#( au where my muses can hear each other's thoughts )

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 11

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: friday, my day, am i right?

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You turn your legs over the bench, feet dangling over the floor as you look at the king, dumbfounded and dozy. He sits in the chair by the table, toying with a grab between his fingers as he watches you. Your heart hammers behind your ears as your breath licks like flames in your lungs. You daren’t ask it aloud but what is he doing there? 

“I only meant to look in upon you,” King Geralt says as if he can hear your thoughts. “I fathomed the night was long tending to my wife and I would make sure you are well-rested.” 

“Your highness,” you stand and smooth the front of your shift, realising you wear nothing more. No dress, no apron. You feel vulnerable to his golden eyes as they follow your hands. The fabric pulls taut on your chest before you can right yourself. “I... Apologies, I am unkempt.” 

You search around and go to take your cap from where you hung it. You cover your shorn locks and tie it tight above your nape. The king’s eyes narrow at you. 

“What is the purpose of keeping your hair short?” He wonders as he drops the grape back to the plate. 

You look at him, shuddering, “I do not... it is only as I’ve been bid, your highness. In Debray, all the maids do so.” 

“You are not in Debray now,” he muses. 

You’re quiet. You’re not sure how to answer that. You gulp and grab the clean dress from the pile and throw it over your head. It hangs loose, not like Jazlene’s carefully cut and laced gowns. You reach for your apron and the king clears his throat. You stop and look at him. 

“Your highness?” You blink, still dazed by his unexpected appearance. 

“I did go to see the lady of Debray,” he intones, “she was in a poor state. She would not permit me in her chambers for her condition.” 

“Oh my, your highness, I am sorry to hear. Shall I go look in--” 

“She has maids a plenty,” he insists, “I hoped...” he leans forward and reaches to his belt. You notice the top of his slate grey tunic is untied and shows the trim of his chest hair, “to share a pastime with her. I hoped perhaps we might see past our differences at last and start our progress towards the kingdom. Alas, despite my warnings, she overindulged and has left herself incapacitated.” 

You stare at him, clutching the apron. He flicks his fingers dismissively as his other hand brings forth a pouch, “leave that. Come, sit.” 

You can only obey. You put the apron down and cross the chamber. As you near the table, he pushes the tray of dishes out of the way. You lower yourself onto a stool as he opens the mouth of the pouch. He pours out the rattling contents. Carved diced in varying shapes, symbols painted on each side, and man longer pieces that look like bone. 

“It is a game,” he explains as the contents roll out, “I’d like to teach you.” 

You look down as he sorts out the many pieces into sets. He is lithe in his arrangement. When he is down, he presses his hands flat to frame the assortment. 

“You don’t mind?” He wonders, “if you are tired still...” 

“Your highness, I am awake,” you rub your eyes and drop your hands to your lap. “A game? How do you play it?” 

You lean forward and he seems pleased by your intent. He curls his fingers and takes a breath. 

“It is like bartering at a market, or the like,” he begins, “you see how the pieces differ,” he points to the longer ones, “there are tick marks here,” he shows you how one has an ex, another a line this way and the next that way, and a circle in another. “We each have our dice,” he divides those up and pushes a set towards you, “it is a matter of trade and cost.” 

“Hmm,” you push your lip out, concentrating. 

He continues to explain the balancing and leveraging of each roll. How once you have collected all the pieces with a particular mark, you may wield a greater demand. You tilt your head thoughtfully, your own fingers drawing lines in the air as you make sense of his instruction. You think you understand but remain uncertain. 

“We may begin simple,” he intones. 

So suddenly are you swept up in the intricacy of the game, that your shock at his appearance dissipates. You can only think of the pieces as he rolls a die. Then the next. You follow his lead and when at last the first trade comes, you hear his offer but have no response. 

“You have a question?” He prompts. 

“I am thinking, your highness,” you squint as your forehead lines. 

“I can tell,” he says brightly. 

You peer up at him and smooth your expression. His cheek twitches as he leans back. You counter his offer and he clucks. 

“Mm, I see,” he rests his chin on his knuckles. 

He hands over his pieces and you bite the inside of your lip. You gather them to your side of the table and frown. You toy with the dice and wait. 

“Your turn,” he urges, “unless you are not having fun.” 

“It is an interesting game but I don’t want to be let to win,” you mutter. 

“I am not letting you win. It is the first turn and it is a long game,” he chides. 

“Mm, yes,” you pick through the dice, “your highness.” 

He exhales and leans on the armrest, “take your time. I am no hurry to be away.” 

You peer up at him and find his gaze set on you. You return your attention to the dice and toss them. He’s a king, should he have better things to do? 

⚔️

“It appears you have bested me,” King Geralt sighs and puts his dice down, pressing his hand flat over them, “you have the mind of a councilour.” 

“Your highness,” you bring your hands back to wring in your lap.  

“Truly, you’ve taken well to it,” he remarks, “it has been some time since I had harrying competition.” 

You offer a slight curve of your lips and look away. The window is dulled as the sunlight descends. You blanch and slip forward on the chair. 

“Your highness,” you stand, “it is late. I should--” 

“You may remain,” he assures you as he shows his palm kindly, “no hurry, little maid.” 

“But... shouldn’t you--” you keep yourself from asking after his duty. That is not for you to mind, “the queen will need dinner.” 

“As I said before, this place is ripe with servants,” he says coolly, “you should sit and bask in the time you have off your feet.” 

You face him and slowly sit. He drags his fingers along the wooden armrest as his expression tightens. He watches you as his square jaw clenches, “unless you would rather be away from me?” 

You twist around to look at the door, then to him. 

“I will go wherever you command, your highness.” 

“Yes, yes,” his hand balls to a fist, “that is not what I...” he sighs with exasperation, “I want to know what you desire. What do you want? What do you need?” 

There’s a stirring in your chest as he leans slightly forward, his eyes alight. You peer into the golden pools and your lips part. He is a king and yet speaks as if he would serve you. 

“I...” you wisp and clamp your lips tight, measuring your words, “I want to serve you and the queen, your highness. I want to serve the realm.” 

He huffs again and grimaces, “for yourself. Not the queen, not me, not the people.” 

“Hmmm,” you look down and shrug. You shake your head. You can’t think of anything. “I have a new dress and a hot bath and good food. I can think of nothing. What of you, your highness? What do you want?” You lift your chin slowly, “just for you?” 

Your question seems to startle him. He winces and for a moment, seems breathless. He stands suddenly and takes a step forward. He’s close and you think he might lunge at you. You shy away, expecting the same wrath you inspire in the queen. He falters and backs away. 

“I want...” he grits and turns his back to you. 

He walks to the window and looks out onto the lawns. He hangs his head and grips the window’s edge. He lets out a gravelly sigh. 

“I want you...” he utters, “...to come walk with me in the gardens. I would like to do so before we must depart.” 

You rise again, “yes, your highness, I will put my shoes on then.” 

He puffs out into the deepening dusk. You can feel his frustration roiling from his figure. You grab the stockings and the shoes and return to the chair. You roll the stocking onto your foot and pull it up your leg, rumpling up one side of the skirt as you do. As you hike up the next, the king faces you, surprising you before you can drop the fabric back down to your toes. You sheepishly bend to put your shoes on, embarrassed. 

“Thank you, little maid,” he approaches and offers his hand, “for keeping a miserable king company.” 

You look at his hand. It’s big and calloused and lined like a map. The invitation seems overly friendly. You accept it, not so bold as to turn him away. 

“Your highness,” You murmur as he squeezes your hand then lets his arm fall straight, tugging you away from the table. 

Silently, he lets his grip brush from your hand and instead hooks his arm through yours. It is an overly familiar gesture but you allow it. What more can a maid do? As you near the door, he stops and untangles from you completely, stepping away as if struck by the oddity of his actions. He reaches for the door handle and inhales. 

He opens the door and steps into the corridor, you follow him, just a pace back. He looks over his shoulder at you then turns ahead. You scurry to keep up with his long strides. He stops at the end of the hallway and you nearly collide with his elbow. 

“I am not miserable because of you,” he angles his head towards you as he keeps his voice low, “if you worried...” he shakes his head at himself, “come, little maid.” 

You do as he says and trail him through the corridors. It is late and while soldiers remain on watch, most of the lords and ladies have tucked away for their evening meals. The king continues his unstoppable advance with you at his heels. Down a flight of stairs and across the great hall. 

Outside, several soldiers bow their heads at his passing and another nears. He dismisses them without a word. You carry on, sensing how his mood darkens with the sky. You’re uncertain of his demeanour, so suddenly shifting from affable to affronted. You didn’t say what he wanted and now he is unhappy. He can be rather like his wife. 

He stalks onward to the archway that marks the green gardens of the capital castle. He passes between the leafy pillars and stops to look this way then that, then opts to walk along the middle row. You flit between the hedges behind him as the sky ripples with the looming night and a cool breeze stirs around your skirts. 

He is silent as he walks, almost as if he’s forgotten you. You wonder if you fall out of step, if you are lost behind him, would he even notice? Finally, he slows before a pond dug into the center of the gardens, amid lilies and daisies and blue bells. The moon shines down and reflects off the tepid pool. 

He treads around the edge of the pond as you stand by the bushes. He circles around to a wooden bench and sits. His shoulders slouch and he leans his head back. The silver light limns his strong features. When he opens his eyes, they glow as they did in your dream. 

“I have come this far, I have conquered as I vowed to, I have vanquished the old king,” he speaks to the sky, “I have done all I sought to and yet I am wanting.” 

You dip your head, sad for him. You might assume a king would be happy for all his gold and power. That a crown would bring delight as much as glory. All you see is a man in mourning. For all he’s won, he’s lost just as much. Loyal men and many months. 

“I have a wife who is petulant, I have an ally who is cowardice, and I have nothing left here to claim,” he continues, “should I remain any longer, I might give it all up.” 

He hangs his head and leans forward, gripping the edge of the bench. He sits in silence as he watches the water. A frog hops onto a large stone protruding from the shallows and steals your attention. You watch it leap again and again until it meets the other side. 

“Little maid...” the sultry purr crawls over you and you glance over to find the king observing you, “sit with me.” 

You shiver and cautiously make your way around the pond. You near him and sit at the end of the bench opposite him. You fixate on the moonlit water. He leans to grab your wrist and hauls you closer. You sidle down until you are almost against him. He slips his hand around yours, covering it in his grasp. He pulls it onto his thigh and rests it there. 

He clings to you just like that. You feel a pluck in your chest for him. He has a wife who should share in his troubles but she is too buried in the anguish she made for herself. Yet, she is not there, and you are; a paltry substitute for what he truly needs. 

Silence pervades the night but for the chirping of insects and the sweet singing of birds. The king’s grasp on you tightens, then lessens, and tightens again. He eases his hold entirely and pets your hand. 

“Will you play another game with me?” His timbre is silty as he looks over at you. 

“A game, your highness?” You babble. 

He hums and nods, “a child’s game,” he explains, “it is simple.” He sits straight and pushes back his hair, “you will run and I will catch you.” 

Your heart lurches. Your lashes flutter. You played the game before, when you were young, with the queen even. But that was years ago and you were smaller and faster. You look at the king. 

“Your highness,” you utter. 

“It’s my command,” he says, “run.” 

[pjohoo-reclists]

Powerful Percy Jackson Fic Recs

A list of fics where Percy is abnormally powerful, but not dark or evil. For similar content you can also check out my Dark Percy Jackson and Percy Jackson in Tartarus rec lists. Enjoy!

legend by Nightingale231

T | 200 words | Complete

Percy Jackson & Camp Half Blood Campers

BAMF Percy Jackson, POV Outsider, Camp Leader Percy Jackson

When the lost trio arrive at camp, whispers of a teen named Percy Jackson weave through the camp. There's pictures of people up in the big house, people with war-torn eyes and cracked souls, but in the majority of them there's a boy with green eyes like the stormy sea and black hair like the depths of the ocean grinning up at the camera.

the son of poseidon by Nightingale231

T | 500 words | Complete

Percy Jackson & Poseidon

Powerful Percy Jackson, Deity Percy Jackson, Poseidon is a Good Parent

Percy can sense the way life flows in the beings around him, for the sea spawned life and life remembers that which brought it forth. Percy, who is the son of the sea, the son of the god of storms, the son of the unmade man who shakes the earth on a whim- He is nothing, he is everything, and he simply is.

too much fun by maverickk

T | 600 words | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Earthshaker Powers, Percy Jackson & Clarisse La Rue Friendship, Powerful Percy Jackson

An army marches on Camp Half-Blood. Chiron observes and Percy, Annabeth, and Clarisse team up to stop it.

Fatal Flaw by Phoenix_And_Thestral

G | 700 words | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson & Annabeth Chase

Post-Tartarus, Character Study, Powerful Percy Jackson

Annabeth knows just how much Percy loves her. Sometimes, it scares her.

Earthshaker by skyekingsleigh

T | 700 words | Complete

Percy Jackson & Annabeth Chase

Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Earthquakes, Tsunamis

Just the thought of her name was enough to make him lose control. Or: a heroes of olympus au based on the prompt, “what if hera had taken annabeth instead of percy?”

The myth, the legend, the man by pannaspanoply

G | 800 words | Complete

Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase, Camp Half Blood

Powerful Percy Jackson, Character Study, Non Canon Compliant - the Trials of Apollo

Percy was powerful - a look at his adventures could tell you that. When he was playing around with the rest of them at Camp Half Blood, though, it was easy to underestimate that.

Lupa is humbled by everdeen6

T | 900 words | Complete

Percy Jackson, Lupa

Powerful Percy Jackson, Smart Percy Jackson, Percy Jackson Needs a Hug

“There is room for improvement.” Lupa said haughtily as she turned and padded away leaving Perseus to stare at her retreating back with barely suppressed rage.  He had just fought off a pack of murderous wolves with just his bare hands. And nothing else.  ~ Or oneshots of my hoo rewrite

me and you and you and me (no matter how they tossed the dice) by kissofbelladonna

G | 1.0k+ | Ongoing as of 19/5/2022

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Powerful Percy Jackson, POV Annabeth Chase, Angst with a Happy Ending

Annabeth muses on Percy's powers and then sees them firsthand and the aftermath of that.

Hello there, Argo II (Aren’t you lucky to have a demigod fathered by the god of storms?) by Crystalcatgamer

G | 1.3k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Jason Grace & Piper McLean & Leo Valdez

Storms, Powerful Percy Jackson, POV Jason Grace

The group breaks off into its threes and twos, talking quietly to each other as the rain keeps beating down above deck, the ship rocking and trying not to jump with every loud boom of thunder. It starts getting less and less startling, and Jason thinks he might even be able to manage a light sleep like this, nestled among his fellow demigods. Then the ship shudders something fierce, and they hear Festus roar before it’s lost to the thundering rain. Everyone jolts up just as the ship leans to the side with a groan, sending people tumbling onto their sides. Jason scrambles for purchase, grabbing onto Piper and Leo before they hit the wall. Percy is braced against it, holding Annabeth protectively and looking at the ceiling as Leo swore something fierce. A nasty storm turns the Argo II into a glorified rollercoaster, and Percy steps out into the pouring rain to put a stop to it. (It is a difficult thing to remember that Poseidon is the god of storms, not Zeus.)

I'm not him and I'll never be as good by DiveInsideMyMind

G | 1.6k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Jason Grace, Percy Jackson & Piper McLean, Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Powerful Percy Jackson, Percy Jackson makes a hurricane

Jason Grace finally finds out why Percy Jackson is so respected.

you might wanna start with that next time by DiveInsideMyMind

G | 2.0k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson & The Seven

Powerful Percy Jackson, BAMF Percy Jackson

The prophesied demigods learn just how much Percy has done in his short life.

the waters connect them, unseen by Nightingale231 

T | 2.0k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Triton, Percy Jackson & Poseidon, Poseidon & Triton

Protective Poseidon, Family Fluff, BAMF Percy Jackson

Delphin doesn't know how they're doing it, but somehow it works. He can see Prince Perseus' body change a little, pink and blue scales bubbling just under his skin as King-prince Triton forces him to own up to his heritage. They are so similar in their instinct even when they are different. It's strange, especially to an outsider who happens to know that they didn't grow up together, because looking at them now - clashing but together, a force to be reckoned with - he wouldn't have been able to tell. (Percy, Triton, and Poseidon experiencing each other, from the views of outsiders and, eventually, themselves.)

fight for what's right by Astarisbroughtbacktolife

G | 2.4k | Complete

Percy Jackson, Grover Underwood, Clarisse La Rue, Chiron, Paul Blofis, Poseidon

Powerful Percy Jackson, Family, Loss of Control

Percy reconnects with Grover in his plan to test what he can do.

some things we can't just get away from by Astarisbroughtbacktolife

G | 2.7k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Paul Blofis

Powerful Percy Jackson, Paul Blofis being a dad, Mild Hurt/Comfort

Percy's powers are still growing, and he doesn't know what to do. Telling Paul Blofis is always a good place to start.

i'd live for you (and that's hard to do) by librawritings

T | 3.0k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Powerful Percy Jackson, Implied PTSD, Mentions of Tartarus

After Tartarus, one would hope that Percy and Annabeth catch a break. In fact, the opposite happens. Basically, Percy is powerful. Set between The House of Hades and The Blood of Olympus, because Rick didn't give us a Percy/Annbeth POV in the last book like we deserved, and I firmly believe Percy has god-level strength.

