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enjolrasoftheday · 3 months

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Hello!! Do you know any good Enjolras/Grantaire fics ? Asking for scientific purposes only, naturally

Well, if it's in the name of science...

I do have some recommendation lists in my fic rec tag, and I absolutely still stand by those. But! Here are some more recent fics, in no particular order, that I've enjoyed (and may or may not have speed-read in the last week since receiving this ask, I swear I wasn't ignoring you, I was just conducting important research lol). I’m not going to include the tags/warnings for each fic, so remember to take a look at those on ao3!

Also if anyone else has any recs, feel free to add them in the comment or reblogs!

Happy reading!!

Seek and Destroy by pumpkinspiceprouvaire (27,102 words)

Because Grantaire doesn’t feel that way about him. Grantaire is his friend, and Enjolras will love him from a distance, and that’s the way it’s always been, the way it’s always going to be. Enjolras’ blood freezes in his veins. It’s so obvious. This isn’t Grantaire.

restoring the balance by televisionbodies (14,427 words)

“How long are you stuck here?” He thinks for a moment. “The next train is in about five hours time. And then I’ve got work again, tomorrow.” “No wonder you wanted a coffee,” the bartender murmurs. “Well, then. You’ve got plenty of time to let me show you around.” — It’s 12:36am on a Wednesday and Enjolras, consumed with his work, has missed the last train home.

Les beaux cheveux que voilà by GayAvocado (9,184 words)

One should always have a hair tie around their wrist. If not for their own hair, for others’, or for the multitude of mundane situations that require a hair tie. So of course Grantaire has a hair tie around his wrist tonight. A pink one that might have belonged to Jehan or Azelma or both at some point. The neon colour will look lovely in the middle of Enjolras' golden curls. Or: For some reason, Grantaire finds himself braiding Enjolras’ hair way more often than he thought he ever would. Things change between them.

And Pages To Go by femmebingley (5,441 words)

Grantaire loses his sketchbook. /// “You’ve had it this whole time?” Grantaire couldn’t even find enough indignation to cover his growing terror. “Did you open it?” Enjolras sighed, and that was it. Grantaire’s life was over.

Lost in All of Our Vices by cx_shhhh (11,220 words)

“You will be banished for an indeterminate amount of time and stripped of your godly abilities,” Javert announces, voice booming in the echoing hall, not unlike the thunder he represents. “Until you learn that order is necessary for the gods to stay in power, that the respect of mortals is valuable to us, and until you learn to love them wholeheartedly, you will live like one.” Basically, Enjolras is banished from the heavens, and he learns that a god can, indeed, fall in love.

The Worst First Date by kjack89 (3,443 words)

Enjolras sat down at his desk, fresh mug of coffee in front of him, and took a moment to adjust the ring light behind his cellphone before taking a deep breath and pushing record. “So, um, I hope no one minds but we are taking a break today from our usually scheduled ranting at various governmental institutions because one of my best friends wants me to do a TikTok that’s part of this viral trend.” Or, the one where Enjolras makes a TikTok about his first date with Grantaire.

Green Rushes by loverism (6,043 words)

The mermaid, Enjolras, bites his lip, glaring at Grantaire like he's trying to determine whether he's serious. Grantaire supposes he was probably raised on stories of how evil the cave-witches are, how deceitful; how they mock everything they speak of; how they're driven only by profit; and above all, how striking a bargain with one of them is never, ever worth it. Grantaire can't exactly call those stories inaccurate. or: grantaire is a sea witch chilling in a cave, mixing potions and trying to mind his own business. enjolras has other ideas.

Love is Blind by kjack89 (32,982 words)

Enjolras sat down in front of the camera, and the producer just off-screen gave him a reassuring smile. “Nothing to it,” the producer promised. “Just introduce yourself and tell everyone why you’re here.” Enjolras jerked a nod before looking into the camera. “My name is Enjolras,” he said. “I’m 31 years old, and I’m here because this is the first season that this show has been open to queer contestants.” The producer cleared his throat. “So do you believe Love is Blind?” he prompted. Enjolras gave the camera a smile. “Well,” he said. “That’s what we’re here to find out.”

Love Bites by ShameDumpster (9,557 words)

"What—" Enjolras says, breath hitching at the sight, “What are you doing?” Grantaire immediately freezes, and then pulls back, slightly. Even still, it’s closer than they’ve ever actually been, barely a foot between their faces. "I…need to bite you?" he says, managing to sound both wry and nervous at the same time, "How exactly did you think this worked?" In which Grantaire has recently been turned into a vampire, and Enjolras offers to help him. For the Same-Prompt Fic Challenge 2022

Tell Me Why (Ain’t Nothin but a Heartache by cs_shhhh (3,281 words)

It starts slowly, of course. Grantaire already pays too much attention to Enjolras, so it’s easy to spot the white petals, no matter how hard he tries to hide it. Enjolras seems to grow angrier and angrier when the coughing starts interrupting his speeches, so much that Combeferre has to take over after pushing a glass of water towards him, and he casts the flowers to the ground, glaring at them.

anything you want, boy (i can make it happen) by thewalrus_said (3,545 words)

As he’d been falling asleep, he’d expected to feel devastated, or heartbroken, or something negative after a clearly one-off night with the object of his long-held desires, but instead he just feels...satisfied, almost content. Enjolras clearly finds him at least physically desirable, and he’s apparently in Enjolras’ head at least a little bit, and that turns out to be enough for him. He’s finally had sex with Enjolras, and while it hadn’t been what he’d secretly hoped for, it had still been good, and so the memory doesn’t drag him down like he’d feared it might. So when he answers a knock on his door a week later to find a breathless Enjolras, who immediately pushes his way into Grantaire’s apartment and says, “I think we should have sex again,” he’s more than a little taken aback.

The Arms of the Ocean, so Sweet and so Cold by ShameDumpster (11,867 words)

Sirens attack the crew of the dreaded pirate ship, the Musain. They send out Enjolras to deal with it, as in the past, he’s proven himself to be unaffected by their song. Unfortunately for him, as he’s told Grantaire many times, things can (and do) change. And this change may leave his life, and heart, in the balance.

It Only Takes a Meow-ment by cx_shhhh (7,158 words)

“The prince is finally putting out a challenge for his hand. He has a very loyal cat, you see. Whichever suitor, man or woman, can obtain the ring attached to the bow around its neck will be given the time of day.” Or Enjolras is oblivious, and it impacts everyone around him in the best way possible.

neon loneliness by dyhtps (4,345 words)

He lets his gaze fall around the kitchen. A coffee mug left out on the side, a tea-towel hung over the oven handle, even one of those awful kiss the cook aprons that he figures must belong to Enjolras’ boyfriend. Grantaire blames the concussion for the sudden, awful sinking feeling in his stomach. He decided he hates the mystery boyfriend, maybe he's been an arse to future Grantaire before and it's just his subconscious warning him to get away from the guy as quick as he can. or Grantaire loses his memory, is jealous of Enjolras' mystery boyfriend and finally realises that's actually him.

visiting hours by televisionbodies (5,731 words)

”I guess I’m just surprised you’re still in here at all.” “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Enjolras says smoothly, knowing exactly what Grantaire means. “Two months?” One side of Grantaire’s mouth is turning upwards. “I didn’t think you were capable of sitting still that long.” — 5 times grantaire visits enjolras in prison, and 1 time he doesn’t have to.

#les mis #exr #enjoltaire #les miserables #enjolras #grantaire #fic rec

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genericpuff · 12 days

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Familiarity in the Unknown - The Book Written by Tiny Paws

So there's this story you may or may not be aware of. It's about a rat who, despite being a rat, expresses a deep love for creating and cooking, often through unorthodox means and yet - throughout the unorthodox - compels us to think about the virtue of art and our own place in the world.

I know, completely absurd concept, why would a rat be cooking? It's ridiculous - but absolutely beautiful in its execution and simplicity. Our main character exists within a world that is treacherous, endlessly massive, occupied by strange creatures that could hurt him - even kill him - where good food and joy is hard to come by and living for oneself is against the tenets of his society's herd-mentality - but he is able to persevere and break through the difficulties of this world through his joy for food, for cooking, for the fire and smells, for satisfying his curiosity of the unknown, for expressing himself through the creation of art and, subsequently, for the love of the community and friendship that only grows in response to his sincerity.

Who am I kidding though, you know who I'm talking about, I don't need to keep patronizing you with wordplay and flowery descriptions. I'm obviously talking about The Book Written by Tiny Paws-

The Book Written by Tiny Paws isn't really a comic that I found so much as it found me in my daily scroll through my feed of notifications, featured in a user-submitted post to the /r/webtoons subreddit, discussing their newest update. There are a lot of comics that get promo'd in these communities and for the most part, none of them really ever compel me to read them, usually due to elements outside of the creator's control - they aren't a genre I'm interested in, the art style isn't gripping me, I'm just not in the mood to pick up anything new, etc.

But every now and then, something breaks through my own mentally enclosed barrier and reaches the innermost parts of my brain. And strangely enough, this time around, it was this little guy:

I did not know his name. I did not know what species he was supposed to be. I mean, he looks like a rat at first glance, but he also has little webbed feet like a platypus. I didn't even really pay much attention to what he was saying at first - all I could look at was his sincere little face. And once I snapped out of the cuteness hypnosis and read his dialogue, I suddenly found myself already hooked even before I read a single page. I wasn't sure what to expect, just so long as I could see more of this cute little guy.

By the end of the 9 episodes it had available at the time, not only was I more in love with this tiny creature than I was when I started, but I had the realization that this was going to be one of those rare, magical occasions when a piece of work would grab me and refuse to let go.

The Book Written by Tiny Paws is, to put it simply, a story about a creature known as "Firemaker" trying to find his way back to his herd after being separated from them during a flood so devastating that it drowns the earth beneath its waters. We are shown immediately the nature of this world - barren, bleak, cruel - but Firemaker describes it with the curiosity and wonder of a child experiencing all of it for the first time.

We're also immediately introduced to another core character - a stranger named "Vagabond" who does not seem to belong to a herd.

From its first two pages alone, The Book Written by Tiny Paws exceeds in what many comics struggle to do - it not only introduces us to its main character through his personality alone, but presents us the creator's approach to storytelling and worldbuilding: familiarity in the unknown.

Throughout each episode, alongside Firemaker, Vagabond, and the others who come and go throughout the world, we learn about how this world operates, and how they have been surviving in it. We learn that the flooding is actually a regular enough occurrence that creatures like Firemaker count their ages by how many rains they've survived. We learn that there are other creatures described only by their physical traits, and are left only with our own assumptions based on their word choice and imagination as to what they're referring to. There isn't any sign of human life, but human-like intelligence is present as creatures like Firemaker and Vagabond are able to communicate, count, multiply, use tools, and, as we see above with Firemaker, make logical connections between cause and effect (even if they're initially wrong).

Many of these concepts are familiar to us, if not absolutely mundane and outdated, but through the eyes of Firemaker and Vagabond, we get to see those same concepts re-contextualized in a world that is unlike our own. In this way, The Book Written by Tiny Paws asks us to re-explore the mundane through the eyes of creatures that rely on our privileges for their survival.

And when it's not re-contextualizing, it's introducing us to new concepts entirely that make this story and its world feel wholly unique. One such unique concept is the way in which they count - a system of multiplication through simple geometry.

It should be mentioned, before I get in any further - the creator of this work, Nolinno, proclaims themselves as "more of a physicist than an artist", and while I do believe they're not giving themselves enough credit for the art (which I will get into soon), their passion for physics shows immensely, showcasing not only their love for learning, but their affinity for teaching as well. It takes someone who really knows their stuff to be able to explain it as simply as possible for the layman such as myself to understand - and even then, not everyone who is well-trained in their field of study can necessarily teach it well - and yet Nolinno has done an extraordinary job so far of explaining their story's concepts in ways that are both simple to grasp and rewarding to master. Specifically, they reward the readers' ability to retain information and engage with it through their own conclusions, largely by creating opportunities in the text for that information to become relevant.

One of the earliest examples of this is when Vagabond initially reveals his age to be what first-time readers will assume is the number '11', and from there we can assume that '11 rains' must be significant as Firemaker seems astounded by this.

But then, we immediately find out that Firemaker himself hasn't learned to count that high, prompting Vagabond to teach him how to count higher than 3, which is when we get to learn the actual details of that aforementioned counting system built on multiplication and geometry.

It's through this explanation that we learn that Vagabond isn't 11, but the text doesn't explicitly tell us - it asks us as readers to instead follow along with Vagabond's teachings and come to our own answer.

And so, I'm not going to tell you the answer here either! There's a top comment on this particular episode that's gotten it right (as confirmed by the creator like a very proud elementary school teacher, awww), but consider that more of an answer key if you want to know if you got the correct answer. And if you feel like Vagabond's explanation here is too limited or you want more examples, nothing to fear - Nolinno has given us a study guide!

What I adore about this is that as much as I'm intimidated by mathematical concepts like this, I genuinely appreciate when a creator puts in the effort to establish ground rules like this, and in such a natural, sincere way. It challenges you just enough to compel you to try, but not so much that it's completely alienating or overwhelming.

