happen, saying things like that.”

“At this point, I’d take anything just so it wasn’t so slow around here.”

“Right. Anyways, my editor’s going to kill me if I stay on any longer instead of working, so I’ll talk to you later, hmm?”

“Of course you will. Who else is going to bug me for police cases to leak?”

Now that got a laugh out of Chris on the other end. “True, true. Toodles!”

Victor hung up once Chris had ended the call and sighed. Ever since the Henderson kidnapping case two months ago, it’s been simple cases like stolen cars or break ins that took little to no time to solve. Then again, said case had been stressful and took a lot out of everyone in the force; Georgi had finally resigned after it due to everything that went into solving that case. Thankfully, Leo de la Iglesia had joined the force shortly after Georgi left, and had inserted himself into the force quite nicely. He’d seen the boy talking to Mila on occasion and he appeared to be on nice terms with everyone else on the force, including Yakov. Then again, everyone was on good terms with Yakov, save for him it seemed. Possibly due to the older man being a family friend and had dealt with Victor’s antics for longer than necessary.

Though it was due in part to Yakov that Victor was a detective in the first place. Yakov and his father had been working together on the same police force since they were younger, so the two of them had been closer for quite a while. It was due in part to both of them that he had decided to go into the police force after all (to his father’s delight and Yakov’s displeasure, once Victor had gotten assigned to the same station as him). He’d been quite distant with his parents since arriving in the States, specifically Detroit. Technically, he could have been assigned anywhere, given his connections within the police, but there was just something about Detroit that kept him there since he arrived all those years ago.

Though what was keeping him here now? Considering how dead the department was since the last case had ended, it seemed like it was time to leave. He couldn’t just do that though, the people here were those he was close to and had known for years (plus Yakov would have his head for trying to leave without much of a reason), but it almost seemed too convenient to leave now. Besides, there was another reason he couldn’t leave.

“Victor!” His name being shouted, along with the accompanying slam of the door from the director’s office, pulled him out of his reverie. Standing there was a tall, older looking man with a grey fedora on his head, giving quite the glare at Victor. If he didn’t know any better, he would think he was in trouble, given how often Yakov was yelling at him, for one thing or another. However, this was different from the other times Yakov yelled at him, merely to get his attention.

“Ah, Yakov.” He said, looking at the man as he approached the silver haired detective's desk. “What is it this time? Surely not anything I’ve done, no?”

“For once,” Yakov huffed at him. “Yuratchka’s ballet class is almost over and Nikolai isn’t able to pick him up.”

Worry washed over Victor’s features. “Is he alright? It’s not his back again, is it?”

Yakov shook his head. “No, something about problems with his car. You’d be able to pick him up, wouldn’t you?”

Victor’s expression immediately brighten at that. “Pass out on seeing Yuri? As if I could say no to that!” He all but cooed out. He rarely got to see the younger teen who was practically family from how much they had seen each other, considering how close Yakov and his father were to Nikolai, Yuri’s grandfather.        

Yakov only nodded in reply. “Good, because I would’ve made you otherwise. You know what studio his lessons are at, right?”

Victor nodded, gathering his things and straightening up his desk. “Yes, you’ve only told me a dozen times or so. See you all tomorrow!” He called before leaving, earning a wave from both Leo and Mila.

Once outside, Victor unlocked and got into his car, started it and headed to the studio that Yuri took lessons at. He pulled up to the studio not more than fifteen minutes later, just as the first kids started to leave the building.

When he arrived inside, the studio seemed much bigger than it seemed from outward appearances. To the left side of the building was a hallway that lead to what seemed to be private rooms for either dancing or acting according to the signs there. To the right was a shop and in front was a hallway that lead to a main waiting area with open doors leading to actual rooms that looked like an actual studio. Many parents and young girls and boys were around in the main area, though peeking into one of the rooms revealed Yuri, changing out of his slippers to regular shoes. Said room was lined with many mirrors on one side, with bars on the other. Near Yuri was an older man, not too much younger than Victor, talking to him.

“Yuri! There you are!” Victor called, gather both the attention of Yuri and the other man, the former seeming annoyed and the latter appearing rather flustered as Victor approached them.

“Why are you here? Wasn’t Grandpa supposed to pick me up?” Yuri all but growled at, glaring at Victor.

“Yes, but he had some car troubles so Yakov asked me to pick you up in his stead.” Victor explained, to which Yuri only ‘tched’ at. Victor turned his attention to the man nearby, who seemed rather startled by him.

“Are you his instructor? I’m Victor Nikiforov, Yuri’s uncle of sorts.” He said, lips turning into a small smile, which the other returned, looking at him finally. He was Asian, having short black hair and brown eyes that seemed inviting.