Split the sea by Multifandom_damnation

G | 3.2k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson & Poseidon, Nico di Angelo/Will Solace

Camp Half Blood, Post-Tartarus, Underwater

Camp Half-Blood is under attack by a hungry army of monsters who are doing everything they could to break down the barrier that surrounds the camp in order to get their meal. In a last-ditch effort, the camp suits up for another unwinnable war in which they will fight until they can stand no longer when Percy and Annabeth ride in on the back of a horse to save the day. And Percy, after feeling much more powerful since returning from Tartarus, pulls some tricks from the bible and gets the campers to safety.

terrorbane by Nightingale231

T | 3.3k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Nico di Angelo, Percy Jackson & Triton, Percy Jackson & Poseidon

Powerful Percy Jackson, Brotherly Bonding, Poseidon is a Good Parent

He laughs, wild and free with the power that come of the Storm and the Seas, and lets the earth beneath him give him strength as the Storm does around him. Zeus may be the god of thunder, of lightning, and the ruler of the Winds, but he was not the god of the storms. The Storm and the Seas envelop him as the earth feeds him its strength, and he keeps laughing. It tears itself out of his throat just as he tears a bloody trail through the horde of monsters and leaves nothing but the hint of gold dust suspended in the air. - Or, Percy comes into his full powers, Triton and Poseidon are good family members, and Percy is a fucking badass.

I can't see by DancingInTheSliverGlow 

T | 3.5k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Nico di Angelo/Will Solace, Percy Jackson & Nico di Angelo

Powerful Percy Jackson, Mrs. O'Leary saves the day, Hurt/Comfort

After the Giant War, Percy and Annabeth get kidnapped by one of Gaea's Giantesses who wants revenge on Percy for stopping her mother's plans to wake up. To defeat her, Percy goes all out with his powers as son of the earthshaker & natural disasters.

To be Known and Accepted by DancingInTheSliverGlow 

T | 3.8k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Hermes, Percy Jackson & Blackjack, background Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Whump, Good Friend Hermes, Powerful Percy Jackson

Percy senses the blood before he sees it, the way he can sense water, seas and oceans. It's only a matter of time before his powers leak out, and hurts someone. Chiron talks to him, but it doesn't help. Chiron doesn't know what happened; apparently Annabeth isn't speaking to him, and Percy sure as hell isn't about to spread the fact that he has power over poison, blood and ichor around. He even gets on Mr. D's nerves. The alcoholic god glares at him and says: "I could smite you. Turn your blood against you, your molecules to dust." All Percy can think is, yeah, so can I.

a rose by any other name by IzzyMRDB

T | 3.8k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Poseidon

Alternate Universe, Poseidon is a Good Dad, Eldritch Horror!Percy

It wasn't Poseidon who met Sally on that beach on Montauk, but rather a far older, much more ancient version of him. Percy is born far older and younger than he should be.

Suez Canal Shores, Greek Gods and Memes by DancingInTheSliverGlow

T | 7.3k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Hermes, Ever Given Container Ship/Suez Canal (Anthropomorphic)

Inspired by Tumblr, Crack Taken Seriously, Powerful Percy Jackson, Percy fights Ares and kicks his ass again

The Ever Given’s Captain sits down in his office and covers his face in his hands. This is a disaster. A complete flaming heap of landfill - sized disaster, that will probably haunt him for the rest of his life. ~ ~ ~ “Brother,” Hermes addressed Apollo in their native tongue. “Look.” Apollo looked up and glanced at Hermes’ phone, before laughing. “I’ve seen that meme already,” Apollo replied in ancient greek. “You’ll have to do better than that. Look at the one my son, Will Solace sent me.” Apollo held up his phone and Hermes glanced at it. It consisted of three screenshots illustrating the Ever Given as Ragnarök who would defeat Global Capitalism, as Hela. Hermes laughed. He had to admit, it was good. Apollo looked smug, as if to say that his children made better memes. Hermes narrowed his eyes and glared, as if to say aww Styx no before scrolling through his phone, looking for more memes created by his children. The competition was on.

The Burden of Our Mortal Misery by mrthology

M | 12k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Dionysus, Percy Jackson & Poseidon

Post-Tartarus, Developing Relationship, Powerful Percy Jackson

“Get up,” Dionysus ordered. Percy ignored him. As they always did, memories of Tartarus crept back, a hold on him that never quite left. Falling, falling, falling. Always falling, never quite clawing his way back to the surface. Dionysus hauled him to his feet, hands a burning brand. Percy panted and met his eyes, barely able to stand under the force of the god's divinity. He wondered if this was what people meant when they talked about the myths, why people loved and worshipped the gods and feared them in turn. Percy had never seen them as people to revere and love. They were cruel; petty. They had done nothing but treat Percy like a pawn in their schemes, then thrown him to the proverbial wolves once they’d been done with him. But he thought he was beginning to understand. He felt tiny before Dionysus, insignificant. It was more of a comfort than Percy wanted to admit. “What’s happening to me?” — Percy had left something of himself down in Tartarus, and he didn’t think he’d ever get it back. He wasn’t sure he wanted to.

Reprise by 60sec400

T | 14k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Poseidon is a Good Dad, Powerful Percy Jackson, Immortality

Percy knew he was different from the other people around him. He knew it. Two mortals notice more than they should, and they don't like what they see. But then he'd come to Camp Half-Blood, and he thought he might fit in. But he was different even there. Doubt creeps in like a haunting spectre and Percy has a run in with Truth. Fate is a bitch.

Walking Backward Into My Own Myth by mrthology

M | 19k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Time Loop, Percy Jackson Needs a Hug, Powerful Percy Jackson

"You should have ascended years ago," Zeus said without preamble, looking down at Percy. The other Olympians, even his father, remained silent, watching the proceedings with uncharacteristic solemnity. "I said no years ago," Percy snapped, rage making his voice tremble and hands shake. "I didn't want to be a God then, and I want to even less now. I've seen how horrible eternity is." "You would defy the fates themselves?" Athena asked softly, leaning forwards with narrowed eyes. She looked more godly than Percy had ever seen her, to the point where it was nearly unbearable to look at her face. Percy did so nevertheless, glaring at the Goddess he'd lost almost all respect for. "You had children die today," he snapped, desperate to return to Camp. "Annabeth could still die—hasn't she done enough?" ——— Or, Percy keeps living the same horrible day over and over and over again, regardless of what he does. Eventually, something will have to give. Percy just isn't sure what.

some have entertained angels unaware by Skywalking_through_life

T | 21k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson, Percy Jackson & Paul Blofis, background Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Post-Gaea & The Second Giant War, POV Outsider, Powerful Percy Jackson

"Slumping at the table next to his now slightly raspy stepfather, Percy decided to make one last appeal. "Paul, you can't seriously think me dying of frostbite or exposure on the way to see the Statue of Liberty for the eighty-millionth time is a good death, right? Like, I could do so much better." Paul shrugged, eyes dancing. "I'm not the expert on death in this family, Perce. But I do imagine it's probably more heroic than dying of boredom in US Government class?"' Percy didn't think there was a god of field trips, but if there was...he was pretty sure that they hated him.

I am not what I expected (The poison just didn't take) by dcninja

M | 30k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Hermes, Percy Jackson & Hades, Percy Jackson & Poseidon, Percy Jackson & Kymopoleia

Percy Jackson Needs a Hug, Ascension, Powerful Percy Jackson

After the War against Gaea, Percy finds himself struggling in the life he worked so hard to get back to. The more he tries to fit back in, pushing down his powers and emotions after the war, the more things seem to fall apart. As Olympus prepares to officially reopen at the Winter Solstice, Hermes takes notice that something is off with the Savior of Olympus. But when he asked for help from Hades, none of them could imagine what Percy’s trip to the Pit led to and what it will mean for the hero. Or Percy finally reckons with the consequences of challenging Akhlys with a little help from his immortal family, who he might be around for a lot longer than he thought.

Fishing in Alaska by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle

G | 112k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Triton, Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson & Poseidon

Family Feels, PTSD, Triton is a Good Sibling

[Note: fic was deleted from ao3. Link is to a google drive copy. The hassle is worth it].

“This… this would qualify as a mental breakdown, right?” Triton asked, frowning over his shoulder to where Percy was still fuming in the corner. The lady at the counter curiously glanced over before lifting a questioning brow. “My brother – half-brother, technically, I have much better breeding – decided to run away from home to where our father can’t reach him and now he won’t leave. And now I can’t leave unless he leaves,” Triton continued. Percy opened his mouth to object that wasn’t what happened at all, but the tyrant only waved a hand to silence him. “He’s seen war or whatever, so if you could maybe just drug him then I’ll throw him into a suitcase and we can be out of here by the Summer Solstice!” Silence. Finally, the woman cleared her throat and turned to Percy. “I’m guessing he’s the one you want checked into the mental hospital?” She asked. Triton gasped as Percy punched the air in victory. “Aha!” Or: Getting in trouble works a little differently when your parent is an all-powerful god. Sometimes you have to escape to the land beyond gods and get your immortal brother turned human to drag you back so you can be exploded a million pieces. You know, normal teenage stuff.

alone at the edge of a universe by Sarcastic_Metaphor

M | 281k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson, Percy Jackson & Poseidon, More Relationships

Chaos!Percy, Percy Jackson Needs a Hug, Powerful Percy Jackson

The sea is not unlike the abyss; it is deadly, destructive. It hides secrets in its depths and threatens even those that know it well. The sea easily swallows life with no trace left behind. The sea can be quite similar to oblivion. But when the mood strikes them, both the oceans and the abyss can be tempted to create life instead. Or, a complete AU rewrite from pre-canon through all five PJO books: Percy is born a little less human and a little more otherworldly than healthy. With powers he was never meant to have, and a third parent he never wanted, the plans that the Fates originally made for him will be torn asunder.

[philaet0s]

Celebrity/Social Media AU - Part 32

Previous Part: Part 31

Next Part: Part 33

The full AU is now posted on my ao3!

Simon

Making my way backstage during the concert is definitely the worst part of my day. I nearly get lost, even though I’ve done walked the opposite way only about two hours ago and someone who works here gave me clear and detailed instructions. When I arrive in Baz’s dressing room, Keris, who is in charge of all of Baz’s and his musician’s stage outfits, immediately points at a pair of slacks and a crisp white shirt. “Put them on, quick.”

I would not dare risk disobeying her. She looks stressed. Everyone who works with Baz on his tour looks stressed.

The clothes fit me perfectly, and yet, I’ve never tried them on before, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Baz had my clothing sizes memorised, so.

“You should have makeup on if you’re going on stage,” Keris comments, as she rolls up my sleeves artfully.

“Nah, there’s no time for that,” I say. I purposely left the show very late so there would be no time for makeup. I don’t want any of that stuff on my face, it’s itchy. “I should go now, he’s going to finish the song soon.”

“You’re right. Just one last thing… Turn around please.”

When I do, she tucks in my shirt more than I had, then untucks it a little. “Perfect. Go.”

…And I now have to do more walking around.

Thankfully, the distance is not so big this time, and there are people to guide me. They all look even more stressed than Keris. I don’t think the people who work with him are very happy with Baz’s latest idea… I feel bad for them, but I, for one, am too excited about his idea to be fully compassionate.

I’m right behind the stage now, and Baz has finished his songs. Normally, he moves on straight to the next one, but tonight, Agatha, Niamh, Dev and Niall all stop playing.

“Hey, so…” His voice quickly get drowned out by people cheering. I peek to watch the audience. He waits for them to have gotten a little less loud to continue. “So… London… We know each other very well, you and I… I live in this city. I’ve lived in this city for a long time, but for a few years, I’ve lived in this city with someone very special… Someone who is here, tonight.”

Though none of their faces are clear from this far away, I can tell people in the public turn towards the VIP area, where I was sitting a few minutes ago. Of course, some of them already knew I was here. I even had a few people come and talk to me, like I was the celebrity, it was odd but not totally unpleasant.

While they were busy trying to find me, someone brought the chair that, in a matter of two shows, has become very famous in his fandom. It’s now placed behind him.

“No… Not over there… He’s here tonight,” Baz says, with emphasis. I can hear the smile in his voice a few seconds before I see it as he turns to me, extending a hand.

The crowd goes wild. Loud cheering and clapping accompany my entrance.

Once I’m close enough, I take Baz’s hand. Mine is sweaty. It is intimidating standing in front of tens of thousands of people. I don’t know how Baz does it so confidently.

He mouths ‘Hi, love,’ as he squeezes my hand before holding his mic up to his lips again. “My partner, my muse… My Simon. Everyone, say hello to Simon,” he says, pointing the microphone at the public, who scream in return. “Good. See, it’s not so hard being well-behaved?”

More cheering. They love it when he’s flirty with them. (I could not blame them).

“Simon is going to help me with tonight’s performance, if you don’t mind.” With how loud they are, I doubt they mind. “I thought that I could do something special for the last shows of this incredible tour, the shows in this city that is so dear to me. I hope you’ll like my surprise, London!”

And with that, he pushes me down on the chair, hard enough to look good for the audience, but not so hard that the chair –or I– will fall.

At the same time, the band starts playing the first notes of Hands Down. A song from the first album he wrote about me. The dirtiest song on the first album he wrote about me.

He puts the mic back on the stand, switching to his headset microphone.

Sit back and enjoy. Touch me if you feel like it. That’s all the instructions he gave me when he exposed his idea to me. Which is really no instructions at all. And he didn’t tell me what he was going to do in any specific way, so I’m discovering his ‘surprise’ for London with the same excitement as the audience.

At first, it’s rather tame. He walks around the chair, singing the first verse of the song. The tips of his fingers are dragging along my collarbones, the top of my arms, my shoulder blades. Teasingly.

I’m focusing on the lyrics as much as on what he’s doing, and it makes me realise that that is what he does in the song too, in the first verse. It’s all teasing. He’s using that sexy, sultry voice, he sings a little slowly, drags the ends of some of his words, none of which are overtly sexual yet.

Then, as his lyrics become more explicit, so does his performance.

He’s behind me, and he drags his hands down my chest, until his fingers reach the waistband of my trousers. He lowers his head to, angling it as if he was whispering in my ear. His hands are slower on their way back up. They play with the top button of my shirt, to eventually undo it. And the one underneath it too. He places his lips close to my neck, to mime kissing it. I shiver all the same as I feel his breath on my skin.

He straightens up. He walks around the chair again until he’s in front of me. Almost mechanically, my legs open wider, something that I may feel ashamed about later. Not now, though. Absolutely not now. Because now he’s in front of me, singing those scandalous lyrics, looking better than he ever has. Because now he’s brought me in front of the crowd of his sold-out Wembley Stadium concert to show me off.

Because now he’s going down on his knees, in the space I just freed.

Jesus fucking Christ.

It’s the first time since his performance began that I notice the audience. The sounds they just made could probably be heard on the other side of the city. His hands are back on me, on my knees and then up my thighs. If he was actually going to… his lips would be following. He loves kissing my thighs. It’s his favourite spot for hickeys.

Instead, because having his face between my thighs might be too sexual even for him –or perhaps because he wants to spare me the embarrassment of getting hard on stage– he keeps his head right where it is, and looks up at me, with an intensity in his eyes that makes me feel hot all over.

For the final part of his song, he stands back up, only long enough to sit on my lap. To straddle one of my legs, more accurately. They’re too far apart for him to fit on both at the same time.

His own leg is practically pressed to my crotch, simply because it’s too damn long for it to fit in any other way, which is not helping lower my body temperature.

He’s rolling his hips now, like he does when he’s riding me. Same pace, too. One of his hands is toying with a button of my shirt he hasn’t undone and the other is on my shoulder, for balance.

He leans in, as if he was kissing me, but he doesn’t, of course he doesn’t, he’s singing, but my body reacts all the same. One of my hands holds the dip of his back, to keep him close, and the other flies up to his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. He smiles, and it changes the way he sings. I think I could die, right here and now. I know we’re in front of a whole stadium of people, but that moment feels so intimate, so beautiful.

Already, much too soon, he gets to the end of song. I don’t want it to be over yet. God, couldn’t he write a 20-minute song?

The last lyrics are sung close to my face, his breath brushing my lips.

And when he finishes, he kisses me. Actually kisses me.

[pommetarte]

♡ Liebling ♡

michael kaiser x reader highschool au fluff a bit of romance, the start of a relationship Strangers to friends to lovers

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

"Hey, come back!" A voice called out, "You didn't give me your number yet!"

Queue to you running in the hallways away from a certain German who's been bothering you after his match just finished.

"Wait, wait, where are you going?"

You could hear him screaming out to you, but you just ignored the noises and continued running.

Prior to this predicament, it was just you and your friend who "invited" (she actually just dragged you to watch the match between your school and another local high school for a sports cup). The players of your school have been doing well so far, already making it to the finals, which was today. The crowd goes wild for every goal achieved; everyone was hyped.

Everyone had their gaze focused on a single player, though. Who else but Michael Kaiser, the German prodigy of your high school? The ace, the sole star, is God's chosen emperor. Anyone should be grateful to be in his presence; the cheers grew louder with each passing moment, much to your dismay.

You had a small scowl plastered on your face from how overwhelming the entire match was. Sports are just not your thing.

The hype did not die down; in fact, it grew tenfold. There was loud cheering and chanting as the break finished and it was time to resume.

Time flew by fast, as now the trophy is in the hands of your school. Clapping erupted in the field as people whistled and chattered. Your school won the cup yet again. It was no surprise after all.

When the match was over, you quickly took your chance to escape. Sadly, your escape didn't go unnoticed by a certain someone as a larger figure began sprinting towards you.

' What could this idiot want?' you thought to yourself.

A hand was placed on your shoulder, causing you to turn your head around and face whoever was reaching out to you. To your surprise, it was Michael Kaiser. With a wide grin on his face and a confident demeanor, he strode towards you, flaunting himself.

"Hey, what's your name, Liebling?" he says, trying to strike up a conversation with you amidst the crowd swarming him.

It was just not your day. Exhausted and drained, you only sighed and turned around, continuing your way back to the classrooms to pick up your belongings and leave, hopefully back home.

Kaiser did not appreciate that; he continued to follow you, determined to not give up, as he shooed the crowd away. Seeing your pace increase instantly made him pick up his, and soon enough, it became a chase amidst the hallway, with him occasionally yelling for you to stop.

That's basically what led to you being trapped in a corner with him pestering you about your number and other details. Why would he want to know your class, schedule, and even subjects? It was so out of character.

Exasperated, you responded, telling him your name with a deadpan look. You looked so gorgeous even when irritated, he thought to himself.