And thanks to Firemaker's characterization, we don't feel so alone in learning these concepts, either. Firemaker's own inexperience on account of being only "three times three" years old (he's 9!) he makes a perfect surrogate for the audience to learn about the world through him. This isn't an uncommon storytelling trick, but can often come at the expense of the character's own personality - after all, if a character is constantly having to be a surrogate for the audience, it can lead to them becoming more of a blank slate without any voice - but Nolinno has accomplished that balance perfectly through Firemaker's curiosity and vulnerability. Firemaker being 9 years old and still inexperienced doesn't rob him of his own skills - more so, it's clear that he's fulfilled a specific role for his pack, and now that he's been separated from them, he's now having to learn the skills that were likely reserved for other members of his pack.

This also makes him a perfect foil to Vagabond, a creature whose past is still shrouded in mystery but is clearly experienced and can act as the parental figure or "older brother" to Firemaker - but we're always left wondering why Firemaker has left his pack, and whether or not those survival tactics were taught to him through his pack or learned the hard way after leaving. It ultimately leaves us wondering what Vagabond's true motives are, and whether or not he can be trusted as a role model to Firemaker. Fortunately, nothing so far has made me or even Firemaker doubt his capabilities or motives, even earning himself a new name-

-but in a world so unpredictable, who's to say that Vagabond's own motives are entirely pure?

After all, as we soon learn, not all creatures are kind in this world.

Again, in case it needs reminding - Firemaker is nine. Though 9 years old for a rat-platypus creature may not be equivalent to 9 years old for a human, it is still very much communicated to us through the narrative that he is a child and, as such, is going to have his safety threatened in this world the same way a child often would in our own - through the cruel actions of untrustworthy adults.

But, as I mentioned already, Firemaker is never made to be the constant ball and chain of the pair. Though he may just now be learning how to count and multiply higher than 3, he's earned his name through his own particular skills that can be used to not only save himself from starvation, but save others from ambush through the use of smoke signals.

Of course, as much as I can gush about the narrative, I also wouldn't forgive myself if I neglected to mention its art style which, despite being created by one person who claims to not be much of an artist, wonderfully complements its theme and tone. I would go so far as to argue that this is one of those stories that just simply wouldn't work as effectively as it does if it had a full color art style. The contrast of black and white between the environment and its characters, as well as the simplicity of the character designs against the more detailed designs of the architecture and props, makes for a brilliant visual presentation that - like the worldbuilding - expresses itself clearly without overcomplicating anything. Through its art - just like through its writing - it asks us to try and find familiarity in the unknown.

And best of all, when things do get complicated-

-it harshly reminds us how quickly a simple and beautiful thing can turn ugly and cruel.

Even though it was initially Firemaker's cutesy little face that suckered me in, the worldbuilding that Nolinno has expertly crafted through their own knowledge and affinity for teaching others has stolen the show. And that's a quality that I find is quite rare in fantasy works nowadays, but just like the culinary arts of that other rat who's far more well-known, it came from a completely unexpected place.

Nolinno has accomplished what I find a lot of budding fantasy writers struggle with - they have successfully created a world that is full of its own unique qualities, and communicated it clearly to their audience in a way that is both engaging and rewarding. Unlike others who often put the lore before the story - usually by dumping every bit of exposition, conlang definition, map and political chart on their readers before they've had a chance to even read the first page or know the main character's name, often out of fear that all their prep work will have been "wasted" if they don't reveal all of it immediately - Nolinno simply shows us their world and its inhabitants as they are, without the need to justify itself, and invites you to join along at your own pace, with helpful little bits of knowledge communicated through the narrative to help you find your way. It's okay if you're not entirely certain of how this world works, because you're not travelling alone - so too are Firemaker and Knower finding their way.

As someone who was raised on the works of Jeff Smith (BONE) and Bill Watterson (Calvin and Hobbes), and even found their own passion for fantasy writing through both comics and video games like The Legend of Zelda, I have a lot of appreciation for stories like this that can be appreciated by all age demographics, and I've found myself almost disillusioned by the current landscape of conveyer-belt media today that often fails to live up to even a fraction of what we remember existing 20 years ago, existing only to pad a rich executive's bottom line. This has only been further exacerbated by the advent of generative AI that's now threatening the integrity and livelihood of artists both within the industry and outside of it.

Suffice to say, just like the world that Firemaker inhabits in The Book Written by Tiny Paws, our world is very bleak right now. Even still, its characters still find their moments for joy, for rest, and for play, and the comic in and of itself reminds me through its existence that there are still wonderful works being made that are capable of making me feel as curious and excited as I did when I was reading BONE cover-to-cover at the age of 12.

Those moments and those stories feel harder to come by than ever, but I'm happy to say that The Book Written by Tiny Paws is one of them, new memories that I'm happy to have made and am eager to continue to make - familiarity in the unknown.

#please go read it!#the book written by tiny paws #webcomic recommendation #webtoon recommendation

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 4 months

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Silver, Azul: Equal Parts Noble and Naive

... Why's he making a Malleus "r u lost bby ghorl" face while also copying Lilia's chin-in-hand pose/Malleus’s Dorm Uniform pose 🤡 There's another Malleus parallel in the vignettes; Silver comments on the same Philip-Aurora dancing painting (that is shown in Malleus's Groovy) and says that he took up dancing too since he admired the prince. Boy was ready for GloMasq/j Malleus glaring at the happy couple and Silver determined to stand firm against a fearsome foe... ;v;

I don’t know if I should be concerned or not given the Groovy and potential foreshadowing for book 7 😂 since there’s fan theories about how Silver could be the “sword” that slays the dragon… *rubs hands together* but it would be fun if it happened…

Fun fact about this Groovy: it had to be corrected because during the initial drop the devs forgot Silver's eyeshadow www The first time this mistake happened, I believe it was on Platinum Suit Vil's chibi.

A Tale as Old as Time.

There was a magic to two sets of parallel lines, bound together to form a quadrilateral. A great number of things could be contained within it. Upon a storybook's page or a painter's canvas, endless possibilities and mystical beings.

Silver gazed at one now.

A spindly dragon, horned and with massive spines protruding from its back, was poised in a platinum frame. Its belly was a violent shock of violet, its scales black as the night. Leathery wings splayed, gaping maw glowing green, trails of smoke exuding from its nostrils, the fearsome beast was prepared to strike down any warrior foolish enough to approach it.

"This is the Thorn Fairy in her dragon form," Silver murmured, his expression set in seriousness. "I'd always dreamed of seeing it for myself someday."

"How wonderful that your dream has now become a reality," a slick voice crooned. It belonged to Azul, who had sidled up to him like an all-too-eager used car salesman. "Ah, but you seem to be troubled. What ails you?"

“It's just... for the Thorn Fairy to have assumed this form, it means she felt as though she was in danger. Someone may have threatened her or put her in this situation."

“That’s true.” Azul nodded. “As I recall from our Magic History lectures, fae tend to be reclusive creatures with rather tumultuous relations with other races.

“In the days when magic was branded as heresy, fae were particularly ostracized due to their natural affinity for it. Humans far and away wide feared them. It's possible that this painting depicts a struggle of a similar nature."

“A struggle…” The corners of Silver’s mouth turned down. “Yes, humans and fae have historically been at odds with one another. We are fortunate to live during an era of relative peace."

“Quite! My own people—the merfolk—have also had a strained relationship with humans. It was through the union of a mermaid princess and a human prince that we were able to begin efforts to mend that bond. I am most gracious to them! It is because of the mermaid princess that I’m afforded the opportunity to study on land.”

“That’s great, Azul. I’m happy for you.” Silver gave a smile that was as softy and airy as dandelion fluff. “It’s nice that we’re able to meet and share ideas with people from different walks of life. It makes the world a richer place.”

He looked to the painting again, his eyes tracing the curved horns of the dragon and stopping at the sharp tips. His liege, too, had a pair like those.

“… As much as I hate to admit it, it will be a while before fae and humans can reach that level of understanding." Silver folded his arms. "Sebek says the differences are too numerous, but I… I want to believe that we are capable of bringing about that kind of a future.”

His vision, so clear, so pure. It sparkled like the face of a polished mirror.

Azul pushed his glasses up, his hand concealing a smirk.

"Fufufu. Perhaps it is possible to achieve with your endless optimism and empathy, Silver-san. After all, I don't believe I've witnessed you losing your cool even once with Malleus-san, Lilia-san, or Sebek-san. That kindness and patience is your strength, stronger than any sword you could wield."

He pretended to hesitate. "Though... I do wonder what should happen if--no, never mind. Please forget that I said anything."

"What is it? You can tell me," Silver reassured him. Dread surged up from his stomach--but the spike soon settled.

"Well--" Azul made a little show of choosing his words carefully, as though he were thoroughly coming through ingredients lined up on a shelf. "Consider: what happens if the day comes when you are forced to point your sword at your master?"

"At Malleus-sama?! I can't imagine..."

"If, if. This is entirely hypothetical," his peer tutted. "Let us say that Malleus-san were to make a decision--a decision which has dire consequences for you, for all of humankind. Silver-san, would you be able to salvage that precarious peace?"

Surprise lasted for a second before it vanished from the knight. Back was a quiet stoicism, steel sharpening the delicate colors to his gaze. A hand clenching his chest, as if to keep his heart still.

Finally, he spoke.

"I will do what has to be done. I will not back down. If there comes a time when my lord strays from his path and into the darkness, then it is my duty as his retainer to return him to the light."

“And you are not concerned for what awaits you in the aftermath?”

“No,” Silver replied matter-of-factly. The answer was simple. “I will offer my hand.”

“I beg your pardon?! Am I hearing this correctly? You plan to help the person you just opposed back up after you defeat them?”

“That’s the right thing to do. Everyone deserves a chance for their feelings to be heard. If we listen, then we can find a solution together and keep the same misunderstanding from happening again. That’s my hope.”

His wish was like the buoyant notes of a bell. Clear, crisp, resonant. It flitted up, rising above the boys’ heads, at last bursting like a bubble and letting the words rain down on them in thoughtful flecks.

"… I see,” Azul mused. “So that is the type of person you are."

How noble. How naive. It seems that Silver-san is a very bit like the prince from the story he so deeply cherishes. Neither will recoil from foes, no matter how formidable.

The valuable piece of information, he tucked away for a rainy day. With his probing settled, Azul brought his hands together and flashed a winsome grin.

Here was a hero in the making, and he, the sponsor to the champion.

“Your character is commendable!! I look forward to witnessing your many friendship-fueled triumphs.”

#twisted wonderland #twst #Silver #Azul Ashengrotto #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #spoilers #something no one asked for #Silver birthday takeover #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland scenarios

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pinchinschlimbah · 6 months

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On "Coming Out" and Noel Fielding

I mentioned forever ago that I had this post in mind and then never got around to it, but now with the new interview quote I was yelling about recently it feels like a particularly good time to get it out of my brain and onto the page! tl;dr: musings on the concept of "coming out" as it has evolved over time, whether it's something that should continue to be necessary or expected of queer people, and why Noel is particularly inspirational to me in that regard since this is, after all, my brainrot blog. This may be extremely long and a bit disjointed but I hope some of y'all will enjoy it!

So a while ago myself and several friends were discussing the concept of coming out. All of us are some flavor of queer both in gender and orientation, but each is in a different place along their self discovery and identity journey, with some being long since out and proud, and others just starting to dip their toes into exploration past the expected cishet.

This discussion actually was prompted by a different discussion about Noel, spurred by comments we'd come across slamming him as being homophobic/transphobic on Bakeoff for making comments suggesting he has romantic or sexual attraction towards Paul, referring to himself with female-centric terms, playing female characters in the skits, and a particular moment where he brings up Old Gregg while talking to KimJoy and says "he was a sea transsexual....quite a demanding role for me" while laughing to indicate that that last part was said in jest. Hey fellas, is it homophobic/transphobic to be a little bit gay and trans? This got us talking about how the current culture of queer identity has evolved to the point where "coming out" feels more like something the public feels they're owed in order for them to view one's expression as valid, rather than its original purpose as something one does for themself in order to live most authentically. I don't think I need to go into detail about how many artists have been harassed by their "fans" into coming out before they were ready because people wouldn't accept the validity of that person's work without knowing exactly how that person identified, there've been plenty of articles and video essays and better written tumblr posts about that, but it's definitely a concerning trend. It can be particularly dangerous when it comes to people who aren't feeling confident or safe enough to come out, who end up being criticized and shunned by the queer community as being somehow problematic for not being able to fully articulate to a group of strangers the ways in which they're experiencing their identity. In this situation, the people who are struggling the most end up with the least support. Forcing people to either declare an identity or get out just leads to more people staying closeted out of fear of doing it "wrong" and never getting the chance to explore the most authentic and joyful versions of themselves, or even worse, feeling the need to out themselves before they're in a safe place to do so and suffering the resulting consequences. Questioning or cautious people deserve space in the community to experiment even if they haven't yet or maybe never will come out! My high school's Gay Straight Alliance was comprised entirely of "straight allies" when I was there. There was not a single "out" person in the school at the time. Nearly all of us in the GSA ended up being some flavor of queer or trans years later after graduation. But whether it was intentional closeting or just feeling an innate affinity towards something we couldn't quite pinpoint at the time, we all knew we belonged there and made that space for ourselves and others like us. Back when "coming out" first became a concept in the public consciousness, it was during a time where cishet identity was not just considered the default, but the only option. By coming out, queer people were giving genuinely revolutionary representation for themselves and others like them by telling the world that, as the old saying goes, we're here, we're queer, get used to it! Nowadays, we're lucky to live in a culture that is much more cognizant of queer identities being a thing, so in many cases coming out has become less about having to explain to those around you the basic concept of queerness existing, and moreso about which specific identity you fall under, and that's where things get messy.