“Ah, yes I am. I’m Yuuri Katsuki. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Nikiforov,” Yuuri introduced, holding out his hand in offering to Victor, who took it and shook it firmly; keeping eye contact with Yuuri.  

“Oi, don’t call yourself my uncle when you know that’s not true!” Yuri called, leaving the room to head to one of the changing rooms. Victor merely smiled at him, who only looked back in annoyance, before turning back to Yuuri.     

“I’m surprised to see you. Usually Yuri’s grandfather comes to pick him up from lessons.” Yuuri said, to which Victor only nodded at.

“He usually does, but like I said, he had car troubles today.” Victor replied. “They’re becoming more and more often it seems; he probably should replace that old car of his.”

Yuuri let out a small laugh at that. “Yes, he probably should. I’ve seen it a few times around here. It really is an old thing, isn’t it?” It was surprising to hear Yuuri laugh, but it was soft and comforting for whatever reason. Victor wouldn’t mind hearing it more often.

“Hey, Victor let’s go. I’m ready.” Yuri called from the doorway to the studio room, out of his dance clothes into a hoodie and jeans, tapping his foot impatiently.

“Just a minute, Yuri!” He responded back, turning over his shoulder to tell him, before turning his attention back to Yuuri. “Better go before he gets too angry, a grumpy Yuri is no fun.”

“Yeah, he isn’t. He gets that way sometimes during lessons, but he’s really a natural at it. Did he take ballet before this?”

Victor shrugged. “I think he did. Something one of his skating instructors recommended to help with his flexibility or something along those lines.”

“I see. He does have the makings of a skater, or a ballerina if he wanted to. It’s just something I’ve noticed from watching him during class.” Yuuri commented, to which Victor nodded at.

“Oi, Victor!”

Victor sighed, it was time to go. “I better leave now, lest he drag me out.” He smiled at Yuuri once more. “It was nice to meet you, Yuuri. Maybe we’ll meet again.”

Yuuri returned his smiled with a small nod and a soft look in his eyes. “Maybe. It was nice to meet you too.”

Victor nodded once more before turning to leave, Yuri following beside him in silence before getting into the car with him.

“Your instructor seemed nice, Yuri.” Victor commented, trying to get a conversation started.

“Yeah, he is.” Yuri replied, looking out the window. “He’s nice to everyone in class, even me despite the glares and yelling.”

Victor let out a small laugh at that. “Well, it’s nice to know that. Though we wouldn’t have you any other way, glares, yelling and all.”

“S-shut up!” Yuri yelled, his tone stubborn and betraying the small flush forming. Victor let the subject drop, letting Yuri go on about cats and tigers before dropping him off at his home and exchanging a few words with Nikolai before returning to his apartment, a large brown dog greeting him.

“Good to see you too, Makkachin.” He cooed to the dog, who happily barked in return. He moved to sit on the couch, Makkachin resting in his lap. Who would’ve thought the day would turn out like this? He was very much looking forward to meeting Yuuri again, whenever that would be. Maybe he should talk to Nikolai about picking up Yuri form his lessons more often.

Either way, it was something he was looking forward to; something new and exciting.

Later that evening, Yuuri was still in the studio despite having closed only a few minutes ago. He was running through some basic steps before the door to his room opened, a younger Asian man walking in, who smiled at him.

“Still working late, Yuuri?” He asked, to which Yuuri only nodded at.

“Like I do anything else, Phichit. I need it more than ever right now.” Yuuri responded, to which Phichit nodded to.

“Speaking of, Guang-hong’s almost done with the outfit. It should be done by tomorrow, if not the next day.” Phichit explained, while Yuuri continued through his movements.

“And the floorplans?”

“Already downloaded and examined. It should be easy since it’s only a basic layout. Plus, our prize isn’t that well guarded.” Yuuri only hummed in agreement.

“Everything seems to be going smoothly. We’ll be able to proceed according to schedule. Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be Phichit.” Yuuri’s voice was laced with confidence and determination. His eyes no longer held the softness and vulnerability that they did before, replaced with hardness and a sharpness that wasn’t there before.

“You do remember the risks with this, right? If this fails…”

“I know Phichit. But what other choice do I have? This is something I have to do, you know.”

“I know, I’m just worried about you Yuuri. Even if I have the utmost faith in this plan and everyone we have working with us on this. It’s only natural to be worried.” Phichit said, concern in his voice.

“It’ll be fine Phichit. I trust you and everyone else. We’ll do this and it’ll all work out. Just have faith in us, okay?”

Phichit nodded, a smile on his face.

One week. One week until the phantom thief ‘Eros’ will shake this town to it’s core.