He then looks at you with a genuine smile adorning his handsome face.

"Wow. You look so cool in that outfit. I almost want to say you're wearing that with love, but I guess I'll just call it curiosity. Oh my, how I've been missing out. I've never been with someone who made me feel this much joy." He muses loudly, proud of what he just said.

Your face had the most shocked look, as you could not believe what you heard. You could feel a blush slowly creeping onto your face as you averted your gaze.

"We can't just suddenly become friends; we barely even know each other. I only know you as a football  player."You protested, trying to cover your face.

"so? Is that even a problem?" he asked nonchalantly.

'Yes, of course it is; you don't just suddenly befriend strangers!"

"Well, I do if it's you," he winks.

You don't know whether to hit him or feel flattered.

"Anyways, can I please have your number? I really think you're cute. I've seen you around for a while, and you're always so pleasant and caring. I'd like to be friends, or maybe even more," he smiles, holding out his phone to you.

'Fine, just don't bother me too much, ok?" you say. You won't lie to yourself, but in fact, being in his attention made you feel all flustered. You feel your face heating up and the temperature rising.

Kaiser took note of it and slipped in a comment, earning a small smack from you before you typed in your number.

After you just walked away, Kaiser didn't stop you, only smiling as he looked down on the name he saved on his phone.

"Liebling ♡"

He whispers as he saves the number, his eyes resting on your figure as you leave.

And this was the beginning of what you'd like to call a very close 'friendship', although it was nothing like that at all.

Well, it blossomed into something more than that. 

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

[happyhauntt]

a writer & his muse — sirius black

writing masterlist | askbox

─── summary: renowned mystery writer sirius black has a new muse, and it just so happens to be the homicide detective who hates him. (castle!au)

─── pairing: mystery writer!sirius black x detective!reader.

─── warnings: fluffy banter, mild threats of violence, sirius is a little bastard and knows it, honestly just a fun time. muggle au.

─── word count: 1k.

You're not entirely sure what you did to deserve this sort of punishment.

The station is pretty quiet when you arrive, as it usually is this early in the morning. A sigh of relief escapes you as you arrive at your desk, dropping your bag at the foot of your chair, and you realise that aforementioned punishment — the newest irritation in your life — has yet to arrive.

You’d really love to know what you did to deserve this. Whether you accidentally pissed off some ancient deity, or cut in line at the supermarket so your cosmic karma is unbalanced, or perhaps your boss just really hates you, even though he invited you to his birthday barbecue a few months ago and had called you, endearingly, the 'best detective he'd ever trained.'

You hadn't thought he could be harbouring a secret grudge against you, but really, what other reason could there be for this kind of punishment?

And it is a punishment. Of that, you have no doubt. It is a tooth-grinding, migraine-inducing kind of punishment, and if you weren't acutely aware of the consequences, you might have tried to murder him by now.

Him being, of course, the world-famous mystery writer, Sirius Black.

What a smarmy, egotistical little bastard.

From the very moment he sauntered into the station, wearing a beat-up leather jacket and a devil-may-care smirk, you'd known your life was about to get complicated. Or, well, more complicated.

Your job is difficult enough, chasing down criminals and solving murders all day, without having a nosy moron breathing down your neck, spouting crackpot conspiracy theories when the evidence is much more straightforward.

You hear his footsteps on the linoleum before he strolls around the corner, clutching a cup of takeout coffee in each hand. He sets one of them on the desk in front of you, brandishing a crooked grin like a weapon.

"How is my lovely muse this morning?" He winks at you as he slumps into a nearby chair, pulled close to the corner of your desk for research purposes. You wonder if he's ever heard the phrase 'personal space'.

Your lip curls. A slew of paperwork has been spread across your desk for an hour, all related to the case you solved earlier in the week, where Black had been, surprisingly, somewhat helpful. Your boss had been liberal with his praise, and Black's ego had puffed up to an insufferable degree.

Unfortunately, you're now reaping the consequences.

"Considering if I can kill you and make it look like an accident," you reply, your voice flat. You sniff the coffee before taking a sip. Annoyance punches through you when you realise he has your coffee order memorised. You want to bury him in a shallow grave.

Black leans back in his chair, a wide grin sweeping over his face. "If anyone could, it would be you."

"Does any part of this shadowing gig involve helping me with the, frankly ridiculous, amount of paperwork you generate?"

He purses his lips in thought for a moment before shaking his head. Strands of shaggy black hair fall around his face. "Never really written the paperwork into my books. A bit boring, you know. Nothing the readers want to bother with."

You roll your eyes. "And yet, Mr Black, you insist on bothering me."

"Sirius, please." He chuckles at you. How were you unlucky enough to catch his attention? How insane is he, wanting to follow a homicide detective around for research on his new book? "Mr Black is my father, and a large part of the reason I write mysteries, not horror." He feigns a shudder.

"Mr Black," you say, fixing him with an unamused glare. "When, exactly, do you think you'll be finished with your book?"

"Detective, you wound me!" He splays his hand over his chest, just above his heart. You try not to stare at the tattoos flexing across his knuckles, or the way his shirt goes tight across his chest. "Here I was, thinking you enjoyed our time together."

"Like a hole in the head," you mutter.

There's a teasing twinkle in his eyes. He takes a long sip of his own coffee while you return your attention to the paperwork, scribbling your signature in the appropriate places.

Every once in a while, you can feel him watching you. Eyes like swirls of cigarette smoke, analysing your every move. There’s an odd little tick he has, his fingers tapping an unfamiliar rhythm against his leg. Whether the sound is soothing or frustrating, you can’t quite decide.

The shrill ringing of your desk phone startles you both. He’s trying not to laugh, you can tell, as your hand darts out to answer it.

I wonder if this is how zoo animals feel, you think to yourself as you listen to the officer on the other end of the line. You scratch the information out onto a post-it note, an address and a few other key details, before hanging up.

He’s a bundle of energy beside you. His knee bounces, and there’s a gleam in his eyes that is beyond inappropriate, considering the circumstances of your job and his so-called research.

It’s like being stalked by a golden retriever, except you’re certain you would prefer the dog over Sirius Black’s presence.

“Grab your coat, Mr Black. We’ve got a body.” You push yourself away from your desk, filing the paperwork away in the drawer for later.

He bounces to his feet with a level of enthusiasm that should, frankly, be illegal.

“Try to be a little less excited,” you say in a chiding, exhausted voice as you lead him out of the station. “Someone is dead.”

“I’ll try to be as macabre as possible, detective,” he assures you. He climbs into the passenger seat of your car, drumming his fingers against his leg in that bizarre non-rhythm again. “I’ll channel my mother. You know, I based one of my characters on her…”

Tuning him out is easier said than done, but you do your best. The book must be nearly finished. How much more research can he possibly do?

You just have to grit your teeth and bear his presence for a few more weeks. You just have to make sure you don’t kill him for a few more weeks. He’ll surely get bored of you and find a new muse at some point, right?

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

I just had this thought, what if reader is from the time of when the real writers existed? Dazai would totally be jealous of his real self for being able to unalive lmao. And ranpo and his real self...

Yeah... It ofc wouldn't be possible since that means reader would have to be from the 60's? But I just had this sudden thought lol

Actually, I have an idea for that.

I kind off have a sub-au for Self-Aware BSD AU. "The Sandman" inspired AU.

Reader are Dream.

An eternal deity, Master of Dreams, Ruler of Nightmares, Patron of Artists, Architectures, Writers. The Muse.

They saw them all.

Visible for them and their families, Reader saw their lives and their deaths.

Reader's kingdom is accessible for both living and for deceased. So, BSD Characters up to some interesting encounters.

-Short idea time-

You and BSD Cast are having a tea party.

Y/N: Please, be careful while wishing for something in my kingdom. With powers of Dreams you can achieve many great things, but, at the same time, you can fall from grace by using it.

/Suddenly, everyone is hearing barking from the next room. You rolled your eyes./

Y/N: Not again...

/RL! Dazai Osamu stormed into the room and, somehow, jumped on your shoulders. A small pack of pugs is following him. RL! Nakahara Chuuya is glaring at Dazai from the next room./

Y/N: looking at RL!Chuuya, trying not to move so much, so RL! Dazai won't fall down. Chuuya, how many times did I tell you not to wish for dogs so you can scare away Osamu? with a wave of a hand make pugs disappear. RL! Chuuya still looked pleased, left without the world.

/You look up. RL! Dazai seems pretty content with staying up on your shoulders. He is looking at BSD Cast with slight curiosity. You continue talking to BSD Characters, not paying attention to their shocked gazes./

Y/N: Where were I.... Right, dream powers...

/BSD Dazai raise his hand/

BSD! Dazai: [Y/N], is that..?

[Y/N]: nod Mhm. Our Dazai Osamu. The one, who succeed. slightly clap RL! Dazai on the ankle At least say 'Hello', if you are planning to stay on my shoulders.

/RL! Dazai takes another look at BSD! Gang. Pinches your ear./

RL! Dazai: Dream, why is a redhead in a hat makes me feel so angry?

[Y/N]: sighs Because I overdid it, when Kafka and Harukawa asked for more stories about writers.

/BSD! Dazai is speechless. On one hand, he felt jealous for looking at hos namesake, who succeeded. On the other hand, it was so weird, looking at your double? Prototype?/

/You looked up at RL/Dazai/

[Y/N]: I will tell everyone what is happening later.

/RL! Dazai hopped down on the floor./

RL! Dazai: Waiting for it. Well, see you around. /ready to leave, when he remembered something/ By the way, two lovebirds were looking for you. Want to have a shooting competition and asked you to be the judge.

/You hide your face in both hands./

[Y/N]: If you are talking about Verlaine and Rimbaud, remind them, that they still not allowed to touch any sort of weapon. cover both of your wrists under your shirt¹ If you are talking about Ranpo and Iwata, then I will free in a few hours.

/RL! Dazai nods and, after saying goodbye to BSD Cast, leave. The room is silent./

BSD! Ranpo: barely a whisper I have so many questions... And I am so afraid to ask...

/You smile/

[Y/N]: Don't think about it too much. You will get used to it.

/RL! Oda Sakunosuke barge into the room./

RL! Oda: [Y/N]! Goncharov and Turgenev got drunk and start arguing about plagiarism!²

/You stand up and hurry after the Oda/

[Y/N]: Stay here! I will be back in a few minutes.

/BSD Gang looked at each other. They have a feeling, that their lives will be interesting/

______

¹Real life Verlaine shot Rimbaud in the wrist once. Apparently, Dream also was shot by him.

² Real life Turgenev and Goncharov had a huge argument, that ended in court. Goncharov thought, that Turgenev stole the plot of "The Precipice" for his novel "Home of the Gentry". Goncharov shared his ideas about "The Precipice" with Turgenev, so he had the reason to think about it. Judge make Turgenev took too similar plot points from the book.

[desceros]

okay, okay, okay, so I like, I wrote down my musings and wanted to show you, the master of the au, so you, GB, and everyone can squueee and go even more insane? this isn't me fishing (heh. nice) for hints or anything, I just wanted to share my thoughts with you Des, all of these questions are rhetorical 👍

I am so curious to know how much the language barrier affects Donnie in the au. fisherman-chan knows Donnie's name, does he know theirs? is it the most beautiful name to him, or just a sound, do you even bother trying to tell him? does he lie awake during the day, trying to sleep but can't because he's desperately trying to decipher the sounds you make? He sees you trying so hard to communicate with him, patterns going round and round. Does he yearn to know you? Does he wonder about your birth story, how you feel about rain? that haunting melody you hum to yourself when you're thinking about something sad, what is it called? does he harbor this curiosity about you, the way you do about him?

I'm assuming there isn't a land equivalent to the eldritch fish/loopieness for his end, I love the concept of them both sometimes being frustrated by this! they want to understand each other so badly!! and they do, in their own way, in their own time, deeper than many will ever hope to know their true love *heart eyes* but can you imagine Lavi just casually dropping fisherman-chan lore to her dad? Like, for example, Lavi randomly asks you about YOUR family, "Momma, did you ever have a mama and papa once? Did you play games with your Papa like I do? What games did you play??" and you get so sad, obvi, and Donnie can tell but he maybe wasn't paying enough attention before, so fisherman-chan is tearing up trying to explain their family lore, and Lavi is starting to get distressed, and Donnie has to ask Lavi what's happening because he can't understand just the words alone. and he's horrified all these years he didn't know because he couldn't ask, because you couldn't tell him? it just, ah... never came up in conversation... he knew you were alone, but... it's different hearing from his child what you couldn't tell him yourself. the meat of it, ya know? the gritty details (age appropriate for Lavi, of course, but all the same).

I've got more! I can keep going! but, I think for now this ask may be long enough, don't want to *finger guns* go overboard 😅

i do so Love a good pun ✨

first i'll say that i am far from master of the au! gb is very much a co-creator, and yorshie and cleric have been doing a lot of good work with it as well. gb and i do most of it, but it wouldn't be the same without everyone's input!

as for your questions... most of them i'll leave to answer in future fics, hehe. i will say that donnie doesn't really understand english, no. the only way you two can "talk" is when your brain gets close enough to madness for you to understand him. and for names, well... it's kind of canon that fishermen don't really have names, or at least, they don't matter. to donnie, you're just you. mine. the thing that i love. gave me a pretty baby. that and rudimentary sign language. pointing. gestures. miming things. but it's largely either non-verbal or done when you're very, very close to loopy.

anywho, jazz hands!!! i'm soooo so so so so delighted you're enjoying. we're all TOTALLY NORMAL about dredge au (<- said while hiding all of the towels from where i've mopped up my profuse bleeding)

[marvelmusing]

Morning Tea

Pairing: Vampire!Aleksander Morozova x Vampire!Fem!Reader (Modern AU)

Part 2 of the Tender Loving Care AU

Summary: Aleksander kept his word, staying with you for the night, and he plans to keep his word by teaching you how to make blood tea.

Warnings: blood consumption, allusion to sex, usual vampire vibes, aside from that it’s all fluff

A/N: not extensively proofread, I started writing this when I was half asleep and the words just sort of happened?

My Masterlist

The first thing you notice is how warm you are. For the past few days you’ve struggled to heat up your undead body, or retain any warmth once you’ve gained it. Yet here you are, lying cosy in bed. Then the scent hits you.

Familiar and safe. Those are the only two words your sleep-filled mind can gather together to describe the scent. A steady heartbeat and even breaths are what makes you realise there’s someone else in your bed, and the sound of a turning page alerts you to the fact that they aren’t asleep.

“Aleksander?” You mumble, your words are still soft and sleepy. His answer is a very low sound, that vibrates against his chest where your head is lying.

“Hm?”

“You stayed.” He closes whatever book he’s been reading softly, not wanting the noise to startle you.

“Of course I did.”

In your sleep, your arm has been curled up between his chest and yours, so you stretch it out with a minute groan of exertion before you let it drape over Aleksander’s middle. He pets the top of your head tenderly.

“How are you feeling?”

You blink a few times, before you remember your migraine. Assessing your body, the only thing you’re feeling currently is the urge to never leave this bed. Nuzzling closer to Aleksander, you drop your face down into the crook of his neck, which is where you mumble out your answer.

“Right as rain.” He breathes out a small laugh at your choice of expression, and places the book he had located back down on your bedside table.

“Regardless, you should take it easy over the next few days.”

You hum in acknowledgement, but soon become distracted by his scent. It’s so much stronger near his neck, and you know it’s due to the arteries there because your fangs are beginning to ache with an urge to affectionately bite him. Briefly you wonder whether that’s something vampires do to one another.

“You smell really really good.”

He chuckles in response to your quiet musings.

“You smell rather delectable yourself, milaya.”

“I do?”

There’s surprise in your voice. You always assumed that any appeal your blood had once had must have disappeared on the night you were turned. Of course Aleksander smelled divine, but you couldn’t even fathom him feeling the same way for you.

“Yes you do.”

A giddy feeling fills your chest, and you shift your body even closer to his. His arm curls around you, pressing you right where you want to be. The two of you spend a long moment in each other’s space; you can’t remember the last time you felt so contented.

The sound of his breathing is so steady and resilient, you find yourself eagerly waiting for the next inhale, allowing the motion of his chest to rock you further back towards sleep.

“Milaya.” He murmurs softly in such a low voice even you barely hear it. Lazily, your eyelids flutter open and you look up at him from under your sleep heavy lashes. A soft smile curls at the corner of his lips. “Do you need a nap, little one?”

You nod sleepily. His lips press against your forehead in a soothing gesture of reassurance.

“Go back to sleep.” He encourages you. “I’ll be here when you wake.”

His words are already in the distance, as your body grows heavy and your mind slips away back into sleep.

As your thoughts fade you come to a realisation. Usually when you awoke you were overwhelmed by the noises of the city outside, jolted into anxiety at the slightest of sounds: the apartment above you, a breeze against your window, sometimes even Alina’s heart beating in the room next to yours was too much.

But this morning, all you had focused on was Aleksander, and what a peaceful moment that had been. Once you’ve drifted off, Aleksander takes the opportunity to look around your room in the daylight. From his position on your bed of course. If he moved it’s likely you would wake, and he doesn’t have the heart to pull you away from such well needed rest.

He observes the large bookcase in the corner, that vaguely resembles a dragon’s lair with how you’ve hoarded the volumes that line the shelves. There’s piles of books on your desk, under the desk, and in the corner where a few cushions and a blanket have been nestled in a spot now illuminated by the sunlight filtering through the curtains.

All vampires have a sensitivity towards bright light, which Aleksander supposes is what started the myth that they were adverse to sunlight. Your light sensitivity seems to be particularly delicate, given the lack of any large lighting fixtures in your room. There’s a set of string lights hung along the wall and a salt lamp stashed away in your reading corner. Aside from that, there’s no other lighting.

Given the placement of your designated reading corner, in direct sunlight, and the sheer number of cosy cushions and soft blankets in your space, you were a vampire who liked warmth. His heart aches a little at the thought of you, a little fledgling vampire shivering in the cold and unable to produce your own body heat.