My friends and I shared our own thoughts and experiences. One is currently identifying as "unlabeled" because they haven't found a term that feels correct yet, and therefore hasn't come out because they wouldn't know what to say. One spoke about how when they first came out they were much more insistent on what terms or pronouns people used for them but as time has gone on they've grown to find joy in being inscrutable and letting others wonder what they're perceiving. One expressed that given the state of the world they've been retreating somewhat back into the closet for safety reasons rather than being super outward with their queerness like they used to and is working on learning to embrace those parts of themself again. One said they felt like they'd already been existing as queer and expressing that queerness "before I even had the terms to come out to myself" and is now working on catching up on the conscious end of figuring out what's what. I myself never really had an official "coming out", I just became increasingly visually/socially/vocally queer as I became more and more confident in who I was and what I wanted to be and who I had on some level always been, and decided if people didn't get the hint that's their own problem. I came into consciousness of my queerness during the early 2010s original tumblr MOGAI microlabel boom, where there was a ton of focus on figuring out the hyper specific identity labels that exactly described what you were experiencing. I did a lot of digging and soul searching and experienced a lot of unnecessary stress trying and failing to find my perfect labels and landed on clumsy terms like "full time drag queen" because it was the closest I could get to what I was feeling about my gender, only to be told it was problematic for me to call myself that as an AFAB person because drag "belongs to cis gay men" (don't get me started on that statement, that's a whole other essay lol) It was a real wake up call once I distanced from these aggressively labeled and segmented online spaces and made my way into real world queer communities where I was relieved to find that in fact no one there asks to check your membership card before letting you in, if you feel like you belong there you're welcome no questions asked.

I had other people in these communities referring to me as "queer" and "fag" and "gay" and "queen" before I felt comfortable doing so myself based on online Discourse I'd experienced over who is Allowed to use certain terms, and having these community leaders I respected recognizing those things in me and welcoming me in like that gave me the confidence to really find my own footing in ways that attempting to find my exact correct identity label so that I could officially proclaim it never did. Once I could answer the question of what I was with a shrug and "queer I guess!" things became so much easier. Microlabels can be incredibly helpful and liberating for some, don't get me wrong if it works for you that's great, but let's not pretend that everyone is going to have the same experiences.

So anyway, back to Noel. Noel has never, to my knowledge, ever had any sort of official “coming out” or explicitly referred to himself as queer. So I know there are people out there who will disagree with me considering him to be queer. But so much of what he’s said and done throughout his several decades long career has indicated to me that this is clearly someone of queer experience navigating the world as such, and just as the queers in my local community welcomed me as one of them before I knew to do it myself, I extend that welcome forward.

Let’s take a look at some of the facts. In the public span of his career, Noel has.....(in no particular order, also if anyone wants to add additional instances of note in the reblogs or comments please feel free, this is by no means a fully comprehensive list) -repeatedly called himself "the woman of the Boosh" or Julian's/Howard's "wife" in ways that suggest that's how he actually felt about it rather than it just being a punchline that he was mistaken for female in the show [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] -referred to himself at the GQ "Man of the Year" awards as "never been a man" and "a sort of girl, he/she" -been referred to by Sandi Toksvig as being "on the cusp" in regards to gender, to which he reacts with amusement and acceptance -consistently expressed excitement and appreciation when others refer to him with feminine terms or say he looks like a girl [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] -said "I love being a man-woman, it's much more interesting than being one or the other" and expressed that the loved shooting the Boosh Electro episode for this reason -referred to Vince Noir (a character who he's been pretty open about being based on himself) as "wasn't seemingly one gender or the other" -expressed that he felt most free and happy when presenting femininely [2] -had Julian, one of the people closest to him, express that Noel and Sandi (an out lesbian) may have "real sexual chemistry" because Noel is "all over the shop, he's a different sex" -used the "Confuser" line of "Is it a boy? Is it a girl? I'm not sure I mind" to refer to himself rather than Vince, and express that he's had to work to find new ways to feel as androgynous as he'd like now that he's older -referred to himself as a lesbian [2] -said that he "sometimes looks in the mirror and sees a woman", in the same interview that Julian implies that Noel is in fact a girl -referred to himself as a "girl/boy" -consistently referred to himself with feminine terms on panel shows and bakeoff -made a joke on bakeoff about not being a testosterone-based person -responded positively when asked about the ways Boosh had influenced queer and nonbinary youth -has said he's "quite obsessed with the man/woman mixup thing" -has said if he was an animal he'd want to be a seahorse because the males get pregnant -Had Lee Mack, who Noel used to live with, refer to him as "the little transsexual one, yeah I think she's fantastic" in a Boosh documentary and "a young lady who came out here happy to be herself" in response to Noel's Wuthering Heights drag performance -had his own mother refer to him as "the daughter I always wanted" -described his own appearance as that of a "transsexual witch" and when an interviewer attempted to make fun of him for calling himself "a transgender witch" by showing Noel a drawing the interviewer clearly found repulsive, Noel responded that the interviewer was "holding up a mirror" and called the image his passport photo

And I'm not even going to bother citing sources on the countless times he's made comments suggesting romantic or sexual attraction towards men. Literally just watch any non-character appearance he's ever done, it's kind of his whole thing??? Not to mention his penchant for picking up explicitly queer and gnc character roles, and also just [gestures vaguely to everything Noel and Julian have said about each other suggesting romantic and sexual tension between them and how they used their characters as an excuse to explore those feelings in a less scary way, again that could be a whole other essay on its own but ooh boy] I also think there's something interesting to explore in the idea of Noel repeatedly referring to his appearance as transgender or transsexual rather than identifying himself as such- at what point does the appearance of something become reality?

It all begs the question- is it even a joke anymore if it's that consistent? Either it's not a joke and it's an authentic expression of his real feelings and experiences, or he for some reason really really wants everyone to believe that he's queer when he's not, with this behavior spanning back to a time before the concept of queerbaiting was on anyone's minds and when being publicly queer could mean the end of your career. Which scenario do you think is more likely? And, does someone who’s been conducting themself like this for their entire career really NEED to come out? Honestly, I find this level of simultaneous authenticity and inscrutability aspirational.

In this Velvet Onion interview from 2012, Noel compares his penchant for dresses to both Grayson Perry and Eddie Izzard. This is interesting because those two people represent pretty opposite intentions behind their presentation- Grayson identifies solidly as cis male, and for him the shock value of crossdressing is the point, saying “I signed up for a gender and I want them to be very clearly delineated so I know I’m dressing up in the wrong clothes.” This doesn't seem particularly in line with where Noel is coming from given him famously referring to himself as "the Confuser" and stating in that same Velvet Onion interview that he "never even bothered giving it a label, I never went oh I'm a transvestite, I just went yeah if I fancy wearing a dress I do, never really thought about it really" Eddie on the other hand has famously said "They're not women's clothes. They're my clothes, I bought them." indicating that they were a genuine part of her authentic expression rather than a crossdressing costume, and has subsequently over the years identified more and more solidly as transfemme. I find Eddie's trajectory particularly fascinating because it's been so non-linear. In the 90s when the language for transness was much less public knowledge, she referred to herself consistently as a transvestite- a cishet man who enjoyed dressing as a woman, as well as using terms like "male tomboy" and "male lesbian" and "a full boy plus extra girl". Despite doing most of her standup shows in femme looks, most of her acting jobs were male-presenting, and there was a period of time in the 2010s where she dropped the femme presentation entirely in an attempt to be taken more seriously as the "crossdressing" was seen by many as a gimmick. Swinging back around more recently, Eddie has been explicitly identifying as genderfluid and transfemme, and in recent years has made the decision to "be based in girl mode from now on", and use primarily she/her pronouns. Since this announcement, in her trans advocacy work Eddie has described herself as being "out" as trans since the 1980s despite all of the above. She always knew who she was, it's just she's gotten access to more accurate terms over time to describe what she was experiencing, as well as feeling more safe to do so the more that transness became a known and accepted concept in the public eye.

The interview I mentioned at the very start of this post isn't really a coming out from Noel. And I don't think we'll ever really get one from him. In my opinion Noel has spent the past several decades conducting himself as someone who is in fact already out- it’s pretty clear Noel knows and is proud of who he is regardless of how he chooses to describe that identity. At this point, making some sort of official statement would just be for the benefit of others looking for clarification on their own perception of him and people who want to be able to put him in one box or another, and that’s not what coming out should be. The statement in the new interview is not "I am genderfluid", its "I've always been genderfluid", simply putting an accurate name to what's always been publicly visibly true now that he's got the terms to do so.

#noel fielding #gender files #gender files masterpost #gay yelling #the mighty boosh #shouts into void #a lot of this could also apply to my other wife #but that discussion is way more of a minefield so I'm not touching that for now plus many more people already have

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hyperfixatedonthisnow · 1 year

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Love in the Rain

*not my GIF Summary: Nikolai is your best friend and you’re hopelessly in love with him, too bad he’s engaged to Alina Starkov. But maybe a storm and a love confession could change everything. Requested by: kateswone - Could you do a Nikolai x reader one, where there's a lot of pining and in the rain confession in the end? - This started as a drabble and somehow became 6000 words 🙈 I hope you like it! Word count: 6K ish Warnings: NSFW - 18+ only. Minor Alina Starkov friendship and brief mention of Dominic Vertov, mild angst/pining, fluff, idiots in love, smut, fem!reader, fingering, P in V sex, unprotected sex (not recommended in real life!), suggestion of oral sex. Fun fact, this was my first ever request! I had so much fun writing it, so if anyone would like to request something in the future please do, my inbox is always open and anonymous asks are on too 😊

You had always known you were illegitimate, born to a nobleman and his housekeeper. Though their union may have been scandalous, you believed with all your heart that they had loved each other.

You had few true memories of your mother, who had died when you were very young, but you remembered the happy years you had spent with your father, who had been warm and loving. He had always treated you as his daughter and never made you feel less than. Unfortunately when he died, yet another casualty of the Ravkan war, you had finally found out what it truly meant to be illegitimate. A bastard child could not inherit and your father’s estate had been entailed away to some distant male relation. The new master of the house had not wanted the trouble or expense of raising a child, and your father’s will did not include any incentive for him to do so. So you were promptly dropped off at an orphanage and at 8 years old, you had found yourself completely alone in the world. You had little to call your own except a book of fairy tales that had once belonged to your mother. Some of the pages were frayed around the edges and the cover was battered and worn, but it was your most treasured possession. The stories were all of a similar ilk, cautionary tales with brave princes fighting dragons and ogres, and princesses held hostage or locked away in towers. The heroes always triumphed and the damsel was always saved, and they all lived happily ever after. You would read the stories over and over, dreaming that one day you too would get your happy ending. Adjusting to life in the orphanage had been difficult, you were used to fine food, to goose-down pillows and silk, but now you ate meager rations, wore clothes of peasant rough-spun and slept on a mattress stuffed with hay. You tried your best to acclimate and vowed never to complain, but your high rank of birth made you unpopular, both with the other children and the staff.

They made it clear that they resented your good manners and education. They mocked the way you spoke and how you held yourself, deliberately excluded you from games and always saddled you with the worst of the chores. No matter how hard you tried, you did not fit in. So any time an opportunity presented itself that would allow you time away from the orphanage, you took it. That was how you met Nikolai. You were 12 and him 14, and you were on the Vertov farm for the summer to help with the wheat harvest. It was hard work but the Vertovs were good people and they treated you kindly. They invited you to eat dinner with the family every night and one night, their son Dominic brought along a friend from the palace. With his golden hair and shiny boots, Nikolai looked as if he had walked right off the page of your storybook. He took the seat next to you and when he engaged you in conversation it seemed like he was genuinely interested in what you had to say. You quickly found that he was as charming as he was handsome, a fairytale prince brought to life and you warmed to him immediately. In the weeks that followed that first meeting, Nikolai was at the farm almost as often as you were. He rolled up his sleeves and mucked in with the work, spending long days in the fields alongside you and Dominic. Sometimes the boys would tease you, but it was never mean-spirited in the way that it was at the orphanage and soon the three of you became firm friends, joking and laughing together as you worked. Nikolai in particular was easy to talk to and over time you confided in him about how awful things were at the orphanage and how much you missed your father. In return he had told you a bit about his life at the palace, his complicated relationship with his brother and the rumors of his own parentage. You both knew what it was like to feel that you didn’t belong, and having someone else who understood made you feel less alone. Before long you had developed a crush on the prince, though it wasn’t your fault. He was always looking at you, and smiling in that way that made butterflies take flight in your stomach, always telling jokes and trying to make you laugh. He insisted he sit next to you whenever he stayed for dinner, and he had a way of making you feel like you were the only person in the room that mattered. As September came to an end, so did the harvest and you were to return to the orphanage. You had cried saying your goodbyes, and Nikolai had enveloped you in a hug, squeezing you tight and promising he would see you again soon. Just a few days later, a messenger had arrived to notify you that there was a place for you within the Queen’s household. It didn’t take long for the young prince to seek you out once you arrived at the palace, but when you thanked him for bringing you there he had acted the picture of innocence, declaring he had no idea what you were talking about. His mother chose her own ladies, he insisted, though his mischievous grin suggested otherwise. Although she was surely aware of your illegitimate status, the Queen graciously allowed you to adopt your fathers name at court, and the other ladies accepted you as one of their own without question. You found it was remarkably easy to settle into a happy existence at the palace, especially since Nikolai was a constant presence, always there to help and encourage you. No matter how busy he was, you could always depend on seeing him at least once a day. Sometimes he would seek you out at breakfast, stealing fruit from your plate and winking at you when his mother scolded him, or stop you in the hallway to ask about your day while the other ladies giggled behind you, but his favorite time to visit you was late at night, when everyone else was asleep. He would sneak into your room, face lit by dim candlelight and sit cross-legged on your bed, talking endlessly about anything and everything - palace gossip, an idea he had for an invention, places you both wanted to travel, dreams for the future. Even when he went off with Dominic to complete his military service, and then off to sea, he somehow still found time to write to you several times a week until he returned. Now almost 12 years had passed since he had rescued you from your life at the orphanage and Nikolai was no longer a prince, but he was still your best friend. Which only made the fact that your childhood crush had blossomed into unrequited love that much more difficult to bare. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The state banquet was in full swing and you were seated near one end of the long table. The Kaelish ambassador sat to your right and another man on your left, though you could not recall his title. Both men had been talking almost non-stop for over an hour, each competing for your attention, but you had long since tuned them out. You couldn’t stop your eyes wandering to where you knew the King sat, at the head of the table. He was deep in conversation with Alina Starkov, who held the place of honour by his side, but his eyes met yours briefly and the corner of his mouth tipped up into that boyish smile you loved so much. The Kaelish ambassador laid a hand on top of yours on the table, trying to regain your attention and Nikolai’s smile dropped from his face, a small crease appearing between his brows in its place. You turned away, breaking the eye contact so that you could politely extricate yourself from the ambassador’s grasp. When you looked back, the King had returned to his conversation, the Sun Saint once again holding his full attention. You watched as he leaned in close to whisper in her ear, and she tipped her head back to laugh. You studied her as you sipped your wine. The Sun Saint and the saviour of Ravka. You wanted to hate her, but she couldn’t even allow you that you thought bitterly, because not only was she beautiful, she was also brave and kind. Even her laugh was pretty, a light, musical sound. Despite the fact that she had grown up an orphan like you, she had a way about her that just screamed royalty. She would make a perfect Queen for him. You pushed away your plate of half-eaten dinner, your appetite quite ruined. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Nikolai watched you from the opposite end of the table. Alina was talking and he knew he should be focused on her but in truth he was barely even listening. You looked stunning tonight, even more so than usual, and he was having a hard time taking his eyes off you. Your gaze finally fell on him and he smiled back at you, warmth blooming in his chest at having your full attention even in the crowded room, but then the Kaelish ambassador touched your hand with his and Nikolai’s heart sank. You were a beautiful and intelligent woman and yet you were still unmarried, so it was no surprise that any man seated next to you would be vying for your affections. Nikolai knew he had no right to be upset, given his own engagement to Alina, but truthfully, he was a selfish creature at his core and he did not want to see you with anyone but him. As you turned to the ambassador, Nikolai forced himself to shift his attention back to Alina, he couldn’t stand to watch the other man flirt with you. Alina was giving him a knowing look and he didn’t like it. The last thing he wanted was a lecture on the dangers of unrequited love from the Sun Saint. Humor was his favorite method of deflection, and it had always served him well in the past, so he leaned in close, quietly making a joke about the unfortunate looking man sat opposite them. Alina laughed and the moment passed just as he’d hoped it would. He made a concentrated effort to keep his eyes off of you for the rest of dinner. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - After dinner, the King and his fiancé led the procession, their arms linked together delicately, as everyone moved to the ballroom. You trailed behind, tempted to just duck out altogether and go back to your room where you could be alone. Then the Kaelish ambassador appeared at your side, offering to escort you in and dashing all hopes of escape. You looped your arm through his reluctantly and allowed him to take you into the crowded ballroom. Your eyes swept the room involuntarily, seeking Nikolai out as always. You found him off to the side of the dance floor, talking with Alina again, their arms still linked and their heads bent intimately close together. You ignored the bloom of pain in your chest and forced yourself to look away. You turned to the man at your side instead, plastering a smile on your face. “Are you enjoying your time in Ravka, ambassador?” You asked. “Very much so,” he smiled, “but then, what man would not enjoy your charming company?” You looked away, feeling your cheeks heating up at the compliment. “That’s very kind of you to say, ambassador.” “Please, call me Cillian.” “I’m not sure that would be appropriate,” you demurred. “I insist,” he said, taking your hand. You caught sight of Nikolai in your peripheral vision, he and Alina were moving towards you and panic clawed at your throat. You didn’t have it in you tonight to pretend to be happy for them. “Alright,” you allowed, giving him the coyest smile you could manage, “but only if you will agree to dance with me.” The ambassador - Cillian, looked thrilled and you felt a stab of guilt, but you let him lead you away from Nikolai and out onto the dance floor all the same. The orchestra struck up a new tune, blending seamlessly from the last and Cillian pulled you in, one hand clasped with yours and the other at your waist. You tried to keep your eyes entirely on him, studying his features as you moved together through the steps of the dance. He was several years older than you, you determined, but not old, and he was handsome enough, with dark auburn hair and emerald green eyes. He wasn’t Nikolai, but then, no one could measure up to him in your opinion.

When the dance ended, Cillian disappeared to go and fetch you both a drink. You waited for him at the edge of the crowd, and watched as Nikolai escorted Alina out onto the dance floor. The music started up again, a slow, romantic melody and Nikolai held Alina as close as propriety would allow, one hand pressed to the small of her back. At first the two of them just swayed together in time with the music, completely caught up in each other, and then Nikolai whispered something in her ear and finally started to lead her in the dance. They moved beautifully together, perfectly in sync and suddenly you felt so sick, you couldn’t stand it. You turned on your heel, pushing your way through the crowded ballroom and towards the exit as fast as your feet would carry you. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Nikolai stared steadfastly ahead as he led the guests into the ballroom, Alina on his arm. If he allowed himself to look around, he would only look for you. He stopped walking as he reached the opposite side of the room, deeming it far enough away from the door and other people to be acceptable. “You might as well look for her,” Alina said, leaning in to him, “I know you want to.” “Who?” he asked, playing dumb. “You know who,” she pressed patiently, “you should go find her and tell her how you feel.” “I don’t know what you mean,” he said, his voice coming out entirely too high to be believable. He cleared his throat conspicuously and she gave him that knowing look again. “Oh come on,” she said, rolling her eyes, “a blind person could see that you’re in love with her.” “I’m not -“ he started automatically, but he cut himself off when Alina raised her eyebrows in disbelief. “Okay, I am,” he admitted, “but I can’t tell her that. She’s my best friend.” “All the more reason to tell her,” Alina reasoned, “all the best relationships start out as friendship.” “No,” Nikolai insisted, “she doesn’t see me that way and I can’t risk losing her.” “With great risk comes great reward,” Alina shrugged, “that sounds like something Sturmhond would say, don’t you think?” “Sturmhond isn’t here,” he muttered, but a nagging voice in his head told him she was right. “Look, there she is now,” Alina said, and Nikolai couldn’t help himself. He turned his head, following her line of sight until he spotted you in your pale blue gown, talking with the same man who had held your attention at dinner. You were smiling and your cheeks were flushed as the ambassador took your hand. Before Nikolai had even had a chance to react, Alina was grasping his arm tight and dragging him through the crowd towards you, but by the time they reached you, you were already out on the dance floor. Jealousy coiled sharp and hot in Nikolai’s gut as he watched the other man hold you in his arms, moving you effortlessly across the floor. You stared into his eyes, as if he was the only person you could see and Nikolai’s heart ached. He couldn’t bare to watch and yet he found he couldn’t look away. As soon as the music ended, he pulled Alina onto the dance floor without even asking, determined to distract himself. “I can’t dance,” she hissed, clearly annoyed despite the smile fixed to her face, “I don’t know how!” He laid his hand lightly on the small of her back, helping her sway gently in time with the beat. “Sorry,” he whispered, “just let me lead, you’ll be fine.” He began to lead her through the dance, keeping his frame firm. Luckily the melody was slow and even, so it was not difficult for Alina to follow him, but he looked up just in time to see you fleeing the ballroom and then both their footsteps faltered. He murmured a hasty apology to Alina, abandoning her on the dance floor to pursue you. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You ran aimlessly until you somehow ended up at the palace gardens. You just needed to get away, couldn’t bare to witness the happy couple for another minute. The rain was pouring down in sheets, the stormy weather a perfect mirror to your emotions. You stepped out into the downpour, and instantly regretted it as the rain soaked through your gown with every step you took, but going back inside was not an option. You kept your head down and ran towards the gazebo, seeking shelter there. Water dripped down your face, mixing with your tears as you finally allowed them to fall. The sound of the rain was loud in your ears and you were so caught up in your own misery that you were taken by surprise when he spoke. “Are you ok?” Nikolai asked, “what are you doing out here?” You whirled around, finding him standing behind you under the gazebo, presumably taking shelter from the storm as you had done. He looked just as wet as you felt, his blonde curls dripping onto his forehead and the white of his shirt almost translucent in places where the rain had soaked through completely. You wiped discreetly at your tears, clearing your throat but you didn’t answer him. You didn’t trust yourself to speak. He removed his jacket, offering it up to you. “You’ll catch your death out in this storm without a coat,” he chided. When you made no move to accept it from his outstretched hand, he stepped closer, huffing impatiently and you couldn’t help but laugh. “I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t think that’s going to do much good,” you said, and his face twisted in confusion. He looked down at the sodden garment in his hand, suddenly realizing how wet it actually was. “I suppose not,” he conceded with a chuckle. He moved to the low railing so that he could lay his jacket over it, then he leaned against it, swiping a hand through his wet hair to brush it back from his face. “What are you doing out here?” You questioned. He gave you a wry smile, “I asked you first.” “I needed a moment alone,” you admitted, chewing on your bottom lip. He raised his eyebrows in question. Seeing you with Alina was killing me, you thought. But you couldn’t say that out loud, so instead you said, “The Kaelish ambassador proposed to me.” The lie tripped off your tongue so easily, you almost believed it yourself. Nikolai barked a surprised laugh, “Sounds like he’s had too much kvas,” he snorted, “I hope you let him down gently.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “Actually, I told him I’d think about it,” you said, swallowing down your hurt. Was it really so unbelievable to him that a man could want you? “You can’t be serious?” He exclaimed, all trace of amusement suddenly gone. You shrugged your shoulders noncommittally and silence stretched between you. Nikolai scrubbed a hand over his face in apparent frustration, standing to pace uneasily. “You can’t marry him,” he said finally, his face unreadable. “Why not?” “He isn’t right for you,” he muttered. “You barely know him,” you bristled, feeling your temper begin to rise. What right did he have to decide for you? “Neither do you,” he countered. “Do you even love him?” “What does that matter? Marriage is an economic proposition,” you argued. “He’s handsome and rich, and he treats me kindly. As far as husbands go, I could certainly do much worse.” “As your friend, I am telling you that marrying him would be a mistake,” Nikolai insisted, his voice rising, “you cannot possibly be happy with a man you do not love.” “As my friend,” you spat, “you should support my choice, just as I did yours. Perhaps I do not love him now, but I will be well taken care of, and I may learn to love him in time.” Nikolai shook his head in disbelief. “You don’t believe that. I know you don’t. You’ve always wanted a love match.” “Yes well, we can’t always get what we want,” you said softly, looking away. “Not everyone can be as lucky as you and Alina.” “Alina and I are not a love match,” he frowned, “Surely you know that? Our engagement is purely a political alliance.” “Political, of course,” you huffed sarcastically. “It certainly seems that way when you’re fawning over her at every opportunity. Don’t lie to me Nikolai. You’re clearly in love with her!” “I do not fawn!” He objected angrily, “and I am not in love with Alina! How could I be, when my heart wholly belongs to you?!” You glared at him even as tears filled your eyes. “Now you’re just being cruel. To say such a thing when you know -“ you cut yourself off, your voice breaking. “When I know… what?” he demanded, moving into your personal space. Your fingers itched to reach out and touch him. You curled your hands into fists, fighting the instinct as you tilted your head back to look at him. “When you know that I’ve loved you for so long,” you whispered. You hadn’t meant to admit it, but you were so tired of pretending. “I know no such thing,” he said, his forehead creased into a frown. He lifted his hand to push your damp hair back behind your ear and the touch made you shiver, “I am a man of many talents, it’s true, but mind reading isn’t one of them.” “Don’t be glib,” you muttered, bringing your hands up to his chest, ready to shove him away but he captured your wrists, tugging you against him instead. Your heart was pounding and you were sure he could feel it. He said nothing, just searching your expression for something, and then his face lit up in a bright smile, all of his righteous anger melting away in an instant. “Saints. I’ve spent 10 years dreaming of this moment.” “Don’t,” you warned, your tone sharp, and his frown returned. “Don’t pretend to love me back, that isn’t fair.” “I’m not pretending,” he promised. You eyed him skeptically. “I love you,” he said earnestly, “I have loved you from the very first moment that we met, and in every moment since then. Every time we have been together and every time we were apart. In every look we have shared and every word we have spoken I have felt it, I have known it deep in my soul, and I cannot go another second without you knowing it too.” You stared at him, willing yourself not to cry as you tried to process his admission. You waited for him to take the words back, to laugh and say he was joking, but he didn’t. He closed his eyes briefly, his expression serious. His mouth pressed into a thin line, like he didn’t trust himself not to say more and when he opened his eyes, they were so full of love that you could scarcely believe it. Your heart soared with joy. “I love you too,” you assured him and he dipped his head to kiss you, finally, reverent and sweet. You pressed yourself against him, needing to be closer and his hand cupped your cheek, tilting your head up as you opened your mouth to him. His free hand went to your hair, gently pulling out the pins that held it in place, until it tumbled down around your shoulders. Later, you wouldn’t be sure if it was you or him that had turned the kiss hungry, but the shift felt so natural, like coming home, even as heat spread through you like wildfire, desperate and out of control. When your mouths finally separated, you were both breathless. You panted, trying to catch your breath and he placed a kiss below your ear before he gently sucked and nipped a line down the column of your throat and across your breasts. His clever tongue swirled over your nipple through the fabric of your gown and you gasped, arching in to him. He tugged at your neckline, seeking access to more skin and growled in frustration when it didn’t give way. You threaded your fingers through his hair and pulled him back up so that you could cover his mouth with your own again. He reached around to the back of your gown, nimble fingers making light work of the dozens of tiny buttons tracing your spine. As he reached the final button, you suddenly remembered that you were outside. It was dark, and the storm made it improbable that anyone would happen upon you out here in the gazebo, but improbable was not impossible. “Wait,” you murmured. To his credit, his hands stilled instantly, albeit reluctantly, and he raised his head to regard you. “Not here, someone might see us.” “I don’t care,” he said, his mouth returning to your throat and you struggled to recall why you were objecting. “Nikolai…” you tried again weakly. “I must have you,” he insisted, his voice rough with arousal, “I cannot wait a moment longer.” And really, how were you to argue with that? You dragged your hands down his chest, grabbing the hem of his shirt and he smiled as he lifted his arms, helping you pull it up and off over his head. When he slipped your gown from your shoulders, he sank to his knees along with it, pressing teasing kisses across your abdomen as the fabric pooled at your feet. Your hands grasped his shoulders as he lowered your underwear, baring you to him completely and a sudden wave of shyness over took you. You carded your fingers through his hair, fighting the urge to cover yourself. “Perfect,” he murmured, raising his eyes to meet yours. The desire in his gaze was so intense that it seemed to simmer in the air between you and just like that, your embarrassment dissipated. He tugged gently on your hips, urging you downward and when you joined him on the floor he tipped you backwards so that you were laying on your gown. The damp fabric was soft against your skin, cushioning your body from the unforgiving wood beneath it. Nikolai lay down beside you, propped up on one elbow and ran his free hand across your collarbone and down your side, his fingers skimming the underside of your breast, tracing your ribs and fluttering lightly over your stomach until they reached the apex of your thighs. He circled your clit, slow at first, gentle, and then gradually increased in speed and pressure as your body responded. He slipped his tongue into your mouth at the same time as he slipped a finger inside you and when you shuddered, he added another, curling them just right in a way that had you moaning his name. Your whole body felt tense, every muscle straining for release and he dipped his head to capture the dusky peak of one nipple between his teeth. The extra stimulation was all that you needed to reach your peak, and you clutched to him desperately as the wave of your orgasm crested, your core clenching around his fingers as he coaxed you through it. “Saints, you’re so beautiful when you come,” he confessed, his voice low and gravelly. You wanted to kiss him, but he seemed so far away and you still felt fuzzy, your limbs not quite under your control, so you settled for pressing a kiss to his shoulder instead. Luckily he seemed to understand what you needed, he hovered over you, careful to keep his weight off you as he claimed your mouth again, but you were impatient for more. You nipped at his bottom lip, pulling him down on to you, wanting to feel every inch of his body against yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him ever closer and swallowed his gasp when his clothed arousal made contact with your center. You reached a hand between you and tugged at his laces, eager to rid him of his breeches. He rushed to help, pushing them down so he could kick them off as soon as they were untied. He settled himself between your thighs, his cock dipping between your folds almost of its own accord and you suddenly couldn’t wait to have him inside you. You watched as he lined himself up with your entrance. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Nikolai pressed his forehead to yours, looking down the length of your bodies so he could watch as he entered you for the first time. The sound you made as he pushed inside was almost enough to undo him, and he had to close his eyes, fighting for control of his body. Only once he was certain he would not embarrass himself did he begin to move, burying himself in your heat only to retreat, over and over in a punishing rhythm that forced the air from his lungs and had you writhing beneath him. He groaned as you moved your own hips against him, meeting his thrusts on the downstroke, chasing your own pleasure as much as his. He straightened, raising himself up slightly so he could take you in, wanting to absorb every tiny detail of you beneath him. The way your hair was spread out around you like a halo, the pink blush that spread across your cheeks and down your chest, the perfect cupids bow of your lips, kiss swollen and cherry red. He wanted to commit the moment to memory, never wanted to forget the sight of you, sinful and gorgeous, and utterly wrecked. He lowered his head so he could nip gently at the expanse of skin just above your collarbone. You keened in response, tipping your head back to bare more of your throat to him and he felt a surge of something dark and possessive, an almost overwhelming sensation that made him want to sink his teeth in, to suck a bruise into your skin and mark you as his. But he would never do it without your permission, so settled for slanting his mouth over yours instead. He hitched your legs up higher on his waist, changing the angle slightly and allowing him to slide even deeper. You cried out as he finally hit that perfect spot inside you and he groaned. He couldn’t get enough of the sounds you made. He chased every moan, every sigh, like an addict looking for his next fix and he knew that even if he got to make love to you a million times over, it would never be enough. You were the sea and he was a sailor lost to the rip-tide, ready to drown in your depths. His hips began to lose their rhythm as he felt the first tendrils of his impending climax creeping up his spine and he was torn between the near desperate need to come and not wanting this to ever end. He slipped his hand between your sweat slick bodies to circle your clit as he worked his hips harder, determined that you should reach completion right along with him. Your nails dug in to his shoulder involuntarily as your orgasm hit you and you whispered his name like a prayer. The spike of pain only heightened his pleasure as he followed you over the edge, spilling his seed deep within you. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - You turned on to your side so that you were lying face to face, so close that your noses were touching, your limbs tangled together and sweat cooling on your skin. The rain showed no sign of stopping and you knew that you should get dressed, go back inside before you both caught a chill, but you were content to bask in the afterglow for as long as possible. Nikolai seemed to be in agreement. He made no effort to move beyond stroking his fingers up and down the length of your arm in a slow caress, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his path. “Marry me,” he murmured and your tender heart skipped a beat.