Subconsciously, he adjusts his arm around you, keeping you close as you snuggle into his chest. Closing his eyes, he tilts his head and rests it against one of your pillows that he had propped up against the headboard when he woke. Inhaling deeply, he begins with the scent furthest away from him.

Your perfume sits on the desk, a delicate little bottle adorned with a simple flower on its lid, the smell is light and fresh, a perfect compliment for your own natural scent. His attention trails over each and every bottle of lotion and moisturiser, breathing in the differences in how they smell.

Every one of them acts as a layer of who you are, and as his focus comes closer to where he’s sitting he can smell your shampoo’s sweet scent, accompanied by your body wash and lotion, which all soften when he shifts his attention solely onto your body.

Underneath all these layers, he can still smell the unique fragrance of your body, sweetened by your blood. You had seemed surprised earlier, when he had mentioned how enticing your blood was for him. You smell even more delectable now that you’re well fed, warm and cosy from sleep, and so hooked on his own scent.

Turning his head aside, his eyes open slowly and he spots the book he had been reading when you awoke earlier. A notebook. Curiosity has always been a weakness of Aleksander’s. Imagine his surprise when he opened up the notebook and read his name on the very first line. The first few pages had been filled with random pieces of information. Harmless things. His birthdate. His favourite books.

It was clear you had been saving this notebook for something special. It was quite an old notebook, with a deep teal cover, adorned with thin golden embellishments and a worn gold clasp to keep the yellowed pages sealed away safely. It really was a lovely notebook, and to have his name be the first thing you had deemed important enough to spoil the empty pages with has a warm feeling settling in his chest.

Aleksander hears your breathing shift, and you stir lightly. It won’t be long before you’re awake again. He spends the rest of his time watching the slow rise and fall of your chest. Your hand slides up the mattress, smoothing over the sheets as you stretch slightly.

“Aleksander.” You mumble, blinking blearily up at him before you press your face back into the crook of his neck.

“Yes, milaya?”

“What time is it?” He hums as he turns to look at the clock on your bedside table.

“Approaching noon.”

Once those words leave his lips he begins to shuffle away from your body, towards the side of the bed.

You whine, a needy desperate noise, as he attempts to detach himself from your arms. He garners some success, managing to sit up on the edge of the bed with one of his feet on the floor.

“Just a few more minutes, please?” He presses a pacifying kiss to your forehead and you wrap your arms around his waist tightly.

“I can go make our tea and bring it to you.” He suggests. You shake your head against his stomach as you protest with a small pout on your lips.

“You promised to show me how to make it properly.”

“Well you’ll just have to join me then, won’t you?” He teases with affection in his voice. Tilting your head aside, you listen to the sounds in the rest of the apartment for the first time since you woke up.

“Alina’s home. With company.” You state. Aleksander merely nods, it’s likely he will have noticed their presence before you had.

“They’re both still asleep.” He adds. His forehead crinkles slightly as you push the bed covers away from you and he stands. “I thought Alina said she doesn’t know any other vampires?”

Confusion pulls at your brows, then you realise why Alina’s scent is different this morning, because she’s currently sleeping next to a vampire.

“She doesn’t. Or didn’t. I assume she met her new friend last night.”

“Ah.” You pick up a pair of fluffy socks, pulling them onto your feet one by one. “Is that a regular occurrence?” You shrug lightly.

“On occasion. Alina certainly isn’t afraid of the supernatural.”

Tugging on an old sweatshirt that hangs low enough to cover the shorts you’re wearing, you follow Aleksander into your kitchen where he begins to make enough tea for the both of you.

With a small jump, you hoist yourself up onto the countertop, opening a cupboard and selecting a mug each for you both. Aleksander opens up your fridge, picking up a carton of milk as his eyes scan over the clear glass bottles filled with blood.

“Do you prefer it softer or stronger?” You hesitate for a moment, swinging your legs lightly as you consider his question.

“Stronger in the morning.” He nods, picking up a particular bottle. Aleksander doesn’t need to look at the label, from the scent alone he knows what type it is, but he glances at the expiry date just as a precaution. Still in date, as he thought.

Blood tea is more of a colloquial term for a drink that isn’t actually tea. It’s similar to tea, but different types of blood act as a substitute to whatever variety of tea leaves a human would use.

Aleksander explains the process as the water begins to boil in the kettle.

“Water first, then stir in the milk. After it’s settled for a moment pour in the blood and stir it. You don’t take sugar do you?”

You shake your head in response.

“That must be what I was doing wrong.” You muse, and he hums, encouraging you to continue as he pours the boiling water into your mugs. “I put the blood in first, then the water, then the milk.”

He nods in agreement.

“My method is half water, and then a quarter each of milk and blood. Though I believe that part will depend on personal preference.”

His fingers are elegant in their movements as they stir the milk into the boiling water, careful not to tap the metal spoon against the porcelain, as if he knows that the sharp sound will upset your contented state. He waits a moment before he uncaps the blood, and pours in a portion for each of you.

He stirs them again, before he hands you the mug with a little extra blood in.

“Careful, milaya. It’s hot.”

Boiling liquid doesn’t scald your tongue like it would to a human, and Aleksander is well aware that you delight in being warm. He doesn’t look surprised when you hum gratefully as your hands curl around the mug.

He watches you as you bring it to your lips. A pleased noise blooms in your throat as the heat hits your tongue, to be followed by the creamy taste of blood tea. Your eyes flutter closed as you allow the perfect taste to linger on your tongue. Once your eyes are open again, you find Aleksander watching you.

Warmth blooms over your cheeks, and you enjoy the flush of blood spreading down your neck. A smirk quirks at the corner of Aleksander’s mouth as he lifts his own mug to his lips, he appears to enjoy making you flush.

“It’s wonderful.” You tell him earnestly, and a thrill runs through you when you notice the very tips of his ears going red.

“Thank you.” He says softly, his eyes still on yours. You don’t look away, even when you call out quietly to the figure trudging towards the kitchen penninsula.

“Morning Lina.”

She mumbles a response back to you as she settles on one of the stools on the opposite side of the peninsula. Blinking a few times, she rubs her eyes before she adds with a small grin,

“Morning, Aleksander.”

He nods in greeting.

“Good morning, Alina. Tea?” She nods, and Aleksander reaches for the box of tea that Alina is fond of. She looks back at you with a small crease between her brows.

“Are you feeling better?” You nod, taking another sip of your tea.

“A lot better.” A small smile creeps over your lips as you think about what a perfect evening it was. “Thank you.”

You never would have had the courage to message Aleksander and ask him to come and take care of you like he had. Without Alina’s interference, you would have likely just festered on the couch for however long it took for your migraine to pass.

Aleksander hands Alina her mug of tea, and you open a cupboard to locate the sugar for her.

When the sound of movement in Alina’s room catches your attention, you tilt your head aside to listen to the fumbling of clothes being pulled on. From the look in your eyes as you glance in that direction, Alina can tell what you’re listening to.

“Be nice to this one.” She tells you as she stirs in her sugar, and you lift your brows as your lips part in exaggerated surprise.

“I’m always nice.”

“What about Matthew?”

“That was well-deserved.” You shudder, gripping tighter onto your mug in some semblance of comfort. “The things I heard that night cannot be unheard.”

She rolls her eyes at you with a fond sigh. There’s a twinkle of amusement in Aleksander’s eyes when you turn back to face him as he leans his hip against the kitchen countertop.

The vampire that appears from Alina doorway regards the three of you with a smile, which widens with familiarity once she sees Alina. Messy blonde hair, sharp blue eyes, and thick fangs. From her scent you can tell that she’s a turned vampire, which explains the random smattering of hickies and bite marks along Alina’s collarbones and up her neck.

A turned vampire couldn’t turn a human, it’s only natural vampires that have the ability to turn another being. Even then, you’ve heard that they can only create the venom on a full moon, but you’re not sure how true that it. You’ll have to ask Aleksander about that at some point.

The vampire rounds the peninsula, giving you and Aleksander a wide berth as she stands beside Alina. You aren’t sure whether she’s intimidated by being in your living space, or simply Aleksander’s presence.

“Would you like to stay for breakfast?” You offer amicably, though a lot of vampires don’t bother to keep up with human mealtimes. She shakes her head.

“Thanks. But I should be going.” Alina turns to her with a grin, and their lips meet in a rather open mouthed kiss.

Glancing down, you decide to count how many kitchen tiles make up the floor. They’re a smooth grey, with an even darker grey grouting. Something clean and modern. The landlord wouldn’t allow you to change it when you moved in. Alina would probably prefer something with more character, but you liked the simplicity of it.

When the sounds of their kissing have left your ears you glance up again, nose wrinkling slightly. Alina was like your sister, and with your heightened senses you often smelt or heard too much. Her smile is bright as she walks the girl to the door.

When Alina returns to her seat you toss her a package of supplements. She narrows her eyes at you.

“You don’t need to worry so much.”

“I’ll always worry about you, Lina.”

You don’t hate your immortal existence, and you certainly don’t view yourself as a monster, or some damned creature cursed with eternity. Drinking blood doesn’t make you a bad person, you know who you are, and that’s enough for you. But it has been lonely. Your turning had been the lowest point in your life, and you would hate for Alina to go through something like that.

A lot of young humans these days have rather romanticised your existence. You know that Alina sees the reality of your life, she’s isn’t ignorant of it. But, she’s always longed to be more than just another human, which sometimes worries you.

“Is this chocolate cake?” Alina asks, fiddling with the handles of a white plastic bag as she tries to peer inside. Aleksander nods.

“I brought it yesterday. It’s one of my friend Nina’s specialities - chocolate blood orange cake.” Alina raises a brow at his explanation.

“By blood orange, do you mean the actual fruit blood orange, or..” In that moment she managed to open the bag, and the sweet scent of blood and chocolate swirl together as they meet your nose, followed by the sharp tang of orange.

“Or should it be named blood and orange chocolate cake?” You ask with a knowing smile. Alina’s head perks up.

“You mean I can’t eat this?” A pout puckers at her lips as she eyes the rich, gooey chocolate cake. You laugh softly at the disappointment on her face. Aleksander smiles as he remarks,

“You could, though I’m not certain you would enjoy it.”

There’s a soft buzzing over the other side of the apartment, and your head perks up at the sound, as does Aleksander’s. Turning to him, there’s recognition in his eyes, and you realise it’s his phone, tucked away in his coat pocket, draped over your couch.

He moves over to the couch, scooping up his coat and rummaging around the pockets as he searches for his phone. His eyes narrow at the brightness of the screen, then he reads the name of whoever’s calling him.

Aleksander glances over at you.

“Do you mind if I take this?” You shake your head.

“Not at all.”

“I won’t be long.”

He disappears into your bedroom, and you hear him address whoever’s on the other line. Alina turns to you with an ecstatic grin on her face.

“You like him. Like really like him.” You nod, looking down at your mug with a shy smile.

“I do.”

“He seems nice.”

You look up at her with wide eyes, setting your empty mug down as you face her.

“He is. He’s so nice, Lina.”

You say the words as if you can hardly believe it. She smiles knowingly before she gives you a satisfied nod.

“Good. You deserve it.”

Aleksander reappears with a crease between his brows, though his expression softens once he meets your eyes.

“I’m afraid I have to go, milaya.”

“That’s okay.” You assure him. He steps close, his hands settling on each of your knees as you press your cheek against his chest. His lips brush against the top of your head as he speaks,

“Send me a message later today, so that I know you’re alright.”

“I will.” Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, and your fingertips skim nervously over the woven threads as you find the courage to add, “We should do this again sometime. Not the ‘me having a migraine’ thing of course. I meant the seeing you.”

He chuckles at your rambling.

“I’d like to see you again too, milaya.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Preferably without the migraine as well.”

A smile spreads over your lips quickly as warmth blooms in your chest.

“Think about my offer as well.” He murmurs lowly against your hairline, and you nod. The offer for him to claim you, and teach you everything your sire should have. You go rather still under his hold as you admit in a small voice,

“I think I want that.”

He hums softly in acknowledgement, not dismissing you, but not agreeing either.

“Think it over a little more. I want you to be certain.”

He steps away and you nearly whine at the loss. Aleksander must see it in your eyes, because he cups your cheek softly, and brushes over the skin there delicately with his thumb as he presses a parting kiss to your forehead.

He must have put his shoes on whilst he was in your bedroom, because all too quickly he’s tugging his coat on, and you’re opening the front door for him.

Alina trails behind you, dropping down onto the couch as Aleksander nods assuringly at you.

“I’ll see you soon.” You mimic his nod.

“See you soon.”

Once the door is shut you allow the giddiness to fill you and you beam brightly at the closed door. When you turn Alina is there, sweeping you into a hug as you bounce and laugh in pure delight.

You’re so swept up in your happiness that you forget that from the hallway Aleksander can still hear inside your apartment. You don’t realise that he hovers by your door for a moment, listening to your laughter with a smile on his face.

-

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity

BB Character Tag List: @rachlovesactors

[holylulusworld]

Brother's keeper (3)

Summary: She would do anything to protect her brother.

Pairing: Royal!Tony Stark x Princess!Reader

Warnings: mentions of arranged marriage, love-hate relationship, feisty/bratty reader, enemies to lovers, arguments, royal au, dystopian au, banter, sexual tension, betrayal (not Tony), implied smut, misogynism (not Tony)

This series takes place in the Two kings (Arc1) & Not a queen (Arc 2) universe, at the same time. I recommend reading these stories first to understand this universe better.

Brother’s keeper masterlist

Brother’s keeper (2)

“Colibri, where are you going?” Tony watches you get up from the floor. He reaches out for you, sighing as you slap his hand away. “I’m not complaining. I love the view.”

Tony shamelessly roams your naked body with his eyes. He licks his lips, remembering how you pushed him to the ground and took what you wanted from him. 

“Never thought I’d feel you again.” He muses. You hate to hear the cockiness in his voice. It’s not the first time you fell in bed with Tony. Maybe that’s the reason you are at each other’s throats for years.

“This never happened,” you point your shoe at Tony. “My father still believes I’m innocent. He cannot know you ruined his sweet daughter.”

“I remember quite vividly it was you sucking my tongue in your mouth back then. Your hand was in my pants and little Tony was so happy to feel you,” he grins now. “Come back here.”

Tony pats the makeshift bed at his secret lab, hoping you’ll join him for more than a little more sleep. “Tony,” you sigh. “I can’t stay. You know that.”

“We are not living in the dark age. People have sex all the time, you know,” he sits up to watch you redress. “Are you mad at me? Darling, you were all over me.”

“That was a mistake,” you huff. “It was the heat of the moment. The armor, and your lab. It’s been a while since a man talked about more than my pretty face to me. I was a little science-drunk.”

“Science-drunk?” Tony laughs. “Baby, it’s called cock-drunk, or enchanted by Tony Stark. This had nothing to do with science.”

“It was all about science,” you weakly reply. Tony is not wrong. Being close to him, and spending time around him changed your mind a little bit about the cocky prince. “I’ll take my leave now.”

“Y/N don’t be like that! I can go down on you again. My jaw feels much better…”

Tony sighs deeply. He had hoped that you opened up to up. Now it looks like you regret falling into his arms. All he can do is watch you hurriedly leave his lab. 

“One step forward, ten steps back.”

Three days later, the royal library, …

“What are you doing here?” You watch your brother walk inside the library with steady steps. He has a grim expression on his face. “Brother, is it about father? Is he sick?”

“You wanted a way out of this deal and arranged marriage. I found someone willing to marry you on Stark’s behalf,” your brother dares to look proud. “What do you say?”

“So, you want to trade me to someone else now?” You close the book you read and place it on the coffee table next to the armchair you occupy. Your brother frowns as you slowly get up from the armchair. “What am I to you? A piece of meat. A whore you can throw at any man for them to use?”

“I’m doing you a favor here,” he argues. “Father will agree if you say yes. Let’s leave this kingdom immediately. Rumlow is waiting for an answer until tomorrow night.”

“Rumlow,” you storm toward your brother to slap his face. “He and his father are the ones killing second sons. They are the ones standing in the way of change and peace. How can you expect me to even consider marrying that piece of shit!”

“It will strengthen our kingdom! Father is weak. I’m strong, and Rumlow too. We can rule the world together!” Your brother dreamily says. He looks like a maniac, not the brother you protected all your life.

“You’re insane,” you whisper. “I’m afraid you lost your mind, brother.”

“You will not disobey me, sister,” he steps toward you in a threatening way. Your brother sneers as you ball your hands into fists. “You’re weak. What’s between your legs makes you weak.”

“No,” you snarl. “It makes me better than you. And, if you dare to threaten me again, I’ll tell Rumlow that you are a second son.”

He flinches at your words. “You wouldn’t…”

“I will,” you jab your index finger into his chest. “I’ll tell you what you will do now. You’re going to return to our kingdom and be the best son to our father. You’ll make sure all of my belongings will arrive at Stark’s castle within the next week.”

“What are you up to?” He questions. “You hate Stark, and everything he stands for.”

“No. I hate Rumlow, you, and the likes of you,” you bite back. “I’ll wed Tony as soon as possible to make sure he will destroy Rumlow. Maybe your friend is cruel and strong. But Tony is smarter. Together, we will change this world for the better.”

“What if I refuse?” Your brother sounds scared for the first time since childhood. “What will you do?”

“I’ll watch them kill you,” you fight the tears, but your voice still cracks. “I cannot let Rumlow rule this world. If I must bring you down with him, so be it…”

“Colibri,” Tony strolls inside your room, smirking as his eyes land on you. You’re currently sitting cross-legged on the ground, a screwdriver in your hand. “I see you got comfortless,” he looks at the toolbox, books, and blueprints on the ground. “Did you steal one of my devices?”

“I try to find out how it worked back then. It was used for communication, that much I already know. They called it a mobile phone,” you look up at Tony. “If only we could fix this.”

“We’d still need a satellite for communication, Y/N,” he sits next to you on the ground. “Father said you have been obsessed with technology since your brother visited you. What happened?”

You drop your eyes to the phone in your hands. You shake your head, refusing to speak the truth about your brother. “Darling?”

“He wanted to marry me off to Rumlow,” you bitterly admit. “Can you believe him? I agree on marrying your cocky ass to protect him, and he wants to trade me off to that monster.”

“I assume you told your brother that you are mine. Right,” he slings his arm around your shoulders. “Right…”

“We need to find a way to repair the armor. Rumlow and his father are dangerous opponents, and they want to take over the world. If we can reactivate a satellite and the armor…”

“Y/N, the EMP destroyed every single piece of technology,” Tony sighs deeply. “If it means anything to you, I’ll protect you from Rumlow and your brother.”

“Stark, don’t underestimate me,” you grunt, and try to shrug his arm off. “I know you and your father are working on fixing what the EMP destroyed. You’re at the lab day and night. And if you are not at the lab, you and your father sneak out in the middle of the night.”

“I guess the cat's out of the bag,” he whispers in your ear. “This means I gotta kill you now.”

“What?”

He grins when you look at him, bewildered. “I was joking, Colibri. You are going to be my wife in two weeks so, I can tell you the family secret.”

“Spill it!”

“My family is working on fixing the damage the EMP has done to the world for almost fifty years. Father and I are close…so goddamn close to finding a way to use a new energy source…”

[huffle-dork]

Swap Across the CrystalVerse Chapter 25: Epilogue

Read Swapboys | Crystal’s AUs|

Read SITCV | SATCV Masterpost | AO3 Link

Alt and Jackie find themselves in a pitch black space. And yet, somehow, they can still see themselves and each other. Just... nothing else. 

Anti appears behind them. "Okay," he says. "Let's--" 

And then, suddenly, someone else appears. Bro, with Mag still slung over his shoulder. And behind him, another Anti with an eye-patch and green scarf. "Okay," that Anti says. "Let's--" 

And then the two Antis lock eyes. And they stop.

Alt stops as soon as he hears the other voice and puts an arm up to hold Jackie back behind him protectively. 

Bro's eyes meet Alt's and he breaks out into a huge grin. "Y-You're okay!" 

Alt and Jackie look relieved, "Chase!" they say almost at the same time. They all look like they wanna run towards each other- but they glance at the antis warily. 

"... how come you guys got an Anti too?" Bro asks, tilting his head. 

"Bro- this one hasn't even met us!" Jackie says. 

"what??? How does that work??" 

"Heh. You guys think you're the only versions of yourselves out there?" The Anti with Bro grins. "Didn't you see that shit back there? Lots of different worlds that are all pretty similar. I thought I was the only one of me, though." 

The Anti with Jackie and Alt nods. "Same. Maybe it's just the two of us." 

"Maybe." 

The Anti with Bro has a short sleeve shirt, and behind his tightly-wound scarf there are bandages around his neck. The Anti with Alt and Jackie is wearing long sleeves, and his scarf is looser, showing a bare neck beneath it. 

"So." Short-sleeve Anti gestures at his neck. "You... took care if it, then? Jack is safe?" 

Long-sleeve Anti nods. "From them, at least. We're having some trouble with IRIS. Did those guys fuck with you?" 

"Oh yeah. Give 'em hell." 

"Oh believe me, I will." A pause. "So... how'd you meet these guys, then?"

Alt watches the conversation with a furrowed brow. "...I feel like you are being really causal about this and its kinda freaking me out..." 

Jackie looks like he's gonna have a crisis thinking about other hims that are like him in the moment. 

Bro adjusts Mag on his shoulder and genuinely seems unbothered. He wouldn't be able to comprehend what all this means anyways. 

Bro then looks at long sleeved Anti and grins, "Oh! We got blasted into his universe by some black magic glitchy fuckery and he helped to save our friends from the messed up guys in your universe! Which... I'm guessing are the same considering how you two are talking." 

"I don't understand," Alt says, glitching forward and in between the two Antis. "How... are you guys the same but- you don't know what the other did? Aren't... you from the same world? The same things happen to you and... that's what makes you.. you- right?"

"Well... yeah, I guess when you put it that way," Long-sleeve Anti says. "We have to have shared most experiences." 

"Otherwise we wouldn't be so similar." Short-sleeve Anti nods. "I think I understand. The moment you guys showed up in our universe, it must've split in two--the version where you showed up, and the version where you didn't. That's why he doesn't know you guys. Hey, d'you remember Marvin's museum heist? With that weird ass doorway in the middle of the exhibit?" 

Long-sleeve Anti nods. "What? Something happen there?" 

"Marvin shot his magic at me while in that doorway. That somehow summoned these guys and two of their friends." 

"Ah. That didn't happen with me. I glitched out of the way just before. So that's the point of divergence." 

"ooh!" Alt says, eyes sparkling as he understands. "It's... its a timeline split! Okay... okay that makes sense!" He laughs, "I dunno why that's easier for me to wrap my head around..." 

"Would make sense," Short-sleeve Anti muses. "Marvin got really fucking obsessed with other worlds after that. If he never met these guys... none of that would've happened." Sadness flashes across his expression. "Jack would be safe right now..." 

Long-sleeve Anti glitches over to him. "You'll get him back," he says. "I know what we're capable of, and I know you can get him back." Short-sleeve Anti smiles. "...thanks."

Bro and Alt look kinda guilty and look away from the tender Anti moment while Jackie blinks a bit in confusion. 

Alt looks back to the Anti they know with determination, "...my offer still stands you know. If you ever need back up we can be-" He then cuts himself off and it dawns on him that... he can't make that promise anymore. The TRVLR is gone. Frustrated tears perk up in his eyes and he quickly tries to blink them away. "...well... n-nevermind can't... really u-universe hop anymore..."

Short-sleeve Anti raises an eyebrow. "I'm guessing something happened to your TRVLR." 

"Sounds like some IRIS shit," Long-sleeve Anti mutters. 

"Ha! That's exactly what it is. They got it from another world with them, stole it." 

"Nice." Long-sleeve Anti pauses. "You don't... think it's related to the rifts, do you? This TRVLR thing?" 

"I don't think IRIS is capable of doing shit like that. But... they might be linked." Short-sleeve Anti looks at the guys. "Well? What happened?"

Alt curls his hands into fists, magic flickering and sparking around him in anger. "...we were tricked. We thought the TRVLR got broken during a trip we took to that medieval world I told you about which is... such a long story. But- we thought it would be okay to take Jackie to go meet his superhero self! But then... it kept breaking- taking us to new places instead of taking us home... and we found out it was all a plan to bring the TRVLR to the universe we were in b-before all this rift stuff happened... and he, another Anti... he took Mag's magic and he destroyed the TRVLR and said he was gonna go d-delete other universes and... we couldn't stop him. The TRVLR tried to warn us! it said the universe was under quarantine but... I..." He gets angrier as he looks towards the still passed out Mag, "Mag got a hold of me right away and I- I couldn't warn anyone or get away and he... he-" Alt takes a couple shaky breaths to keep from exploding in anger, or bursting to tears. He honestly feels on the brink of both. "He got it and... We got sucked into the rifts and separated in the places you both found us. I... I dunno where he is now... who knows how many things he might have destroyed..." His shoulders shake and his voice breaks as he whispers out, "A-and it's all my fault...!" 

"Hey! Alt d-don't say that," Bro says gently. "None of us could have prepared for this..."

The Antis stare, eyes getting wide as Alt tells his story. Then they look at each other. 

"Must've been one of the places with a connection, right?" Long-sleeve Anti says. 

"Yeah." Short-sleeve Anti nods. "Couldn't have been the place with the facility, I don't think the Anti there cares for deleting worlds. Same with that place with the time loop city. So... the other one." 

"Yeah." Long-sleeve Anti nods. "That must be why They sent out a call. Because that Anti escaped. He can't do that much, though, can he?" 

"...connection... call... what are you guys talking about?" Jackie tries to ask.

"Some universes have connections to other worlds," Long-sleeve Anti says. 

"It's hard to grasp, I know, just... accept it and it'll be easier," Short-sleeve Anti adds. 

"Oh.. okay," Jackie replies meekly. 

Short-sleeve Anti frowns. Then he turns to Alt. "Your brother's right," he says in a quiet voice. "Nobody could have prepared for that. It's not your fault, okay? He was already working on a way out. He would have found it eventually, even if you didn't show up. It's not your fault. Okay? For some reason, people love to blame themselves for things that others have done. Not sure why. All it does is let the actual perpetrators escape blame-free, because they don't usually feel the guilt that decent people do. You gonna let this guy get away blame-free while you take it all?" He shakes his head. "It's not your fault. Anyone else in your situation would've been tricked, I'm sure. Even me. Or, uh, us." He gestures at himself and the other Anti.

Alt is quiet and is fighting back tears. 

Bro sees how this is affecting Alt and he throws Mag to the... well what they're standing on- hard to tell with all this black. And then hurries over to come and hug him. 

Alt seems resistant at first but eventually leans in, sniffling. He laughs half-heartedly at Anti's point and shakes his head. "... no...you're right I just... feel responsible..." 

Bro shakes his head rests his on top of Alt's. "You're responsible for your actions only, Alt. No one else's." 

Alt snorts and rolls his eyes. "Okay, Dr. J." 

"He has very good points! That's why he gets paid to say this stuff!" Bro laughs as he nudges Alt. Then, he takes in all the blood on him and gasp. "Holy shit Alt-!" 

From the combination of being tossed to the floor like wet garbage and the sound of the siblings bickering, Mag's eyes finally blearily open. He pushes himself up and has a nice purple bruise forming next to his eye on his left side. He notices the fact they're in complete darkness and there's two Antis and blinks super slowly, trying to process. "...the fucking hell is happening...?" He mutters dazedly.

The moment Magnificent is awake, the two Antis snap their attention to him. "So... who the hell is this guy?" Long-sleeve Anti asks. "A Marvin?" 

"Yeah, as bad as ours," Short-sleeve Anti growls. "I put him on the list." 

"Oh." Whatever that means, it apparently immediately sours Long-sleeve Anti's opinion of Magnificent, and he glares at him. 

"...I dunno what the list is but I'm intrigued... maybe I should have a villains list." Bro muses. 

Alt laughs, "Why bother? We all know Mag is at the top." 

"Not true! ...Overdose is up there too. ...and that King bastard." Chase says with a shudder. 

Short-sleeve Anti glitches over to Mag, crouching by him where he's lying on the black 'ground.' "Here's the deal, Mag," he says. "Right now, you're somewhere that only I--or this other version of me--can navigate. We could very easily leave you here, and you wouldn't be able to do shit about it. So, I suggest you play nice. Otherwise we might decide to just take these three with us when we leave. And keep in mind, your mind tricks don't work on me. Either version."

Magnificent stumbles back as short-sleeved Anti appears in front of him and looks between the two with even wider eyes. "T-There's fucking two of you?!" He gasps and tries to back up. He tries to save face by glaring at the Anti in front of him and glances at the other. But, eventually he sighs and frowns at Anti. "... I suppose that's do-able. I can humor you... until you idiots figure out a way out of this mess, I guess." 

"Man- can't believe Mag is actually scared of you guys," Jackie grins. 

"I am not-!" Magnificent tries to argue.

"Heh." Short-sleeved Anti gives a wicked grin, then glitches back over to the rest. "Well. Clearly, you guys all need to get home. Though I know what you'll say. About that other Anti who's running loose through the multiverse. You'll want to help, won't you? Or... at least you two will." He nods at Bro and Alt. "I'm not as familiar with you, Jackie." 

"I'm starting to realize I might not be the... adventuring type," Jackie says quietly, rubbing at his arm. "B-But I'd like to help where I can...?"

Bro smiles sadly at Jackie and brings him into a side hug, "You've been doing amazing, Jackie..." 

"They can't exactly help if they don't have a way to go to other worlds, though," Long-sleeve Anti points out. 

"Yeah. Which is why we need to ask for Their help. If anyone can figure out something to fix all of this, it's Them."

Alt blinks in confusion and looks between the Antis, "umm... who's them?" 

Even Mag's eyes spark curiously.

"Oh... just the most powerful being in this branch of the multiverse," Long-sleeve Anti says, giving a little chuckle. 

"They sensed when the rifts started opening up and sent out a call for anyone who might be able to help with that," Short-sleeve Anti adds. "I answered. And it seems like I also answered." 

"Sounded urgent," Long-sleeve Anti shrugs. "Especially since They mentioned people were out of place.”

"Hold on a second, They'll probably be coming here any moment," Short-sleeve Anti says.

Jackie notices it first, followed shortly by Alt. The area around them is pitch black, except for a small green dot of light in the distance. It grows bigger, getting closer. Baseball size, then basketball size, then beachball size. It keeps going. The size of a sofa, the size of a room. 

Mag senses it more than sees it as it approaches. When he first entered that world with the horror creatures, he felt Cait Coill's power was an ocean. This is like a million oceans... a million oceans of acid. The closer it gets, the more clear it is that he does not want this power in his body. The size of a house, the size of a building, and the green glow just keeps getting bigger and bigger and bigger until the whole sky above them seems to be glowing green. And then, the green glow rolls. A rim of blue appears, followed by an expanse of black. It is a massive, glowing green eyeball.

Magnificent's jaw drops, shuddering as he feels the power wash over him. 

Alt and Jackie gasp loudly. Alt tries to glitch back but realizes soon enough it's futile. They're becoming the very sky themselves. 

Bro is confused at first, "...why is the sky glowing green." Then, he sees the rim of blue and black and he makes a pog face then points up at the sky, "GIANT SAM??!" 

Alt bursts into awed breathless laughter, "i... I guess so…!" 

"Yeah." The two Antis say in unison, nodding identically. 

"What the fuckkk??" Jackie breathes. 

{I AM SORRY IF I'M FRIGHTENING YOU, BUT I CANNOT CHANGE MY SIZE OUT HERE BEYOND THE WORLDS,} a voice says in all their minds. {I WILL KEEP THIS SHORT. IT IS NOT SAFE TO BE AROUND ME FOR TOO LONG OUT HERE. I KNOW ALL THAT HAS HAPPENED. I'M SORRY THAT IT HAS HAPPENED THIS WAY.}

"..i..it's okay," Alt tries to reply. 

"But, the Antis said you could help us, right?" Bro asks hopefully.

{INDEED,} Sam says. {I CAN OPEN A WAY HOME FOR YOU.} 

"What about their TRVLR?" Short-sleeve Anti asks. 

"And the Anti that's going to fucking 'delete' worlds?" Long-sleeve Anti adds. 

{DO NOT WORRY ABOUT HIM YET,} Sam says. {HE HAS GAINED THE POWER TO JUMP THROUGH WORLDS, BUT DESTROYING THEM WILL TAKE MUCH, *MUCH, MUCH* MORE. AS FOR THE DEVICE... THAT WILL TAKE SOME TIME. IT WOULD BE BEST TO FIND THE PARTS THAT HAVE BEEN SCATTERED, AND EVEN I WILL HAVE DIFFICULTY WITH THAT.}

"I-If you could take us back to the world where we found it- we could just grab another one," Alt says, stepping forward. "There were so many more just lying around! All they need to work is my magic!"

{BUT YOU WOULD LOSE ALL THE WORLDS YOU HAVE BEEN TO BEFORE,} Sam says. {AND ALL THE PEOPLE YOU HAVE MET THERE. UNLESS YOU REMEMBER THE NUMBERS, THE ONLY WAY TO FIND THEM AGAIN WOULD BE THROUGH TRIAL AND ERROR.} 

"Couldn't you just give them a device with all the worlds marked?" Short-sleeve Anti asks. 

{NO. MY POWER IS NOT... PRECISE LIKE THAT. IT IS MUCH MORE BLUNT.}

Alt deflates and sighs, holding his arms, "But then... didn't we already lose them? Our TRVLR was smashed into bits... How can you possibly find every piece and put them back together?" He bites his lips, feeling the pinprick of tears again, "...I don't want to lose our way to them... but.. i...i dunno..."

{IT IS ALWAYS YOUR CHOICE,} Sam says. {I PROMISE YOU, I WILL BE ABLE TO FIND EACH ONE. I SEE EVERYTHING, AFTER ALL. BUT THE PRECISION OF GATHERING AND PUTTING THEM TOGETHER WILL REQUIRE AID. PERHAPS FROM ONE OF THE GLITCHES.} 

The two Antis look at each other. 

{BUT IF YOU WISH FOR SOME OTHER SOLUTION, I WILL BE ABLE TO HELP WITH WHATEVER YOU COME UP WITH.}

Alt is quiet for a second and Bro comes up and puts a hand on his shoulder. Eventually he sighs and looks up at Sam with a sad smile. "...I guess I'm gonna have to trust you guys... but I think I can do that...."

{VERY GOOD,} Sam says. 

"Well?" Long-sleeve Anti asks the other. "You or me? I think I have more free time." 

Short-sleeve Anti shakes his head. "I'm already involved in all this multiverse shit. I... have stuff to do back home, but I think I'm more qualified." 

"Hmm." Long-sleeve Anti purses his lips. "I guess... I've only really talked to that man who glitched into the In-Between and that young boy. You have these guys, they've visited your world and everything. But are you sure? What about your Jack?" 

Short-sleeve Anti hesitates. "I... have people who are helping. And I'm sure I can do both at the same time. Take care of your Jack, okay? I'd... rather that happen." 

"If you're sure," Long-sleeve Anti says quietly. 

{REMEMBER, ALT BRODY,} Sam says. {YOU CANNOT WORRY ABOUT EVERYTHING. YOU CAN ONLY TRUST YOU'RE CAPABLE OF HANDLING IT.}

Alt's eyes widen and he looks back at Sam with shock. "... You... was that... you? In the world where..." He swallows shakily. "...where i was corrupted...? or was that Sam... merely passing along the message?”

{THAT WAS ME,} Sam says, a smile in Their mental voice. {THAT IS THE WORLD I HAIL FROM. JACK IS A GOOD FRIEND OF MINE... AND ANTI IS MY MISTAKE. BUT THAT IS A LONG STORY.} 

"You're from that world??" Bro asks, "How... does that work? How did you go from a tiny thing back there to this... massive fucking thing?!" He spreads out his arms as wide as he can to emphasize his point. 