You didn’t know what to say, so you settled for just a slight shake of your head. Nikolai sighed dramatically. “Before you give me your final answer, I should tell you that declining the King’s hand almost certainly counts as treason.”

“You’re already engaged,” you pointed out, rolling your eyes. “Not if I don’t want to be,” he said easily. “I don’t care about making a political alliance and I’m sure Alina doesn’t either. She’ll likely be relieved to be rid of me, as will her tracker.” “You’re the King,” you reminded him, “You can’t just marry whoever you want on a whim.” “Actually I can,” he smirked, looping an arm around your waist to pull you even closer. “I can do as I please, because I am the King. A perk of the position is being able to indulge all of my whims.” “We both know that’s not true. You have to do what is best for Ravka, and making a bastard orphan your Queen is not it.” “Why not? They already have a bastard King, why not complete the matching set?” he grinned. “Nikolai…” He sighed exasperatedly. “If you come up with any more objections, I’m going to get my feelings hurt.” “But your advisors -“ you argued. “Are just that, advisors. They give me advice, but I do not have to take it. In fact, I much prefer to completely ignore them whenever possible. It keeps them humble,” he winked. “Nikolai, be serious,” you admonished. “I am,” he protested, “I have never been more serious about anything in my life. I have given Ravka everything I have, I am allowed to be selfish in this. I want you and I shall have you as my wife, provided you will allow it.” Your stomach did a little flip and you bit your lip, trying not to show how affected you were by his words. “I don’t know,” you mused, your tone teasing, “I have had several offers for my hand this evening. I shall have to consider my options.” “Of course,” he agreed, nodding sagely before his smile turned wicked, “but perhaps there is something I could do to tip the balance in my favor?” He nudged you gently onto your back and shifted over you so that he could trail a path of teasing kisses across your collarbone and down the length of your body. “Mmmm” you hummed airily, pretending to think about it. You threaded your fingers through the mess of his curls as he reached the apex of your thighs. “Perhaps.”

#nikolai lanstov x reader #Nikolai Duology #nikolai lantsov #Smut #fluff #pining #idiots in love #Grishaverse #Zoya is my queen but not in this fic #i wrote this

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xxwritemeastoryxx · 5 months

Text

What the Future Holds Ch. 1

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: No set pairings.

Word Count: 3198

Warnings: 18+ MDNI please! There really isn't anything to warn about in this one. We're just getting started. There canon typical threats and mentions of free will being taken away. A single mention of being sold. I think that's it.

Author’s Note: This should have been out ages ago, but it's finally done and ready for you guys! Also I would like to note that in this chapter, the twins are 20 years old. I usually try to keep age out of my fics but for some reason it was a detail that was needed. However, before we fully jump into the story the twins will be 25.

I do not and will not ever give permission for my fics to be copied and posted on other sites. Don’t do it. Don’t be that person that ruins it for me and everyone else.

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. While likes are appreciated, reblogs are gold. Seriously, if you enjoyed this in the slightest, please reblog ♥

A sense of deja vu washed over the L/Ns as they stood within the Mikaelson study. Elijah had stood by the large bay windows as he went over the written contract in his hands. Each paragraph of it he had read thrice to ensure he hadn’t missed anything. Anything to help them out of their own stupidity.

“What persuaded you to go to the De Martels?” Elijah’s voice had almost sounded bored. Almost as if he wasn’t worried about the details that the pages contained. But after being around for as long as he had, it was as easy as breathing to make it seem like there was nothing to be worried about.

“We weren’t meeting deadlines as we should have been.” Dante L/N had said keeping his chin up. Unlike his visit with his rather distant grandmother, he wouldn’t look away from Elijah. He knew that all he had to do was blink the wrong way and there was a possibility of not opening his eyes again. “With the recent region transfer of powers, we were close to losing everything.”

The regions were constantly changing. Ever since the uprising, country and state lines no longer existed. Territories were claimed through slaughter while creating new lines. Regions belonged to those who had dared to take it over and maintain it. This family of L/N’s had lived on the border of where the De Martels had taken over and where The Mikaelsons had control of the region.

The Mikaelsons’ region contained what used to be a majority of the southern states. Most of the gain had been due to Klaus claiming it. Taking out the annoying young that refused to listen had been easy. Running the region had been a completely different story. One that Klaus left Elijah to deal with.

The stories that had been passed down through the generations had expressed that Elijah had changed since the vampires had taken over the world. The nobility of the Original vampire had died the moment his eldest sister had been murdered at the hands of humans that sought out to rid the world of the supernatural.

The L/Ns hadn’t personally known the Mikaelsons until recently. The young couple had barely made it back home after the birth of their twins when they were introduced to the Mikaelsons. A binding contract had been made that night. One that would ensure that the family would be protected until the children became of age.

“Why not come to me with these matters?” Elijah asked as he placed the contract down on the table. “The De Martels may have obtained new territory, but that does not instantly grant them ownership of business.”

It amused Elijah on how easily humans nowadays would jump into the agreement with vampires without looking over anything. While at times it had been amusing, he longed for the days that the humans would actually think before making a deal with a devil.

“Much like the night you came to us,” Dante began. “The De Martels had come knocking. Every piece of data had been combed through and used to present us with this offer. I believed it to be beneficial, until Clara had expressed how blindly I had gone into this.”

A small smirk pulled at the corner of Elijah’s lips. “How is the darling Clara doing these days?” He had known Clara for a handful of centuries. While he had never interfered in her life in ways he wished he had, he watched as the woman had grown into a power of her own. “Must have been one painstakingly long night if she looked over this.” He waved his hand towards the contract.

“Is there truly no loophole?” Dante’s wife asked, ignoring the questions that had been asked by the vampire. “I do not wish to be rude, but I know the safety of my children is at stake. And with that safety is also the agreement we have with your family. I’d hate for it to be violated by my husband's mistake.”

Elijah sighed as looked at her. “There is no loophole. The De Martels know how to work things in their favor. But with or without your husband’s ‘mistake’.” His eyes flashed over to him for a moment before looking back towards her. “I give you my word that I will do everything in my power to ensure your children stay safe.” He watched as she let out a shuddering breath. Even if the stories said he had become ruthless, everyone knew his word was binding. Elijah Mikelson never broke his word.

“Thank you.” She said with a slight nod.

He nodded in return. “How are their lessons?”

The three of them knew this was a way to change the subject. To change it in a way that would give the two humans some breathing room, even if it was just for a moment.