Alt looks surprised too but does smile hearing about Jack. And shudders thinking about that Anti...

{OH... I CAN BE THIS BIG BACK THERE, TOO,} Sam says. {IN FACT, THIS IS MY NATURAL SIZE. I SHRINK DOWN FOR OTHERS' CONVENIENCE. BUT I CANNOT OUT HERE. IT IS THE TRADEOFF FOR THE POWER I MUST USE TO OPEN A DOOR TO OTHER WORLDS.}

“Whattt???” Bro says, dumbfounded. 

“Do the guys back there know about that?” Jackie asks curiously.

{THEY KNOW I AM UNUSUAL,} Sam says. {THOUGH THEY DO NOT KNOW JUST HOW UNUSUAL. JACK DOES, I AM TELLING HIM EVERYTHING SLOWLY NOW THAT HE CAN HEAR MY VOICE NATURALLY. BEFORE THAT, COMMUNICATION WITH HUMANS WAS DIFFICULT. EVEN NOW, IT IS SLIGHTLY UNSAFE THAT YOU HAVE NOT ACCLIMATED, BUT I FEEL THIS WAS AN URGENT CASE.}

"We should get them home then, shouldn't we?" Short-sleeve Anti asks, nodding towards the four others. 

{SOON, YES. PERHAPS IF THEY HAVE A COUPLE MORE QUESTIONS, BUT KEEP THEM SHORT.}

Alt is quiet for a bit before he looks back up, “…how will you find us again? …none of us can get to here. And now we can’t travel to other universes… unless we use that doorway but… I don’t trust that thing one bit.” He glares at Mag who quickly looks away.

{I CAN OPEN UP A RIFT FOR A SLIGHT MOMENT OF TIME,} Sam says. {I TRUST ANTI TO GO THROUGH AND DELIVER ANY MESSAGES OR ITEMS TO YOU.} 

Short-sleeve Anti nods. "And I can get back to my home from anywhere."

“Damn lucky-“ Jackie giggles. 

Alt nods, “…alright. Then… I guess we’re all… good.” He still looks sad and uneasy about all this, anxiety about that escaped Anti clawing at his gut. 

“Our world is gonna be… safe, right? From that crazy Anti?” Bro asks quietly.

{YOUR WORLD IS FAR FROM HIS,} Sam says. {ON A DIFFERENT BRANCH. IT WILL BE DIFFICULT FOR HIM TO REACH IT. ALMOST IMPOSSIBLE. IT IS A MIRACLE THAT YOU HAVE BEEN ABLE TO REACH THIS BRANCH AND HOP THROUGH AS EASILY HAS YOU HAVE.} 

"If you see that crazy guy, I'll be right behind him," Short-sleeve Anti says. "Gonna fucking kick his ass for trying to reach you guys." 

Long-sleeve Anti raises an eyebrow. "You'd go that far?" 

Short-sleeve Anti pauses. "I guess I would."

“Awww have you grown a soft spot for us Anti~?” Bro taunts playfully. 

Alt smiles wide, laughing along. “…it’s good to know we can count on you, Anti.” 

Magnificent makes a gagging motion and Jackie kicks at him. Mag hisses at him.

Short-sleeve Anti gives a small smile. And at that, so does the other one. "Well... we should head home, shouldn't we?" he says. 

"We should. And you should too." Short-sleeve Anti nods at the four of them. 

{THEY WILL HAVE TO GO FIRST,} Sam says. {AFTER ALL, THEY NEED AN ENTRANCE, WHILE YOU TWO CAN GO BACK AS YOU WISH.}

“I guess… this is goodbye for now, then.” Bro says with a sad smile. 

Alt looks back at Sam, “thanks then… for all your help.” He smiles back at the Antis, “And you two too.” 

Jackie steps up next to his friends and laughs nervously, “Dunno if I’ll be doing another one of these things again anytime soon but… thanks.” 

Mag stays quiet and doesn’t look at anyone, rubbing at the bruise on his face.

The Anti in long sleeves nods. "Nice to meet you all. I can see why this other me got attached." 

The Anti they know rolls his eye. "You guys stay safe. I hope I'll see you all soon--to give you your TRVLR again." He glances at Mag. "And you." He doesn't say anything, just glares threateningly. 

Magnificent still flinches slightly- which have the other swaps giggling. 

Then Anti looks back to the others. "Here's to the future." 

{WHEN YOU ARE READY...} A bit of green lightning snaps down from the Sam high above. A small tear appears in the pitch-black of the Space In-Between, and through it... a familiar sight. Home. {STEP THROUGH. GOOD LUCK, AND GOODBYE.}

The swaps all watch in awe as the lightning strikes and then perk up at the small glimpse of home. Calling to them. 

Bro smiles and offers his hands to the others. “Together?”

Alt rolls his eyes with a chuckle. “Cheesy. But… yeah.” He takes Bro’s hand. 

Jackie grins, squeezing Bro’s hand, “One last hold for the road! Just in case it’s bumpy~” 

“By the gods your sentimentality makes me sick,” Mag grumbles. “Can we move on?” 

“Don’t be bitchy just cuz you’re jealous, Marv.” Jackie says, sticking out his tongue at Mag. 

Magnificent snorts but hides his look of anger. He teleports ahead of the others- just long enough to linger in the other side before he disappears from sight. 

The other swaps all roll their eyes and laugh- then, they step back through the portal, together.

They find themselves in a familiar place when they walk through the rift. The Brody brothers' apartment, right where they left. 

Magnificent is not with the three of them. When he walked through, he appears right where he left as well. In his warehouse.

The boys all look at each other and then collapse into different chairs or places to sit around the living room. They sit together in a long long silence- Their exhaustion palpable in the air. 

Finally, Bro speaks up, looking at Jackie. “…did you mean that back there, Jackie? That you don’t think you can… do these trips anymore?” 

Jackie doesn’t meet their eyes as he shrugs. He laughs uneasily. “Well… guess we do have a break now but… y-yeah… I think I… I need to step out of these.” Frightened tears come into his eyes. “…in the last world… I… I almost died- if Anti hadn’t found me in time… I… I…” he takes a shaky breath and holds his arms. “….all I could think about was Zara and the kids… never knowing what happened to me. I… I dunno if I can do that again…” 

Bro and Alt look at their friend with sadness and understanding. 

Then, the door to apartment opens quietly- before there’s a gasp, then an angry female voice yelling, “Jackie Finnigan Mann!! Where the hell have you been?!”

Jackie’s head snaps back to look at who’s at the door- it’s Zara. She looks a mix between angry and relived. “One day at most my ass! Where-?!” 

She gets cut off as Jackie clambers to get to her and almost knocks her over by hugging her tightly. “I’m sorry Zara! I’m so so sorry, love…” he whispers, voice breaking as he holds her tightly. 

Zara blinks slowly but then quickly hugs him back, “oh… love… you’re trembling…!” She rubs his back and kisses his cheek, “…I’m just glad you’re okay…” She looks to Bro and Alt with confusion, “what… happened?” 

Bro shakes his head, “it’s a long story, z… we can catch you up in a bit. I think we all need… some time.” 

Zara nods and squeezes Jackie before letting go- “here… you all look terrible and exhausted… come over to our house and I’ll make you all dinner okay?” Then she blinks and gasps, “holy fuck Alt! You’re hurt!” 

Alt blinks slowly and looks down, “…oh yeah-“ 

“Okay- first a trip to Ollie, then I’ll make you all dinner.” Zara says sternly. 

Alt laughs hollowly and nods, “okay… guess I can’t argue with that… Ollie has Glitches after all…” 

“Isn’t he not supposed to treat you now that you both are dating?” Bro asks with a smirk. 

Alt blushes and Zara snorts, “I think he’ll make an exception. Or we’ll see the other dooms I don’t care just-! C’mon you lot.” She leads Jackie out and Bro soon staggers up to follow after. He pats Alt on the shoulder and then walks out the door. 

Alt lingers for a second, noticing the empty feeling in his pocket more than ever. But, soon enough he follows after his friends. 

None of them had to do this alone.

[lightweaving]

Can I uhhhhhh have Itachi/Ibiki or Kakashi/Itachi in “We’ll always toe that fine line but never actually, like, cross it, will we?” 🙏

Listen I love kakaita with a passion so obviously it had to be these two ❤️ I just have so many feelings about their senpai/kouhai dynamic and also the fact that they've both suffered so similarly and THEY CAN HEAL EACH OTHER'S EMOTIONAL WOUNDS OK

Wallflower

Length: 1.3k

Summary: Kakashi finds Itachi hiding out in the Uchiha library.

Regency AU, set after a war that's implied to be an analogue to the Napoleonic Wars

Footsteps echoed down the corridor, and Itachi willed whoever it was to walk past the library, to leave him be. But the stars were not in his favour on that day, for the sound paused before it continued, muffled by the carpet that covered the library.

"One would think," a teasing voice sounded, and Itachi felt himself perk up, "that I would be able to locate Lord Uchiha at the ball thrown by the Uchiha Family. And yet, here you sit, far from the festivities. Where I had planned to hide, in fact."

Itachi pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. "Has my absence been noticed so quickly?"

Kakashi chuckled as he entered Itachi's field of vision. He cut a dashing figure as he always did, clothed in a navy blue waistcoat. As Itachi's eyes roved down his figure, a familiar warmth sparked to life within him. "You know it has, my lord. The noble Lord Uchiha, awarded a medal of valour for his daring deeds against Orochimaru? The devastatingly handsome heir to the Naka Dukedom, recently returned from the warfront? The debutantes are casting their eyes all about the ballroom to be the first to spot you. Oh, and your mother is looking for you as well."

Itachi sighed once more, and snapped his book shut. He should return to the ballroom. It was the height of rudeness for him to hide in the library at a party hosted by his own family, and yet…

"It just seems so trivial," he admitted quietly, casting his eyes out the window, watching the steady flow of carriages in and out of the Uchiha Manor grounds. "All the social niceties, pretending I have any interest at all in discussing the weather or the races. To watch them, you would never realise how close to ruination we came. We fought as hard as we did in order to preserve this way of life, and yet, I find myself wholly unable to enjoy it."

Kakashi nodded slowly. "I keep hearing Obito's voice," he admitted. "Nagging at me to ask the wallflowers to dance. I almost did. And then I thought of having my back to all those people."

Not much more needed to be said. Both men well knew the horrors of war. It was not a thing of glory as the poets painted it – it was a thing of fear, of wondering if the man you embraced in the morning would live to see another sunrise. Of praying you would still be able to eat, dress and wash without requiring assistance at the close of each day. Kakashi had been fortunate to have only lost an eye in the conflict. And Itachi? The stars had smiled upon him indeed, for all his scars were invisible ones.

"And so, you sought out this wallflower instead," Itachi said, attempting a moment of levity. That was how it had been between them. Kakashi, bereft at losing Obito, and Itachi, still aching from Shisui's death, had found comfort in each other's company. Taking turns to wallow in despondency, and taking turns to lift the other out of the morass of grief. Just being with each other had soothed the sting of the loss, and he had almost believed himself healed.

Thankfully, his remark worked, and Kakashi snorted. "Of course," he mused. "My Lord Uchiha is hiding because he is too shy to dance! The only way to rectify this would be with a dancing lesson."

Itachi felt his lips quirk upwards. Kakashi always had that effect on him. "If my Lord Hatake would be so kind," he murmured. His heart beat faster at the thought of having Kakashi in his arms once more. They had not touched since they had left the warfront.

Two men sharing a tent and even their bedrolls was not looked askance at when female companionship was lacking, but back in polite society? It was utterly unthinkable. It mattered little that his and Kakashi's touches had been entirely innocent ones – holding each other through nightmares, stroking each other's hair. Any hint of the intimacy they had shared would be enough to court scandal.

Kakashi's hand settled around Itachi's waist, scorching even through the layers of cloth that separated it from his skin. "My Lord, if the purpose of this lesson is to restore my confidence in dancing, should I not be the one to lead?" Itachi remarked, desperately attempting to reduce the tension that had manifested the instant they had touched.

"If it was a normal dancing lesson, then of course," Kakashi replied, eyes twinkling in that way which always lightened Itachi's heart. "But you are a wallflower, and so you must be coaxed. And of course, I am taller than you."

By a scant few centimetres, but it was not as if Itachi was keeping track.

They were entirely silent as they twirled around the room, with only the books to bear witness. And then Kakashi dipped Itachi low before lifting him back up, and both men paused. There was an electricity crackling between them that they were both unwilling to extinguish.

"In Icha Icha," Kakashi said finally, "this would be the moment when the two lovers would kiss."

Itachi could barely suppress his smile. Kakashi had carried that noxious orange book everywhere, even breaking it out during column formations to break the tension before they met the Oto forces in battle.

He lifted a hand to Kakashi's face, tracing its hard planes. Looking into the eye that, like Itachi's, had seen far too much.

"Are we lovers, then?" Itachi whispered.

"We could be."

They could be, if Itachi was willing to forsake his duty as the heir to the Naka Dukedom. They could be, if Kakashi was willing to cry off from his engagement with a wealthy heiress, one that had been arranged while Kakashi was still in the cradle. They could be, if they were willing to be condemned by the ton for their unnatural desires.

But could Itachi truly abdicate, casting all responsibility onto his younger brother's shoulders?

Kakashi must have read the conflict in his expression, for he tilted his head and smiled in that way which forced his eye closed. He had once confided to Itachi that he did it when his eye watered, to prevent a show of weakness. Even as he took a small step back, his hand tightened on Itachi's waist.

"We have always toed that fine line, but it appears that we will never cross it," Kakashi said. Anyone else would have thought he was utterly unruffled. But then, anyone else would not have soothed him through the nightmares he had experienced after Obito had taken a bullet meant for him; would not know that precise set of his shoulders which indicated he was a single step away from the complete annihilation of his dignity.

Itachi felt the breath leave his chest. Something told him that if he allowed Kakashi to walk away now, this would be the end of everything. Of late night conversations over a bottle of whiskey they weren't supposed to have, of verbal spars and practice sword fights which ended in one of them getting pinned beneath the other, sweaty and panting.

Of dances set to a funeral dirge which only they could hear.

"No," Itachi whispered. He swallowed, and forced himself to say it once more with greater emphasis, to ensure Kakashi heard his resolve. "No." He had lost Shisui, and had only survived the loss of the man he loved because Kakashi had been there to patch the hole Shisui had left behind.

If he lost Kakashi too, it would end him.

Seizing Kakashi's face in his hands, Itachi pressed his lips against Kakashi's.

The music crescendoed as their hands and lips explored each other, finally allowing themselves the release they had denied themselves for far too long.

They had given enough of themselves. Perhaps now, it was time to allow themselves to take instead.

[jaegonsmoon]

You ever think that like, if the storms end cash happened in a modern au where they still had dragons. Luke would have gotten away so much easier. Arrax was able to fly through a narrow like canyon in the show and in a modern au thatd be idle for Arrax cause he could get through the spaces between the tall buildings way easier then Vhagar and he could also go lower to the streets probably. I think he'd have a way better shot of getting away and that also opens up the thought of, since he did, what all changes

-5 am anon, again :,)

is it you, my muse<333??!

hi my love! soooo, I actually have a scene in a modern au that I’m writing (It’s called “All The Young Dragons” I posted the prologue already) and there’s a scene like that, which diverges from the show since it’s a modern au, it goes quite different but the fate unfortunately remains the same and we do lose baby Arrax.

Now, bringing up canon scene, I believe Arrax and Luke could’ve escaped if they would have found a cave to hide or if Arrax wouldn’t have attacked Vhagar, they were almost out. Luke was being really smart about the situation, he knew what was about to happen the moment he saw Vhagar was gone. My son was scared af but he still tried to soothe Arrax before they took flight. But Arrax was also scared shitless, he is a baby dragon still. They were both so young *holds in tears* So naturally Arrax reacted the way he did, he was carrying both his and Luke’s fears and anxieties atm. If Arrax hadn’t spit fire to Vhagar, they would’ve had more advantage and they could’ve made it out of the big portion of the storm, hell, they did! but y’know, granny was already blood thirsty by then.

In a modern au, is like being chased by a car in a slippery road in the middle of a storm. Perhaps in a modern world they have better flight system??? (okay hear me out I just made myself laugh after almost crying recalling this scene) but what if they have technological radars in their dragons sosidkd like planes? It would honestly be smart, they track each other for safety purposes, they know if it’s clear to land. Where to, the weather conditions. Obviously all this goes to shit somehow, maybe Aemond being a little psycho blocks Luke’s radar. That makes him all the more guilty in this situation if it goes according to canon.

Oh but! Arrax and Luke escaping, their radar is off. Aemond loses them to a big bad portion of the storm that not even Vhagar can cross and that’s when he starts to /panic/ bc oh no, uh oh. He fucked up. But going back to my cave theory, Arrax and Luke are taking shelter in a cave, and the storm is so bad it takes them two days to come out.

By then a war is almost about to set off.

And then! If we go to a modern au Marvel like, where they’re these magical beings with dragons flying around everywhere, and we have the typical city *New Yorkers in every universe collective tired sigh* and the chase takes place in the middle of a storm in the city, yes, Arrax and Luke have the more advantage. Vhagar is too big, she causes hella damage to the buildings and the roads. But Arrax is small and fast, I think they could fit on the underwater/ground tunnels. The people freaking tf will tell on them but by then Luke can leave Arrax in a safe spot and run like a mf.

So many possibilities, I would like to think they had a better chances bc honestly, Luke was really resourceful, it was not his fault Vhagar was the size she is and that Aemond was playing god. And that his dumbass was speaking to his ancient war dragon in the common tongue the whole time. Not sure it would have helped much, but at least the dragon would’ve understood him better.

[aconflagrationofmyown]

How did you become such a good writer? You have an amazing imagination and such a way with words that really makes me feel like "oh shit, I'm physically in the world of this book experiencing what the characters are." You write like nobody else I have seen in the Elvis fanficdom (I truly mean that) and I am humbled by your talent.

Please tell me a little more about your writing process! I hope to one day write even half as good as you.

(Also I need you to continue the Elvis x Godfather AU fic, kthx. Pretty please? I will even help you with Italian dialogue, lol. I'll do anything for it. Here, take my firstborn. :P )

Oh my darling, this is a downright humbling ask. Between insecurity and imposter syndrome, it’s a wonder I manage to keep enough words from being deleted that I’ve actually got series of fics in progress. 🥶 So truly, I’m astounded and touched by your compliments and I adore chatting writing, so let’s see if some rambling of thoughts will be of any aid to you. 🌹 I just snuck a peak at your current fic (forgive me that I’m not in a season where I am reading much, it’s nothing personal, just business that is currently keeping me from exploring more) and I was immediately sucked in by how gorgeously you describe action? It’s poetic yet not overburdened, the way you write people’s movements and elements moving, makes me envy you that. I often feel my descriptions are quite Spartan most the time, so hearing it mentioned as transporting is always a surprise. I don’t think of it as my strong suite. I’ve no real notion how to write a kiss, for instance. Ha.

So, stories…They come to me usually as intriguing beginnings, with an occasional outpost of a stellar scene or two in the middle, and then the muses sit back and cackle like malicious banshees as I beg them for an ending. So, most of my stories are started in faith, often abandoned halfway through, as no clear ending comes. But so far in this fandom I’ve made the most progress and due to the help of this community of friends, I actually have a plot end for both my works. I know some people think of an end and concoct plots around them, and for some it all seems to come at once. And then there’s me with the beginnings and no road map. Which camp do you consider yourself to be in? 😃

And then there’s the work of plotting and outlining which I wish I was better at, as it appeals to me. But the minute I do it, all creative force dies within me. So it’s all buried in my lil noggin for safe keeping until the time comes to write the chapter. What I do plan out, however, is an emotional arc to a story, and a redemption/devolution plot for each main character. Knowing what growth I want to happen when, and what setbacks occur at what times has given me the strangest freedom of settings to accomplish it in -often none I would have plotted out intentionally. But that way I’m not forcing my relationship to grow in the confines of my plot, but rather my plot is the vehicle for the relationship to form and grow. I adore motifs, and I try to pay attention to how they appear in real life. I believe life is very subtly cyclical and the stories that ring truest to me are likewise.

I have a nasty habit in real life of observing everything like it’s witting material. Long before I started writing, I used to feel rather like a detached observer of other people’s reactions to life. It made me notice types of people, and while you can’t peg folks (much as I find personality tests a rather fun attempt) I do hold fast to the fact that in a story, if someone changes for worse or better, if they react for worse or better, it needs to be in character. It’s amazing how much this little detail can help something feel real. You can have a character fail, but if they fail in a way that doesn’t ring true to what we know of them and their motivations, it’ll feel like unnecessary drama to me. Does that make sense? Likewise with the victories -which victories will mean much or little to them? Does it ring true as being fully what they’ve always worked for? And who are they working for? Their own happiness and success? Or do they find more satisfaction in aiding others to reach the summit? Anyway, watching and identifying types of people and keeping those traits consistent on paper is easier said than done, as I’m learning every day. 😂

Lastly, (I suppose) I’d credit any vocabulary, thematic potency and rich setting to the sheer amount of old books and songs I’ve grown up immersed in. My favorite authors are Stevenson, Dumas and Mitchell. All of them set their stories in the middle of massive, world-changing events, yet their stories remained personal. Culture and necessity shape a person as much as taste and upbringing or anything else, and it’s a delight to try to immerse myself in a world different from my own. Basic goodness and basic evil may always remain, but the shades of grey and the loved ones getting caught in events far more powerful than their own strengths and best intentions yet trying their utmost to do well in the times they have been placed in: those are the stories and themes I adore the most in songs and literature. And they’re starkly abundant in dear Elvis’ near mythic life arc. So, here I am weaving tales about what could have been. 🥹

My messages are always open for a grand ole chat about writing, if you ever wanna pop in. I love you dearly and appreciate you so much. And The Godfather AU?! Oh how it has my heart still! I’ll totally take you up on the dialogue and any other suggestions you have that might ignite the smoldering concept. 😘

[pocket-luv101]

Forget Me Not // Chapter 1

Fandom: Genshin Impact Ship: CynoNari

Summary: After Cyno broke their engagement, Tighnari left Gandharva Ville. He returned years later so Collei could attend school there. Collei could see the unspoken feelings between Cyno and Tighnari and decided to help them get back together. Cyno couldn’t explain to Collei that he left Tighnari to protect him. (Modern AU)

(Ch.1) // Ch.2 // Ch.3 //

“My job won’t start until next week so we have time to settle into our new home. The countryside is different from the city but it’ll be better for your health.” Tighnari told Collei in the backseat and he glanced into the rearview mirror. Her response was a half-hearted nod and she didn’t take her eyes off the stuffed animal on her lap. The toy bunny was a gift from Amber. “You’ll make a lot of new friends here, Collei, I’m certain.”

“If I get stronger, can we move back to Sumeru City?” Collei asked. The answer was more complicated than a short ‘yes or no’. He decided to move their small family to the countryside where Collei could have a more stable life without the noise and traffic of the city. He understood that moving and starting a new life was difficult for a child. She had to leave her friends and the future suddenly became uncertain to her.

“You don’t need to worry about that. Since Grandma lives in the city, we’re able to go back and visit often. You and Amber can still call each other and stay in touch. She’s your best friend and that won’t change as long as both of you put in the effort. I know how hard that can be but you’ll have an easier time. When I was your age, we didn’t have unlimited phone calls.”

Tighnari wanted to reassure Collei that moving to the small rural town was a good change even though he had his own reservations. His concerns were the opposite of hers. The town was his childhood home with many memories he planned to never revisit. He thought time would lessen the ache in his heart but it only festered without closure. He resented that Cyno never told him why he broke their engagement.

The only reason he returned was because he adopted Collei. Her future was more important than his bruised pride and battered heart. “Gandharva Ville is only an hour away from a rural university. It’s not as prestigious as the Akademiya but their research facility is one of the best. They also have a program for late learners. If you’re comfortable, you can take a few classes. My friend works there and she offered to watch over you while I’m working.”

“Do you think I’ll be able to handle a university course? I just entered high school and I’m far behind my classmates.” She asked and he could hear a hint of excitement in her voice. Collei wanted the opportunity to learn but she worried that it would be overwhelming for her. Before Tighnari adopted her, she lived in various orphanages and they barely provided her an education. She struggled to read until he taught her.

“It’s not exactly a university course. Faruzan’s program is a few small lectures that helps students prepare for school and decide a career path. You won’t be graded on anything or have homework.” Tighnari reassured her. She didn’t voice her concern but he could read her expression easily. “You’re a bright girl so you can do anything you put your mind to. There’s no rush to answer me right now. For now, let’s focus on moving into our new home.”

Tighnari locked the flower shop as he left and shook the door a few times to ensure that someone couldn’t easily break inside. Gandharva Ville was a safe town but the flower shop was his responsibility. After he was satisfied, he checked his watch to see how long he needed to wait for Cyno to pick him up. They saw each other every day but Tighnari still found himself excited.

He noticed his reflection in the glass door. Tighnari held a peony against his hair and mused to himself which flower they should have for their wedding. He pictured himself walking down the aisle to Cyno with a bouquet in his hands. He didn’t care whether he had a thousand flowers or a single rose, he was happy that they could share a name.

Tighnari thought of how people would describe love as a rush of excitement and butterflies. He didn’t expect to find that with someone. Beyond that, Cyno’s love felt like a homecoming. A warmth and sense of ease would calm those butterflies and leave only love. Though, their engagement renewed those butterflies.

“Are you trying to sneak up on me, Cyno?” Tighnari said when he heard footsteps behind him. Since he would arrive at the flower shop at the same time each night, he could easily guess the footsteps belonged to Cyno. His grin grew when he turned and saw that he was right. He expected him to greet him with a pun like he usually would but he was oddly silent.

“It’s dangerous for you to stand outside in the dark like this. You should wait inside the shop next time.” Cyno told him but Tighnari could hear that there was something else troubling him. He laid his hand on his cheek and tenderly ran his finger over his lip.

“I can hear people a block away so it’s impossible for someone to sneak up on me. In the unlikely chance someone does try to rob me, I know how to defend myself.” Tighnari reassured him and moved his tall ears to emphasize his words. “Did something happen at work? You look stressed. Even though you can’t tell me the details of your investigation, you can lean on me. We’re going to be married soon.”

“Did you hear back from Professor Naphis about his new research project yet?” He asked. While Tighnari was still working towards his bachelor degree, his professor invited him to help with his latest project. The opportunity would help Tighnari enter his graduate program the next year.

“Professor Naphis emailed me this morning. The bulk of the research will be conducted at the Akademiya since they have more resources. My mother lives in Sumeru City so I don’t need to worry about lodging. The most difficult part would be how much I’ll miss you, Cyno.” Tighnari confessed. He looked down at the ring gleaming on his finger. “You proposed to me at the perfect time, didn’t you.”

“Tighnari,” He whispered his name. Cyno took his hand from his cheek and leaned down to kiss his lips. He held his hand between them and he squeezed his fingers.

While Tighnari was distracted with the kiss, Cyno slipped the engagement ring from his finger. The ring on his finger had become so familiar to Tighnari and he was pulled out of his daze when its weight disappeared. He broke away from him and looked down at his empty hand. Cyno tucked the ring into his pocket, confusing Tighnari further.

“We should end our engagement.”

Tighnari almost thought he misheard Cyno because his words were so outlandish. Why would he kiss him and then end their relationship? However, Cyno’s expression remained stiff as if he was staring at a stranger. A beat of silence passed. A strained laugh forced its way out of Tighnari. “This is worse than your usual jokes. Give me back my ring, Cyno.”

“I’m sorry, Tighnari, but we have to break up.” His voice never wavered as he spoke. “We looked into the accounting of Professor Naphis’s research and there are inconsistencies. Taj assigned me to investigate your professor and his research. Our relationship would be a conflict of interest. I know this opportunity is important to you so I won’t dissuade you from going to the Akademiya. The details of the investigation are confidential but it shouldn’t affect you, Tighnari.”

“You’re lying.” He couldn’t say whether he believed his own words or if he was simply in denial. Tighnari looked into his red eyes that brought him comfort before. Now, they were cold. He felt as if the ground disappeared beneath him and he gripped Cyno’s shirt. “If this is because you suspect Professor Naphis to be corrupt, you would tell me it’s dangerous to work with him. Why are you really breaking up with me? We’ve been together for years and I deserve the truth!”

Tighnari’s mind raced with the possible reasons he would want to break up with him? He thought they were happy together and he couldn’t picture Cyno cheating on him. His questions were only met with silence and his confusion turned into frustration. “You know that I would never abuse grant money. I would report my professor as soon as I learned he was doing that. He is an honourable man and so am I. Don’t you trust me?”

“Before we met, Taj asked me to investigate you. I told him that you weren’t a corrupt scholar in my first report to him.” The implication behind his words caused Tighnari to let him go as if he burned his skin. Cyno first spoke with him for his job? How long did his investigation last? Did he still suspect him of corruption? When Tighnari tried to ask him, his breath struggled against the lump in his throat.

Cyno brushed his bangs from his eyes but Tighnari barely felt his fingers. He was still trying to make sense of the situation. Only minutes ago, he was excitedly planning their wedding. Now, he had to question Cyno’s feelings for him. “I’m sorry, Tighnari. I’ll take you home. It’s dangerous to walk alone at night.”

“Don’t.” Tighnari slapped his hand away from him. He almost wished that Cyno would act more coldly rather than confusing him by offering to walk him home. He laughed bitterly. “Whenever people ask me why I would date someone so cold, I told them that you’re different. I guess I was wrong.”

He hated that there were tears in his eyes. He hardened his heart and threw Cyno’s words back at him. “You don’t have to worry about our little relationship interfering with your job. I know this opportunity is important to you so I won’t dissuade you from investigating my professor. It’s far more important to you than our relationship. We should both focus on our careers. Goodbye, Cyno.”

Tighnari turned away from him before his resolve could shatter and cry in front of Cyno. His eyes were blurry from his tears and he tried to wipe them away. What broke his heart further was that Cyno didn’t try to follow him.

“Tighnari, you’re spacing out.” Collie said and waved her hand in front of him.

“Sorry, I was lost in thought. The restaurant we ate at was a large flower shop before. I wonder how expensive it was to convert the space.” Tighnari sat on a bench with Collei. Since they moved into their new home that afternoon, they didn’t have the chance to buy groceries and cook a meal. They decided to eat at a restaurant and then walk down the boulevard lined with shops.

Grandharva Ville had changed from when he attended the university, far more than he expected. He thought he would be grateful that the flower shop was gone and he wouldn’t be reminded of his dates with Cyno. A familiar loneliness made his heart tighten painfully in his chest. The first week he moved to Sumeru City, he wondered what would happen if he returned and confronted Cyno. He could never know the answer now that so much had changed. He had changed.

The stunning view of the river in front him hadn’t changed though.

While the city had a few parks and gardens, they didn’t compare to the gems that he knew in Gandharva Ville. He could spend hours studying the lotuses in the water or listening to the whistle of grass blades. Tighnari decided to become a botanist so he could preserve nature like the river before him. The park had countless memories connected to it and people should be able to visit them years in the future instead of being paved over by construction.

He wondered if Cyno sat at the bench and reminisced on their breakup. He almost laughed at his own thoughts. Why would Cyno do so when he was the one to end their relationship? Tighnari was grateful that he didn’t meet anyone he knew from high school during at the restaurant. They would easily recognize him with his rare ears and tail. He was far too tired by the move to deal with their questions and the conversation would inevitably lead to Cyno.

Tighnari noticed a little girl stand dangerously close to the water. She collected the lilies that grew on the riverbed. He scanned the park for her parents but she appeared to be alone. Why would anyone allow such a young child to wander alone in the park? Worried that she could be lost, he stood to help her find her parents. “Collei, wait here. I need to find some irresponsible parents and yell at them for leaving their child alone. I’ll be right back.”

The girl reached towards the lily and fell into the water. Tighnari dashed forward to rescue her. She flailed in the lake and he jumped inside before the current could carry her away. The water was colder and deeper than he expected but the sensation almost made him lose his balance. He struggled to lift her out of the water with how she splashed water at him in her panic.

He was thoroughly soaked by the time he managed to bring her back to shore. She clung to his shoulder and shivered from the cold. His clothes were wet so he didn’t have anything to keep her warm. Tighnari lightly patted her back to calm her. “It’s okay. Are your parents nearby?”

“Put that girl down!” Someone behind him yelled. A hand took his arm and turned him around. He started to explain to the person that he had saved the girl. Those words were lost after he saw the person’s red eyes. Tighnari’s surprise was reflected in the man’s expression. Time stopped and he was forced back to the night his heart was broken.

Cyno stood in front of him.

Tighnari swallowed the lump in his throat but that only caused a heavy weight to settle in his stomach. He didn’t expect to meet Cyno so soon after returning to the town. All of the angry rants he imagined he would say to him became mute. He didn’t understand the stab of longing and loneliness he felt when he should resent him.

“Cyno, I wanted a lotus for my collection. I couldn’t reach it but this man helped me.” The little girl opened her palm and showed him the leaf in her hand. She frowned in disappointment because he thought she had grabbed the flower in the chaos.

“She fell inside when trying to get a flower.” Tighnari explained. He looked between the young girl and Cyno and counted the similarities they shared. They both had silver hair and her brows furrowed the same way as Cyno’s whenever he was deep in thought. Was the girl his daughter? The question made him colder than when he jumped into the water.

“Nahida, I thought I told you to wait on the park bench while I was buying hotdogs for us. You’re going to give me a heart attack one day.” Cyno took off his long coat and he draped it around both Tighnari and Nahida. “Thank you for saving her, Tighnari. I didn’t know that you were coming back to Gandharva Ville. Are you visiting?”

Hearing Cyno say his name again made his heart jump. That brief moment of excitement was dampened by how Cyno spoke to him as if they were distant acquaintances. Tighnari retorted in a sarcastic tone. “I wasn’t aware that I had an obligation to tell you anything. We’re not together anymore. Next time, don’t leave your daughter unattended. It’s dangerous. What if I wasn’t here and something happened to her? You could’ve taken her to wait in line.”

Tighnari handed Nahida back to Cyno and quickly removed his jacket. He couldn’t look at his red eyes so he blindly thrust his jacket towards him. He didn’t wait for Cyno to grab the jacket before he let it go and walked away.

“Nahida, you shouldn’t be in my office. My books are too scary for a little kid like you.” Cyno said when he found her in his office. She sat at his desk. He locked his files in a safe but he worried she would accidentally she wouldn’t accidentally read about his investigation. He struggled between raising Nahida and his work. Initially, Cyno was assigned to watch over Nahida while they investigated her mother’s disappearance. A year had passed since then and it was unlikely that she was still alive.

“I recognize the man who rescued me today!” Nahida said proudly and held up a photograph. The moment he saw the picture, memories and emotions flooded back to Cyno. He was able to vividly recall the day he took the photo of himself and Tighnari. They were in a greenhouse and Tighnari was complaining about the heat. Even covered in dirt, he was beautiful and he took a picture of him. Cyno couldn’t bring himself to throw away the photo even after their break up.

His appearance changed during their time apart. Tighnari had cut his long hair to be shoulder length and it framed his mature face more. However, his sharp eyes were still the same. Cyno believed he wouldn’t see him after he moved to Sumeru City. He didn’t have a reason to return to their small town, after all. He thought it was best that way.

“Kaveh told me that you have a fiancé. Is he Tighnari?” Her question pulled Cyno out of his thoughts. Nahida was too young to recognize the way he grimaced and turned away from her. She continued: “When I was looking for a pencil, I found his picture. You don’t have many pictures hanging on your wall so this one must be important if you keep it on your desk. I didn’t piece together who it was until now. Will he live with us now?”