“Alexander is thriving.” She said with a smile pulling at her lips. “We believe that in a few years time he’ll be able to take over the business and when the time is right, he’ll do fine with the prophecy you’ve told us.”

“What of Y/N?” Elijah asked and he watched their faces fall. It caused him to raise a brow.

“Her head is in the clouds more.” She said with a sigh. “It is as if she knows that her life will be set and the importance of lessons isn’t at the top of her list.”

“Perhaps I should speak with her.” Elijah offered. He watched their eyes widen for a moment in fear. “Fear and ignorance is what has led us into our current situation. Striking fear into Y/N will do nothing but hinder her. It is my intention to help steer her in the right direction.”

“With Compulsion?” Dante asked, a bit of venom lacing his words. The need to protect his daughter rising within his veins.

Elijah scoffed. “Anyone else would. They’d actually do worse to her in order to get her to fall in line.” With each word that he said the two in front of him had their fear grow at the possibilities that could happen to their daughter. “It’d be easy to bend her mind to do as needed. To make her obedient. However, my method of speaking to someone who could potentially change the course of things isn’t to manipulate them in any way. I was merely suggesting a moment to encourage her to use those clouds she's found herself in to her advantage.”

If there was one thing that hadn’t changed with Elijah, his way with words was enough to give the right push without so much as using compulsion. There were other methods to ensure things were done as they needed to be. And while he would occasionally use compulsion to his advantage on numerous occasions, using it on Y/N was and never would be considered an advantage. Not when some twist in Fate deemed the L/N twins the very two that would give the world back the balance nature so desperately wanted.

Before the Vampires had taken over, Freya had strange premonitions that gave heavy meanings to peace and balance. Flashes of a future that seemed so chaotic and almost barbaric had plagued the witch for weeks with no understanding of what it could mean. What threat the Mikaelsons would face.

Elijah could easily remember the day Freya had told him and their siblings of some prophecy that was shown to her. The details were almost laughable. How could a world change so much to warrant nature to demand a balance when the details of it all had seemed so fictional. While the majority of the siblings had brushed it off, Elijah had asked for every details.

“The natural balance of things will be threatened. I do not know by who or what, let alone when this chaos is supposed to unfold.” Freya explained. “I just know that a particular set of twins from a particular bloodline are supposed to be the balance that we will need.”

“What kind of balance would they even be capable of providing?” Elijah asked. He had known about several covens and their fascination with twins.

“One will stay human. The other will become a vampire when the time is right.” She explained. “What I’ve seen of them, they aren’t of current times. It will be some time before they are even born, let alone old enough for what needs to be done.”

“Nature doesn’t wait for it’s balance to manifest generations later.” He noted.

“I know.” She sighed. “That is where it doesn’t make sense. Why will the balance favor vampires so easily? All I know are the images and names of the children. Something horrible is going to happen, Elijah and I don’t know if I’ll be around to help fix it.”

“Tell me how I can help.” He offered, wanting to ease the worry that was building up within his sister.

“Unless you know fraternal twins named Alexander and Y/N L/N, then I don’t even know where to start with the help.”

A month later the world descended into chaos and there wasn’t much the Mikaelsons could do to stop it from unfolding. They could only adapt as the world changed. Including murdering the hundreds of humans that had hunted down and murdered every witch within New Orleans, including Freya.

Elijah had kept every detail Freya had told him locked within his mind. A way to hold on to not only the memory of his sister, but to make sure he did everything he could to help fulfill the prophecy that she had seen.

It had been Clara that had told Elijah about the twins when they had been born. At first it had only been mentioned out of disbelief. The L/Ns never had twins in their family and the first set had been born within the freedom of her protection. From there, Elijah had questioned about their names. And when he had every detail, he knew they were who Freya had seen.

That had been twenty years ago. Elijah had created a contract that would work in the world’s favor. The twins would get the protection they needed while ensuring they received the proper education and training for what was destined for them. While Elijah had hoped that ‘right time’ wouldn’t come until they were well into their twenties, he couldn’t be a hundred percent about it. All he could do was prepare them.

“She does prefer you over her recent tutors.” Her voice broke Elijah from his thoughts of the past. “Maybe speaking with you would be best.”

She was trying to ease the tension that was growing between the three of them. It hadn’t been a lie though. The three of them had noticed the way Y/N had preferred the way Elijah tutored her over the hired tutors. She wasn’t so easily distracted with the humans that tried to keep up with the lessons that Elijah had instructed the twins take.

Elijah nodded his head. “Have they traveled with you?”

“Of course.” Dante nodded.

“Then send her in and I’ll discuss it with her.” That was the only kind of dismissal that Elijah was giving them. He wasn’t going to continue the conversation when he knew it would lead to Elijah probably losing his temper on Dante over his stupidity.

He watched as the pair collected their things, including the contract and stepped out of the study. Elijah had been alone for only a few moments before Y/N had stepped into the room. She hadn’t even bothered to knock on the door. And for a brief moment, an amused smile pulled at Elijah’s lips.

“My parents said you wished to speak with me?” She asked as she closed the study door behind her.

It was strange to see how much she had reminded him of how humans used to react before things changed. In comparison to her parents Y/N didn’t give off an ounce of fear. Where her mother had kept her eyes downward, Y/N’s eyes stayed focused on him. There wasn’t even fear that he’d use compulsion with how she held his gaze.

Her eyes had matched her mother’s but there were flecks of silver that seemed to find a new home within her irises any time she blinked. Alexander’s eyes had the same thing but with gold flecks. But unlike Y/N, the flecks never seemed to change position as hers did. But there was one thing for certain as Elijah took in her eyes. She did not fear the world around her one bit.

“I did.” He nodded his head. “I was told your preference of tutors is making it difficult to focus on your studies.”

The neutrality she had on her features the moment she walked in had now shifted. A slight frown had pulled at her lips. However her eyes never left his face. “It’s not a matter of preferring specific tutors. It feels one sided.” When she watched him raise his brow, she continued. “The tutors are human. Any history lessons that are being provided are from that of a human. A human that has learned the details with prejudices embedded. I find it difficult to understand it when venom is laced in the words so often.”

A small hum of acknowledgement had left Elijah. “That is the point of some of those lessons. Words spewed out of hatred when the world descended into chaos will give you an opened mind when learning of what can be prevented. Yes, a vampire could give you more in depth details and firsthand accounts. It would include, if not be filled with more of the same venom about humans.”

“I understand.” She nodded. She paused for a moment, sorting out her words. “I know my tutors have been switched out more often than Alex. I do try, Elijah. I pass my courses and attempt to stay on track. But-”She stopped herself. A string of thoughts playing through her mind that she should probably keep the matter to herself. “I will make sure I do not disappoint.”

Elijah hadn’t missed the way she stopped herself or how her eyes had shifted away as she decided against whatever it was she was about to say. He had known how many times the tutors had changed. He had been the one to replace them each time. He just never understood why, until he was speaking with her now.

“Alexander doesn’t receive the same venom in the lessons.” It wasn’t a question, but Y/N began shaking her head quickly.

“No. He does not.” Her eyes hadn’t come back up to Elijah. She had now been looking down at her hands. “I know this prophecy like the back of my hand. I know I am supposed to help restore the balance with Alex. I am human until necessary. I do not expect to be treated as some savior that has the world at their feet.” She finally brought her attention back up to Elijah. She could see something different within his eyes that she didn’t believe she had seen before. She just couldn’t place what it was. “But I’d prefer not to be treated as if I am filth for being the one to become a vampire in this deal.”

“You haven't mentioned this to your parents?” Elijah found himself walking around the desk, attempting to give some comfort. Though he made no move to actually do so.

“Not since the first time.” She shook her head. “They feel as though I am crying wolf when Alex doesn’t have the same thing happening to him.

Elijah nodded. “Tomorrow, you’ll have a new tutor. Alexander will continue on with the one he currently has.” When he saw her open her mouth to protest, he held up his hand. “A vampire one to ensure the cycle doesn’t continue.”

“My parents-”

“Will be made aware of who they will be inviting into their home.” He gave a single nod of his head. “We will try it this way. If there isn't improvement, we’ll change it back to the way it was.” Elijah watched as she nodded her head. “That will be all.”

Y/N nodded her head before she turned around to leave. She had barely taken a step before turning back around. “Elijah, there is something you should know about, that my parents do not know yet. Only because I wouldn't put it past them to tell you.”

“What would that be?” He asked.

“I’ve- we’ve been having visions of things.” She watched the way his eyes widened slightly. “Things from the past and possibly future things from the look of it. But it wakes us up like a nightmare. Alex denies that it’s happening, but I can hear him pacing at night just after I have mine.”

“What was the last thing you saw?” He asked curiously.

“Chaos.” She shrugged slightly. “Witches being murdered. A woman with blonde hair tried to reach out, but couldn’t. It was like she was trying to tell me something and I couldn’t figure it out.”

“How often do these happen?” He knew this was something to do with who the twins were, what they were meant for.

“It randomly happens. Once or twice a month. But the first one happened the night of our birthday. “

Elijah moved back towards the desk and opened one of the bottom drawers before coming back around. He came to a stop directly in front of her and handed her an empty journal. “Write them down, please. Any detail you recall once you wake. Even if it frightens you to think, write it down. The next time either I drop by or your parents come to see me, bring it. That way we can try to piece together what you are seeing.”

Taking the journal, she held it close to her and nodded her head. “It's getting close, isn't it?”

Elijah sighed softly. “That I don’t know. But it seems like it may be the beginning of it.”

Her eyes fell to the journal in her hands. “There's one vision that I think you should know about now.” She couldn't bring her eyes back up. Not with what she was about to tell him. And the thoughts of the vision actually caused her eyes to well up.

Elijah hadn't missed the way her voice almost dropped to a whisper. Nor did he miss the way she was purposely keeping her attention from him. And for the first time since he met Y/N, he saw the fear that was seeping into her.

He gently brought his fingers under chin and lifted it, bringing her attention towards him. He saw the tears instantly and if anything the silver flecks in her eyes were almost gone.

“What is it?” His voice had almost been the same level as hers, with a comforting touch.

“I was still human.” She began. A need to make it known that detail was clear in the vision. “I was sold to Purgatory.”

All WorksTag (The tag to be notified for everything I write): @mrs-maximoff-kenner @mizzzpink @friendelius @thatfanficstuff @mushroomelephant @23victoria @avengers-fixation @fayeatheart @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @wearehufflepuffs

Always and Forever Tags (All things TVDU): @hi-my-name-is-riley @helenasingers @hellotvshowtrash @dpaccione @elijahs-wife @akshi8278 @imgoingtofreakoutnow @kpopgirlbtssvt @ts1mp0ne @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @bluebear142077 @mysticfallsfics @nniklausmikaelson @fandom-princess-forevermore @morganaah @mxacegrey @freyathehuntress

Stag Tag: (All Things Elijah Mikaelson) @xxsovereignsarayaxx @astudyoftimeywimeystuff @marvel-at-stucky @silvermercy @cassiopeia-black-brenda @nalledimessi @starkleila @attractive-insomnia

The Originals Tag: (All Things The Originals) @dpaccione @thatweirdoleigh @charli123456789

#the originals #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x reader #reader insert #Elijah Mikaelson fics #Elijah Mikaelson fanfics #Elijah Mikaelson fic #What the future holds #Tvdu #Eventual Elijah Mikaelson x fem reader #Fem!reader #18+ mdni #Dark fic #Elijah Mikaelson

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jienem · 1 year

Text

His Human

Y/N's parents often vacation with her in a cabin near the woods every spring. The young girl, no less than twelve years old, shares a little excitement about going into the cabin every year. While she worries about dangers in the forest, her parents don't seem to worry; in fact, they even encourage her to explore, much to her dismay. Despite their nonchalance, she wasn't keen on going outside, preferring to stay indoors and read in the library all day. After much convincing from her parents and promising to buy her gifts, she finally agreed begrudgingly. Her parents showed happiness and praised her, hugging her tightly. While she wondered why they were enthusiastic about her leaving. If they wanted her to leave, they could have just said so.

Y/N sighed and left the house with a basket and book in hand. The trees swayed slowly while the forest was empty. When she walked in, she expected to see many small animals in the area, such as rabbits, birds, squirrels, and more. But she was alone. Her footsteps were the only noise. She didn't pay much attention and only hummed while searching for a place to lay down. To her luck, she found a lake leading to a spot nearby perfect for laying; the sun wouldn't be a problem, but the most perfect one is.

She laid down her basket and sat beside it. The view. One thing she notices is that the view here of the castle of the fairies is magnificent. Admiring the scenery, she reluctantly turned to her book before delving into the pages until the sun was setting.

The next day, she came back with a blanket, papers, and a quill. She was taking this time to write for her grandmother and a friend who was living in the village of Harvest. When she went back home yesterday, her parents were overjoyed once more, to the point of making her snacks more than usual. She couldn't help but puzzle at their reactions but nonetheless shook her head in response. Her hand took out a piece of bun from the basket while she was writing and began eating when she suddenly heard voices in her left side. Her eyes moved in that direction as she watched the bushes shake violently while the voice grew louder.

"I swear I smelled delicious food around here; just let me prove it to you, oh!" Their eyes met. Her eyes widened as she stared at his yellow-green slit eyes. Both look so shocked at each other, to the point of freezing from where they stand. They stood there for a good few minutes before he, the boy around her age, looked down at what she was holding and furrowed his eyebrows.

"What are you going to do with that?" the boy questioned. Y/N looked down at where he was pointing, and embarrassment started to creep on her. Unbeknownst to her, she uses the half-eaten bun as a weapon in his direction. A laughable choice indeed.

"Nothing. " was all she could reply before quickly removing the bun. They stayed silent until another figure emerged behind the boy, who was inches taller than him. She noticed the strange color of his hair and unique eyes but didn't comment.

"Sebek, if you wanted—oh hi." The other boy paused as he noticed her. Y/N waved shyly in his direction. He returned the gesture before apologizing that they may have bothered her. To which she disagreed and smiled politely.The person who was called Sebek furrowed his eyebrows more and crossed his arms while he assessed her. She, who didn't like being assessed, carefully watched him before making her move.

"If you would excuse me, I have business to attend to." She spoke, drained by this ordeal, and used this time to pack her belongings while thinking of moving to another place for a spot. Her little secret place wasn't so secret anymore. How sad that she likes this place, but oh well. The two boys looked at each other before a bicker started to take place.

"You really should apologize, you know."

"I didn't even do anything; I just stumbled into this place, okay?"

"I don't suppose my father would agree; walking into someone else's place was a boundary."

Y/N noted he was smart. And she bows to him mentally. Sebek made a hmp sound before mumbling something incoherently while she watched in disdain.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

"Nothing of your concern, human; move along," he said loudly at that one. This irked her a little; who was he to order her around?

"Hmm, is that so? Well, I guess I have to put away these delicious foods I have here. Oh, what a shame." y/n knows no bounds. She tested his emotions by putting her hand in her cheek and sighed theatrically.

"I guessed if I don't eat them all, I might as well put them somewhere else."

"You!" he accused, but a grumbled sound echoed around them. The unique-eyed boy and y/n look in Sebek's direction with amusement dancing in their eyes. Sebek tensed, a blush emerging from his cheeks, and he screamed.

"Tch, what are you all looking at?!"

~~~

Sebek started to eat quickly while the other boy only sat by their side. The three of them sat down after the event, not uttering another word, when she noticed she still hadn't known their names. Sebek could be a nickname, for all she knows.

"Sorry for interrupting, but my name is y/n L/n. And you two are?" y/n introduced slowly. She watches their interaction by simply glancing at each other before Sebek gulps down his food while proudly exclaiming.

"I'm Sebek Zigvolt, and this is Silver, a knight in training to serve his great highness Malleus Sama." Y/N flinched at the volume of his voice but couldn't hide her excitement.

"Really?! As in the prince himself?!"

"Of course, human!"

"Not to you, you crocodile!"

"you!-"

Silver watches as they bicker with a smile on his face. It was a peaceful day.

~~~

"Ah, my, I apologize for staying here; do you two live nearby?" y/n asked after minutes of arguing with Sebek, finally switching to a sleepy silver who was surrounded by animals at his side. Y/N watches dumbfoundedly, amazed at how many animals are at his side at once, before petting a rabbit who launches at her.

"Not far from here, there is a cabin where I live with my father. Sebek, on the other hand, was merely visiting for training. And you?" he managed to reply despite the drowsiness enveloping him. Y/N merely chuckled and replied that she was also nearby with her parents.

"So what are you doing in this forest?" Sebek, despite their earlier debates leaving him in a sour mood, asked while cleaning the messes he made. Y/N paused for a short period of time, debating whether to tell him she was forced to explore the forest or bribed by gifts. She picked the latter.

"Oh well, my parents wanted me to explore the woods and simply chose this spot for my resting." straight to the point, or so she thought. Sebek nodded in response before noticing an inked piece of paper at the side.

"Hey, what is this?" he questioned before taking the paper into his hands. He didn't even look at the paper; he just stared at her before holding it out to her. Y/N appreciated his gesture and quickly folded the papers, placing the quill inside her pockets.

"Just a letter," she said, not indulgent him more, and soon looked up at the sky and was surprised to see how much time had passed. When she left, the sun was only at its peak, but now the sunset was at its highest.

"Well, I should head back now; it's getting late. I really enjoyed our conversation." She truly did; she smiled and waved at the two who waved her goodbye with a smile on their faces. Y/N turned to Sebek with a small smirk on her face.

"I would bring tomorrow a special meal just for you."

"Please do not ever return!"

She did return with a basket full of handmade foods her mother and she had made. Watching Sebek's expression when she truly came amused her. What an eventful day!

Hi everyone! Thank you for taking your time to read this story, this is my first time posting thus I hope you all enjoyed this little entry so I was kinda nervious about this one but I was planning for a continuation to this story what do you think? Leave your comments below!

#twst sebek x reader #disney twst #twst #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst sebek #twst silver #sebek zigvolt #sebek zigvolt x reader #twst imagines #silver #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland sebek #sebek x reader #twst x y/n

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mourningliliesmorningglories · 3 months

Text

"Your clothes in the dryer. Your hair on the shower wall. Your toothbrush is too much. Your shoes empty in the hall."

James felt the absence before he saw it. He wondered how long he could keep everything resembling something normal. He wondered if he was the cheese that rots in the mousetrap. Regulus was everywhere, haunting him, taunting him. Regulus had belongings scattered all over his room; books on the bedside table, a quill on the desk since he disapproved of the glide of a biro, a grey blanket cast carelessly over the window seat. He remembered them wrapped up in it, Regulus telling him that their brains were 75% water and even then, that water was already on its way to become something else. The rain. The snow. The condensation on his window. James doesn't know how much water they shared. He hoped he'd feel him in the rain or the snow or in the condensation and know. You borrowed this water from him, ergo he is still here.

"The books on your shelf that you never read. The hunting knife you kept by your bed. The flowers you dried and tied up with twine, suspended from the ceiling."

Regulus knew that you couldn't be in two places at once. He couldn't love him and keep him. He couldn't succeed and lose everything. He didn't mean to not say goodbye, but omission is wishful thinking. James' face was undeniably hopeful when they parted for his final summer break. He couldn't say he was scared of the future or the person he had become. Regulus knew that just because something is left unsaid, it doesn't lose its meaning. A bag packed with hidden intention is still deceitful. A goodbye kiss is a goodbye kiss, even when only one pair of lips knows. Regulus could not live the life he desired and the one he was destined for. Regulus was named after the stars and so he trusted that his future had been written in them for as long as the cosmos existed. Yet he was selfish, quill to parchment, master to servant. It was unfair of him to make the request to Kreacher, to deliver the letter in a moment of quiet. It was unfair of him to give the directions ‘To James Potter, on his kitchen table, at dawn of the chosen day.’

"You tell me you love me, like it'll be the last time. Like you're playing out, the end of a storyline. I say I love you too, because it's true. What else am I supposed to do?"

It was the tail end of summer in 1980 when the letter came. Settled on the edge of the dining table in Godric's Hollow, as if knowing James was always the first awake, it sat addressed to him. He would know that handwriting on his deathbed, it stayed sat in his lowest desk drawer. The envelope was crisp with time, the ink faded from black to grey. The parchment had fared no better. Yellowed and splattered with faint water marks. He saw the words on the page and yet, not a single one made sense. James thinks of Harry, still flushed red with the newfound world, and Lily, who shone brighter than sun, who guided him home. James had made a life he couldn’t give back. He’d committed to woman, son and war. He thinks of all he lost to get here and why it came back. It feels like flying along the coast. Sea as far as the eye can see. Then abruptly, land.

"Begin, be done. Break a vow, make a new one. Call me if you need a friend, or never talk to me again. But please stay."

To the moon,

If you are reading this, I am dead, and you have moved on. Know I did not leave without saying goodbye because I wanted to consider that I might see you just once more. There is something I must do because I believe it may save you. I’d search one hundred oceans and one hundred caves. I’d drink from the cursed cup and yet not ask for your forgiveness. ‘I used to love you’ is not a phrase I shall entertain. There is only love. Nothing else. Even this I do selfishly. I would love to go back to how we were, wrapped in grey blankets, tracing shapes in windowpanes. Know that all my goodness is owed to you, my life is an oath in ode to you.

Please live. Please burn the letters and look ahead. Do not miss the lilies bloom.

R.A.B

wc: 770 // @jegulus-microfic

#harry potter #marauders #regulus black #james potter #jegulus #james x regulus #james potter x regulus black #micro fics #i couldn’t stop thinking of them and this song #angst #boy genius #jily is mentioned #no lily bashing will be tolerated tyvm #this is actually lucy dacus not boy genius #sue me #this gave me a headache

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st-joseph-rtc · 22 days

Text

Welcome to the school of St Joseph!

This is a blog for some RTC OCs that belong to another school in Uranium!

THIS BLOG IS CURRENTLY PRE-CYCLONE!

! Rules !

NSFW is fine, just please not too explicit! Any asks that fall in this category will not be answered and will be deleted!

Be patient to get your answer! All of us have different timezones so different people answer at different times! We have lives too. (Though this means that one admin might be online at all times which could be seen as a positive! :D!)

! Characters !

Alessia Corvo ( -🥊🖤) Alessia's info page!

Carlos Daniel Alvarez (- 🛹🌿) Carlos' info page

Elias Archer ( -🧷🌹) Eli's Info Page!

Gabriel Charles Allaire-Kingston (-💛🥀) Gabe’s info page!

Theodore Robert Thompson (-🎢) Theo's Info Page!

Clementine Victoria Harriet Philippa Devereux (- 🍊💸) Clem's Info Page!

Callahan Lincoln Alastair Montgomery Devereux (- 🖱🎮) No info page yet.

Harleen "Morgan" Devonshire (-💬) Morgan’s info page!

Marlena Harris (-🌟🧠) Marlena’s info page!

Cameron Beck (-📸) Cam’s info page!

Lindsey Tam (- 🗺✈️) Lin's info page!

Cavity "Knob" Anderson (-🚪) No info page yet.

! Admins !

Hi hi i'm Milo, on Tumblr as @/milsandmillio. i own 3, now 4 different ask blogs and i thought this would be really silly to do with my friends. I use They/Them and I'll be responding for/as Alessia Corvo and Elias Archer.

Heya, I'm known commonly as Persefoni. Long time tumblr user and long time roleplayer as well. I run a few other blogs. I use He/They pronouns and will be doing responses for/as Theodore Robert Thompson.

Hii!! I'm Ezra (cyclqnes). I own a couple of ask blogs. I was on Tumblr way back in 2020, then a little bit in 2023. I use he/him pronouns and I'll be responding as Clementine and Callahan Devereux.

Hey! I'm Malakai. You may know me as @/mmmalakai or @/therealbadegg on the Tumblr - I am well known there! I use he/him pronouns and I will be responding for/as Marlena Harris, Harleen "Morgan" Devonshire, Cameron Beck, and Gabriel Charles Allaire-Kingston.

! Relationships/Friendships !

Alessia's Relations!

Alessia dislikes Clementine.

Alessia is neutral towards Callahan.

Alessia is friends with Theo.

Alessia is neutral towards Morgan.

Alessia is friends with Marlena.

Alessia is friends with Cam.

Alessia dislikes Eli.

Alessia dislikes Gabriel.

Alessia dislikes Carlos.

Eli's Relations!

Eli is friends with Gabriel.

Eli is friends with Carlos.

Eli is "dating" Clementine.

Eli is neutral but respects Callahan.

Eli dislikes Theo.

Eli dislikes Alessia.

Eli dislikes Marlena.

Eli dislikes Morgan.

Eli dislikes Cam.

Gabriel’s relations!

Gabriel dislikes Alessia.

Gabriel is friends with Eli.

Gabriel is friends with Carlos.

Gabriel dislikes Theo.

Gabriel is neutral towards Clementine (he wants her man).

Gabriel is neutral toward Callahan.

Gabriel is friends with Morgan (they both want Eli and Clem to break up).

Gabriel is neutral towards Marlena.

Gabriel dislikes Cameron.

Theo's relations!

Theo is friends with Alessia.

Theo dislikes Clementine.

Theo is neutral towards Callahan.

Theo is friends with Franciszka.

Theo is friends with Marlena.

Clementine's relations!

Clementine is neutral towards Callahan.

Clementine is neutral towards Theo.

Clementine dislikes Alessia.

Clementine is friends with Morgan, but it's complicated.

Clementine is dating Eli, but there is no feelings involved.

Callahan's Relations!

Cal is neutral towards Clementine, but he respects her.

Cal is neutral towards Theo.

Cal is neutral towards Alessia.

Cal is neutral towards Morgan, but he feels sympathy for them.

Morgan's relations!

Morgan is neutral towards Alessia, but they admire her.

Morgan dislikes Eli.

Morgan is friends with Gabriel (they both want Clem and Eli to break up).

Morgan is neutral towards Carlos.

Morgan is neutral towards Theo.

Morgan is friends with Clementine, albeit a toxic friendship.

Morgan is neutral towards Callahan.

Morgan is neutral towards Marlena.

Morgan is neutral towards Cam.

Marlena's relations!

Marlena is friends with Alessia.

Marlena dislikes Eli.

Marlena dislikes Gabriel.

Marlena is neutral towards Carlos.

Marlena is friends with Theo.