“I shouldn’t have let that gossip babysit you.” Cyno sighed and placed the photo back into his drawer. “Tighnari and I broke up years ago.”

“Why?” She innocently tilted her head. The first week she moved into Cyno’s home, she thought he was a cold person. Then, she found the photo of him smiling softly next to Tighnari. He looked genuinely happy and relaxed.

“It’s a complicated adult issue.” She wasn’t satisfied by his curt answer and pouted at him. Cyno knelt in front of her so they were eye levelled. It was difficult to fully explain the situation to her but he tried to make her understand. “We had to break up. When you love someone, you’ll do anything to protect them. Even if being apart is the answer.”

Each night he stayed awake thinking of Tighnari, Cyno would repeat those words to him. It was selfish to think of himself over Tighnari’s safety. Nahida echoed the protest his heart would make. “Wouldn’t the best thing to do is stay close so you can protect him?”

“Maybe that would be an option if we were fighting a dragon.” Cyno stood and lightly nudged Nahida towards the door. “It’s time to get ready for school. I’ll make pancakes while you brush your teeth. If Shakespear cooked breakfast for us, it’d be a Hamlet.”

Nahida could be oblivious to social cues at times but she lived with Cyno enough to know when he wanted to end a conversation with a joke. She nodded and walked out into the hall. She was still a little curious about Tighnari and the photo Cyno kept in his desk. After he took her in and raised her, she wanted to repay his kindness.

She decided that the next time she saw Tighnari, she would help them get back together so Cyno could smile again.

[claudiajcregg]

S5 Pregnancy AU - I’d love to hear about!

Welp, this is embarrassing – mostly because this has been sitting in my inbox for almost two weeks, and I kept saying “I need to write something up!” and then… I didn't. (Or rather, I did, then I forgot to post it.) Sorry for the wait, Lil! Thank you for asking <3 (I'll divide this up because I keep writing about the process and how it came to be, instead of any actual, interesting facts.)

I have talked about this one in the past though I don't have a tag for it. The gist is what it says… (Early) S5 but CJ is pregnant. I had this idea over a year ago when I hit mid/late S4 in my rewatch. I thought it'd be interesting to explore some of her disappointment at that time if you added an unexpected pregnancy to it, even if I had the idea before even getting there, lol. Think, the ending-ish of Han, or parts of Disaster Relief. (Both of which do feature! I surprisingly focus a lot on Disaster Relief.)

The thing with S5 is that the timeline is so weird, and I feel I've also created one that isn't entirely realistic but I think it works within the story. (IIRC, the season starts in “May” but also July, then the Shutdown is in November, lmao. A few of the episodes are sneaky two-parters that flow into each other… See 5-6, 7-8.) I've finally gotten out of the no-man's-land I wrote myself into and the next chapter or two, knowing myself, will deal with 7-8! There are a couple of scenes that should be fun to write! (There are so many details I want to mention that are technically spoilers for early twists…)

Every time I had the urge to write it, I'd edit whatever outline I was working in, and though I kept some details… my muse decided to make a big change early on that completely changed the fic's direction. That, and my inability to write anything succinctly. No reason why this story will cross the 100k barrier in a couple of chapters, tops. (It's sitting at 85k across 12 chapters. I think it'll be less than 20 chapters total. Hopefully.)

This might be too long to share snippets, but I've shared some either on the server or here, a couple of months ago.

For more irrelevant details on the “process”…

As I hinted at, I wrote an outline or two around this time last year, because I couldn't stop thinking about it. When I say outlines, it's a general path for the story to follow – ideas, suggestions of dialogue and/or scenes I write to myself; all focused around some sort of chapter structure. I find it much easier to write if I write down where a chapter might go, even if it's just a few lines saying “This happens → then this → finally this;” otherwise, it takes me months. Some would say that I should post it and get encouragement that way but… I hate being dependent on something I can control even less than my muse? That's not for me, thank you. Mad respect for those who work like that.

It was meant to be short – 1-2 “long” chapters per trimester, more if needed, but then interludes in between trimesters. It's not that. Most chapters currently cover 1-2 weeks, but there is not really a pattern. I was afraid of having a fic that would take over my life like the WOWO did three years ago… And it has, but I've also taken breaks and not felt too guilty about them. I definitely don't want this one to sit in my drive and have me wondering what to do with it.

(The novel, aka WOWO, aka IM AU (2021): 150k written in a little over five months, even with extended breaks over the summer. Still hits, even with all its crazy decisions, maybe because of them, but it's also been too long, and it will always remind me of someone who kinda hurt me. Attempts to replace those memories by sharing the story with others, trying to gather whether it's worth posting, have failed, lmao. One day! Maybe!)

But yeah. Uuuuuhhhh. As I've said… Twelve chapters in ten months, 85k words… It's still not done. In fact, I've repeatedly said I am unsure of how to end it (beyond the obvious), but I'd estimate it to be under 20 chapters. I'm not posting it anywhere yet because I want to be able to edit it as a whole and try to make it more consistent; to add little details as I come up with them. There's also the fact that I am not skilled enough to write a compelling story that mixes politics and emotion into something remotely engaging. As a result, the story's politics are very surface-level, and probably repetitive at points, but it's also true I've always been more interested and focused on the emotional journey and the relationship(s) at its center. (Which should surprise exactly no one who's ever read one of my stories.)

But, as critical as I might sound of myself here, I am having fun writing this and I'm committed to seeing it through. I just keep having ideas for stories down the line, putting actual show events through a 'but she also has a kid' perspective.

[detectiveichijouji]

Case 5 - The stolen armor

[AO3 version]

After receiving the mysterious calling cards before each heist, Ken and the 02 Team wondered why those gems were targeted. Arsenemon could pick anything else, but he managed to only focus on those mysterious Digital World’s rocks. Most of them were stored in facilities for study, under the names of some researchers and scientists -- Yamaki, Shibayama, Daimon, Noguchi, Norstein, Amano, Mogami, Mochizuki, Wato, Higashimitarai, Amanokawa, Suedou, and so on.

Such gems were pieces. But they didn’t know that… yet!! There were also claims that those ‘treasures’ were stolen from the Digital World by those humans first. Those claims sounded odd though…

“WAIT THERE, ARSENEMON!” Daisuke screamed, running after the elusive and glamorous phantom thief.

… But the most frustrating part was that even with the Chosen Children’s help, they couldn’t catch Arsenemon.

“Au revoir~ Merci~”

And they still didn’t know how that digimon looked at all! It frustrated Daisuke so badly that the group was starting to think the idea of them helping the police to prevent the heists was a bad decision.

“Goddamnit!!” Daisuke growled, and sat on the seat from the karaoke booth. Everyone was whispering so he couldn’t hear them.

“We should do something,” Miyako said, “A grumpy Daisuke does not sound good.”

“What can we do, dagya?” Armadimon asked the others.

“What if Hikari-chan asked him for a date?” V-mon suggested.

“Do you think it would work?” Hikari looked at Daisuke picking a song to play as background music.

“That’s not a good idea” Miyako rejected it, “Because we know him very well, if Hikari-chan asks him out he might pass out or act awkwardly. It will be the worst first date for both of them!”

It’s not like Hikari would do that out of pity though…

“He likes ramen, so we could go out and eat ramen,” Patamon suggested instead.

“But can it work?” Takeru frowned.

“.............................. ARGH, ENOUGH!” they heard Daisuke screaming on the microphone.

“??????????!”

“I know I know, I’m not athletic enough! I can’t run at the speed of light, I can’t even beat Ken at a soccer match! I need to get in shape! So I will go and train and train until I become faster, stronger and--”

Ken took the mic from his hands, “You don’t need to overdo it. We’re a team, and each of us has a special ability. So, don’t be so harsh with yourself.”

“... You’re right! I’m too obsessed with that sneaky thief! I’m forgetting my own dream, that is to open my own ramen shop!”

“I guess Ken-kun knows how to make him feel better,” Miyako smiled, staring at Ken.

“Everyone… The website got a request” Iori, who was mostly checking their inbox and reading the news, called them out from the corner of the table.

“A request!!” Daisuke gasped, “What is it, what is it!?”

“I think he forgot about the ramen part all again,” Wormmon shrugged, and the others just sighed together.

Daisuke then read the message on Iori’s laptop: “ ‘Someone stole my armor, I can’t go out without it. Please, help me Chosen Children -- Ludomon’ ?”

“A digimon request…” V-mon commented.

“Well, the website is for both humans and digimons” Hawkmon clarified, “I thought that was a little… obvious.”

“Ludomon huh…” Takeru mused, “Shall we go see them?”

  “Gah! Someone stole a friend’s gear!” Espimon cried, waving her arms, “They said the equipment was taken away from a Gazimon partnered to a human child!”

“...” Arsenemon glanced at him, with a pout.

“Boss?”

“Where should we go?” and asked seriously.

“Uh umm… Just searching, might be here in one instant…!!”

“... I thought the Chosen Children were nice human beings, was I wrong?” and the phantom thief mused, “Could this mean… There’s bad apples in the orchard?”

“Ah-- I got them!”

“Good, let’s visit them once the night arrives. Ah, first I need to send a little mail for those human kids.”

The group met Ludomon, who explained everything, but the digimon was just embarrassed as a Gabumon who lost their pelt. Their contact was from the window of the little house, with the curtains closed and Ludomon’s head peeking through them.

“A Chosen Child’s digimon did this to me” Ludomon reported, sobbing, “it was a Gazimon.”

“I think there’s a good chunk of Gazimons partnered with humans lately” Miyako frowned, then looked at the group, “How can we discover which one of them is the bully?”

“Hmm…” Daisuke tried to think of a solution, and harder.

“Let’s go back, and check out for details” Ken suggested, “Maybe we can find a way to contact that Gazimon and their human partner if we look for more clues.”

Once they returned, Iori (who had stayed in the human world) called them through the phone -- Another request about a stolen item -- this time a blade from Spadamon. And then another from a Pidmon who had his staff stolen. And another one from a PawnChessmon (Black) who had their weapons stolen as well. All of those mentioned a partnered Gazimon being the perpetrator of those cases.

“Is this a chain of thefts now?” Daisuke pouted, “We still didn’t solve the current case!”

“Hold on, I think we can catch the thief if we lure them into a trap” Takeru gave them all a serious gaze, “We just need a volunteer.”

“Oh choose me, choose me!” V-mon raised his arm.

“What do you plan to do, Takeru-kun?” Miyako and Ken asked him.

“You will see,” he winked, and dragged Daisuke down the street.

“Wait, what!!? W-where are we goin’?? T-Takeru!!”

Ken, Wormmon, Miyako and Hawkmon looked at them leaving. Then they looked at each other. V-mon followed them once he realized he was left behind. 

Hikari and Tailmon weren’t with them at the moment, but Takeru immediately contacted them for a little task. Daisuke was starting to fear whatever was Takeru’s plan.

 

“Takeru… What the heck is this plan!? Why am I the bait!?”

The group gathered again, and now they were just… Looking at what looked to be a Lighdramon-like armor with cold colors and a spear that also had Lighdramon’s motif.

“Pretty cool huh?” Takeru grinned like an idiot. He did it purposely, right!? “Here’s the plan: Daisuke-kun will pretend to be a digimon and be our bait. When that partnered Gazimon appears, we will catch them and ask why they are stealing stuff.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea” Miyako, Hawkmon and Armadimon said together.

“... Where did you get that equipment…?” Iori, on the other hand, was curious about how Hikari and Takeru got something like that in so little time.

“There’s things that are better to not know,” Hikari replied, in a very cryptic way.

“I don’t think it will work…” Ken whispered to himself…

“Now, let’s wait for the thief to take the bait!” Takeru and Hikari pushed the others to a hidden spot.

“W-wait… Am I going to have to stay here… ALL ALONE!?” Daisuke babbled.

“You two are doing it purposely…” Iori sighed. But then, they noticed a certain card flying from a lone balloon and popping in front of Ken, with the paper gently falling in Ken’s hands.

“Oho, we attracted one, dagya!”

“Wait, what…” V-mon looked at Ken, “What does it say?”

“... Arsenemon is going to steal a suit of armor from a Chosen Child’s residence.”

“Gah, now there’s two thieves in the wild!?” Patamon gasped.

“Hmm… Something is off here…” Hawkmon mused “Couldn’t it be the same Chosen Child partnered with a Gazimon, could it be?”

“Who’s the target?” Takeru asked. At the moment everyone was too interested in the calling card to witness a Gazimon popping in and starting a fist fight with Daisuke (luckily that armor will protect him, right!?)

“V-mon, Everyon-- Ouch ouch! No you can’t steal this spear-thing! Hey!”

“Kitagawa Kentarou” Ken replied to the question, “If Kitagawa has a Gazimon as partner, this means--”

At this exact moment, Gazimon threw dirt on Daisuke’s face (luckily he was wearing a helmet!) and yanked the spear from his hand, kicked him right in the stomach and left.

“HEY! COME BACK HERE!!”

“-- he could be our perpetrator,” Iori completed Ken's phrase.

“Alright…!” Suddenly, Takeru’s phone rang -- “Ah, just a second everyone,” He took it from his pocket and answered the call, “Hello?”

“WHAT WERE Y’ALL DOIN’ -- THE THIEF-GAZIMON KICKED ME IN THE TUMMY AND STOLE THE FRIGGIN’ SPEAR!!”

Daisuke’s scream was heard by everyone around Takeru. Oh of course, they… They forgot to keep an eye on Daisuke.

“Ah, don’t worry… I put a tracker on the spear just in case this happened,” He was smiling.

“Takeru… You idiot.”

“ • • • 💧” Everyone was… well… speechless.

“Where did you get that tracker…?” Iori asked, politely.

“There’s things you shouldn’t know” the cryptic Hikari voice came back.

“Scary…” Armadimon whispered.

The use of the tracker meant that the 02 Team would find out if Arsenemon’s target was the same person whose partner was stealing stuff from the other digimon. And their answer was…

“The tracker says it’s here!” Miyako reported, “In that building.”

Once they reached the tracker’s area, which ended in front of the door for the apt 407…

“... Kitagawa’s residence” V-mon read the name on the door, “So it’s really the same person?”

“We have yet to check if this is the right Kitagawa person’s home,” Hawkmon replied. Ken rang the doorbell. But then, Tailmon noticed the door was open already.

Oh no…!!

“Well,” Daisuke said, looking around and making sure no one would witness them breaking in, “Ok, everything’s clear,” Then he turned to Ken: “You go, and I stay here.”

“Right, Iori-kun and Hikari-san come with me. Takeru-kun, you stay with Daisuke to give him support. Miyako-san, keep watching the tracker’s signal in case something changes.”

“Right!” Miyako nodded.

Ken’s group entered the apartment, ready to examine the crime scene. The clashes of a battle became imminent, and they found out Gazimon and Kentarou being haunted by the stolen objects -- A haunted Ludomon armor was waltzing through the room, Kentarou trying to hide himself under the dinner’s table while Gazimon was running away from that creature. And the other stolen weapons and equipment dancing in the light of the starry sky coming from the window.

“What’s going on here!?” Armadimon gasped.

“H-him!” Kentarou screamed, “S-stop him!!”

“Hikari, look!” Tailmon pointed at the spear in the middle of countless digimon’s equipment stolen by Gazimon, “They’re our culprit!”

“Promise that you won’t steal anything else from innocent digimon and I will stop.”

A familiar voice was heard, and Ken noticed that the ‘haunted Ludomon’ armor was actually… Arsenemon’s magic trick in action.

“Why should I stop him?” Ken said, showing his poker face.

“W-WON’T YOU HELP US?!” Gazimon cried “BUT AIN’T WE ON THE SAME BOAT AS CHOSEN CHILDREN!?”

“The Chosen Children don’t steal from the others!” Wormmon stared at Gazimon.

“Our role is to protect the digimon, not to cause them harm!” Hikari snapped, “Promise to Arsenemon that you won’t steal anything else anymore! And give those back to their respective owners!”

“H-Hikari’s quite scary today, dagya…” Armadimon blinked.

“WE PROMISE! WE PROMISE!” the kid and Gazimon screamed.

Then the armors and weapons fell on the floor, lifeless. Arsenemon popped on the apartment’s balcony. He was… holding another specific gear with him, from another digimon not related to Ludomon at least.

“Well then,” Arsenemon smiled, looked at the detective trio and their mons and snapped his fingers, disappearing in the moonlight, “merci et à bientôt, Chosen Children~”

Kentarou and Gazimon were still petrified by the sudden attack of the weapons and armors they stole. The 02 group then made them return everything stolen and to promise to each victim and to the six that they wouldn’t do that anymore.

Daisuke’s bad mood had returned though… Because not only Gazimon had managed to hurt him, he was also upset by what Takeru and Hikari had done to him. And Those two were now asking him to forgive them. Ken, Miyako and Iori, also the six digimon partners, were watching those three from a reasonable distance, in silence.

“Daisuke, please forgive them” Miyako finally broke the ice between the two groups, “They meant no harm.”

“... Ok, ok” Daisuke sighed and pouted, “But I don’t want to be part of your plans without you asking me first, ok??”

“Ok… Sorry,” Takeru frowned, “I actually thought you were physically strong enough to deal with a Gazimon…”

“It’s also our fault that we didn’t notice you were in trouble…” Hikari added.

“... Ah, I’m hungry…” Armadimon interrupted them, “Iori, let’s go eat Yamatoya’s ramen…”

“Oh! I want ramen too!” Daisuke grinned, “Takeru will pay for us this time.”

“H-huh??”

“Think about it being your way to compensate him, Takeru-kun,” Ken smirked. Of course Ken was right about that plan not working~ That smirk meant as if he was saying ‘I told you, see?’

Takeru paid that day’s ramen round. And Daisuke forgave him and Hikari. Not because of the ramen, but more that he couldn’t be upset with them any longer.