Marlena dislikes Clementine.

Marlena is neutral towards Callahan.

Marlena is neutral towards Morgan.

Marlena is friends with Cam.

Cameron’s relations!

Cam is friends with Alessia.

Cam dislikes Eli.

Cam dislikes Gabriel.

Cam dislikes Carlos.

Cam is friends with Theo.

Cam dislikes Clementine.

Cam is neutral towards Callahan.

Cam dislikes Morgan.

Cam is friends with Marlena.

! Extra/Misc !

#General Asks! - Asks that are not directed towards any specific choir member

#Theodore Asks - Asks for Theodore Robert Thompson

#Alessia Asks - Asks for Alessia Corvo

#Eli Asks - Asks for Elias Archer

#Gabe Asks - Asks for Gabriel Allaire-Kingston

#Carlos Asks - Asks for Carlos Alvarez

#Clem Asks - Asks for Clementine Devereux

#Cal Asks - Asks for Callahan Devereux

#Morgan Asks - Asks for Harleen "Morgan" Devonshire

#Marlena Asks - Asks for Marlena Harris

#Cam Asks - Asks for Cameron Beck

#OOC - Anything that is OOC, like announcements etc.

! More blogs in the universe !

@st-josephs-gossip-blog

#rtc ocs #OOC

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majorproblems77 · 3 months

Text

Recalled updated! Okay okay okay im very excited about this lets gooooo!

HI!

How are yall doing? I've been freed, (then I got sick haha.) We are back with the final part of Directionless and we find the main group inside Hyrule castle trying to figure out what to do next.

With some shenanigans along the way.

Okay, time for the important things! Recalled and all panels belong to @recalled11 and its wonderful artist @l3ominor. Go check it out!

You can find the comic page here!

Now, it is time for snacks and drinks, Let's do this! :D

Backgrounds my beloved, you get so much story telling from just this one shot it's great.

MAlon and Time and helping Wild gather information, Sky is resting his leg while flower and Sun discuss something.

Hmm, Sky's looking very serious right now. What's on your mind blorbo?

Look at him run. I love him.

Yoink.

This makes me chuckle. I love when we get Wild shenanigans.

I love how casual he is about this. But I'm gonna note something here.

The orange glow of what I assume is ultrahand. Which would be it, If this next panel didn't exist.

Wild's eye is glowing orange. The eye which changes colour when he's looking at the orb.

So Wild's eye changes colour based on what ability he is using.

Confusion and joy.

Like ust look at these guys

These two are just cackling at Time's expense. And Wild's shenanigans and I totally agree.

The man is still holding his hands out like he's still holding the books.

Flower's little pen for her pura pad. I love it. I can only assume She's got a little diagram on her screen which is just chaos

What's on the paper captain? I hope you didn't tear it out of your book.

I wonder if it's a group drawing of the war heroes looking at a reference picture while trying to find information would make sense. Depending on the length of time it's been since he was fighting that war.

Hiding something are we captain?

I reckon he's trying to figure out just who Time is. And has dug out a picture from the war. (Im unsure, do we get Big Brother Captain? Because I live for Big Brother Captain)

interesting we get symbols for these heroes.

What's the problem Time? Are you looking at someone who you recognise and now he's mentioned your hero title you dont want to talk about it?

Look at Malon, She's like 'You have gotta tell him.'

And Captain looks sad about it. Which tells me that he knows and that he's waiting for Time to approach him.

Thats interesting. We know we get Midna as a companion in Hyrule Warriors. And I assume that Fi mentioned Sky at one point.

I sense some Angst in our future.

Sun putting her hand on Sky's shoulder like that gives me life. i love these two a healthy amount okay.

Also these backgrounds are pretty, I love the triangle behind Sun and Sky here. Thats' Wisdom On the triforce (If observed on the left hand). And considering that sun is in the centre of the frame. I find this interesting. Maybe because they are learning a lot of information right now?

Okay, so you may be wondering who says this line on the left here. I was too. I reckon it's Sky. As a shock response to being mentioned by Captain.

Mainly because From the angle of the speech bubble and the location of the heroes in relation to Wild, it only gives a few heroes. Mainly Sky and Sun.

Sky asking this makes sense as he and sun are the newest to the group at this point.

Okay now its the time for the big one'

The orb. (Or compass,)

I've taken the time to translate the words I can identify and have extrapolated the rest of them from there. The language is Sheika, and most of these words are what (From what I understand) Is what Wild himself identifies each hero as.

So we have, (Rapid fire style)

Hero of Wind

Hero of Spriits

Hero of Sky

Hero of Time

Captain

These all say, Unknown.

A little more on this as well.

This circle around this orange arrow. I believe this is the arrow that Wild has chosen for them to approach. Orange if I had to give you a guess is Twilight's colour. Mainly from this bit before.

Backgrounds give a lot of information by themselves. This looks like a Twili portal.

The reason Wild chose that is unknown to me. During one of his adventures, he encountered Wolfie. So it makes sense. Maybe he was able to identify his name as Twilight. Or called the wolf that himself.

I suppose the next arc will give us more information!

Woo! Adventure time! :D

Okay, thats enough of me rambling.

Thanks for hanging out with me today! I love this comic so it's always a pleasure to write these!

Now I hope you all have a wonderful day!

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brrahbrrahcharacterimagines · 2 months

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Dirty Diary (Jiraiya x Reader)

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Jiraiya x Reader

Word Count: 502

Warnings: Talk of smut (read request), nothing explicitly sexual happens

Request: oooh could i request jiraiya with a writer s/o who’s awful at writing smut? i consider myself a pretty good writer but when it comes to nsfw…..i’m awful 😂 i think it’d be a good match for jiraiya all things considered lmao - @gonuclear

A/N: This has probably been in my inbox for forever, I hope you enjoy!

"What is this?" You heard your boyfriend say from your bedroom, making you freeze in place. His tone could only mean one thing.

He had found your diary.

The tall man walked out into your view, holding up the little pink book for you to see.

"Have you been writing a book of your own?"

You blushed, hoping he had not yet opened the diary. While you may be a happy couple now, you knew that the early pages of the diary contained page after page of your dirty thoughts about the man before you had the confidence to tell him yourself.

"Don't be embarrassed," he said confidently. "You know I'm a writer myself, and, well, you know what I write. So there can't be anything in here to be embarrassed of!" Jiraiya opened the diary, reading a random entry as you watched his smile drop in shock before returning even larger. "Or maybe I was wrong."

"Jiraiya," you whined, trying to grab the diary out of his hands as he read on. You were certain he had found an early entry. While you usually loved how much larger he was than you, it put you at quite the disadvantage now as you tried to regain control of your belongings.

"You wanted me," he said with a shit-eating grin, "to use my member on you?"

You felt your face burn.

"Wow, and you bet 'it has to be big because he's a big man."

Earth, please open up and swallow me whole.

You couldn't even look up to face Jiraiya anymore, knowing as bad as what he was reading was, it wasn't even the worst thing in that book. Realizing your reaction, Jiraiya softened.

"Hey," he said softly, "I was just joking around." You felt his hand on the bottom of your chin, turning your face gently to face his. "There you are," he said with a smile. "You know, I don't really have any room to talk. You're actually more bold than me."

You looked up at Jiraiya quizzically. There is no way he could consider you bold after reading that, and certainly not after you turned as red as you did from embarrassment.

"You know the issue of Icha Icha that was released right before I asked you out the first time?" You nodded slowly as he spoke. He smiled wide. "Did you ever notice how I described my main character aa a replica of you, repeatedly getting it on with a man eerily similar to myself?"

Your face flushed again, but this time it was accompanied by a smile.

He continued, "at least you were bold enough to write about me by name."

You snuggled into your boyfriend, feeling his arms wrap around you as you relaxed into his chest.

"So you're not mad?" You said softly.

"Mad?" Laughed Jiraiya. "It's hardly the first time I've thought about using my big member on you."

He's never going to let me live this down, you thought.

#jiraiya sensei x reader #jiraiya x reader smut #jiraiya x reader #jiraiya sensei #naruto shippuden x reader #naruto x reader #naruto #request

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tealin · 1 year

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Antarcticans

I may not have used my sketchbook as much as I thought I would, with regard to locations, but I did fill a few pages with one of my favourite pastimes back in The World: people sketching.

My biggest anxiety about going to McMurdo was the human factor. Whether it was school or work, a recurring motif in my life is that I do not do well in a big box full of Americans, and that is, almost literally, exactly what McMurdo is. Sure, the continent wants to kill you, and every way of getting to and around it comes with risk of serious accident, but the only thing I was actually afraid of was finding myself in a stressful social situation and not having any recourse to escape. I know how to build a snow cave. I don't know how to deflect the ire of people who've taken a set against me – and, for whatever reason, I tend to rub people in the States the wrong way. When I was shortlisted for the placement, the person handling the admin briefed me about the process and asked me if I had any further questions, and I raised this concern. She responded that, speaking purely from her own experience, she had never felt more comfortable being herself than when she was at McMurdo. Not knowing who 'herself' was, I took this with a grain of salt, but it was an encouraging answer nonetheless.

It turned out that the best thing about McMurdo was, in fact, those very people I had been afraid of. Everyone I met was absolutely splendid. In my first days there, my supervisor joked that if you shake the world, all the best people end up at the bottom; the remainder of my time there proved how right she was. One of the main things that attracted me to the Terra Nova story, and has kept me committed to it for so long, was how wonderful the people were – far outside what I had come to expect from humanity. Warm, genuine, accepting of and attentive to each other, a wide range of personalities and dispositions that nevertheless got on and functioned together as a society, in the face of environmental and emotional extremes ... I needed to know such people were possible, and clung to them as an ideal. It was a wonderful surprise to discover that they would not be out of place amongst their modern counterparts.

Is it because they're scientists, as someone theorised? But they're not – most of the people at McMurdo are support staff, working in the kitchen or waste disposal or shuttle fleet; helping the science happen, yes, but that's not necessarily why they're there, personally. Is it because a harsh environment triggers something in the human psyche to support each other, rather than compete? Maybe, but these people seem like they'd be solid wherever they are, and were like that before going South.

I suspect there is an element of self-selection – something about the sort of person who would want to go to Antarctica correlates with a certain mindset, one that gels extremely well with others who share it, however different they may be in other respects. There is no denying that everyone there is a bit odd. They tend to be types that exist on the fringes back in The World and, like me, may struggle to conform to its values. A few years ago, I came across this adage from an Antarctic veteran: "You go the first time for the adventure. You go the second time to relive the first time. You go the third time because you don't belong anywhere else." Many of them live in remote places, or travel, or do itinerant work when not on the Ice. There is a bit of a running gag in Where'd You Go, Bernadette? that everyone doing a mundane job in Antarctica is a high achiever in something amazing, who left it all behind – and that's not exactly untrue. Perhaps what unites Antarcticans is an awareness of what really matters, when you get right down to it: they've played the game enough to see through it, and are done with it. "Glory? He knew it for a bubble: he had proved himself to himself. He was not worrying about glory. Power? He had power." So Cherry wrote about Wilson in 1948, but many modern Antarcticans might sympathise. When you come out the other side of self-aggrandisement and jockeying for status, and are happy just to be yourself and let others be themselves, you get a happy, harmonious society. Or so it would seem.

At midnight on my last day there, I had a deep conversation with someone I'd only met in passing before, but who was totally down to have a long talk with a random stranger on a footbridge in the middle of the night. I presented her my hypothesis that no one at McMurdo was popular in high school. No, she replied; there may be a handful who were popular in high school ... but they're not popular at McMurdo. Maybe the secret is in there somewhere.

Anyway, I didn't do nearly as much people sketching as I'd have liked, given that the base was populated entirely by Characters, but these are the pages I did manage to get.

Two pages of random McMurdites, likely in the Galley:

These last four are from a meeting where team leaders were presenting their projects to some high muckymucks visiting from the NSF. I was only there because my project was allotted a space in the presentation, but the main focus was the massive Thwaites Glacier project, a collaboration between the US Antarctic Program and the British Antarctic Survey to study one of the most unstable regions in Antarctica. They quite rightly took up the whole meeting time, and the privilege of being there meant I learned a lot about the project. My longstanding habit is to draw during meetings, so I captured some of them in my sketchbook while absorbing the science into my head.

Notable characters in my sketches include: - David Vaughan, heading up the British contingent of the Thwaites team, was quite an engaging and affable guy but had a concentration scowl that puts mine in the shade. I was shocked when I heard he died of cancer earlier this year (2023) – a great loss to BAS, glaciology, and Antarctic science generally. - When Erin Pettit isn't studying glaciers with an eye to climate change, she's taking girls on wilderness adventures to foster an interest in science and art, as well as self-confidence. - Britney Schmidt, Queen of Icefin, not only earned my profound respect but has a whole episode of PBS's Terra dedicated to her work developing sub-ice autonomous robots with the aim of exploring Europa. (Seriously, so cool.)

I could go on about Antarctic people, but there's nothing so good as showing you, and luckily I can do just that. PBS sent a small team down in 2018 to do a YouTube series, and one of their episodes is all about the cool people who call McMurdo home. It might make my point better than all my whittering, and is certainly more fun. If you'd like to see more, Werner Herzog's film Encounters at the End of the World is much of the same, but more so. It had been recommended to me several times, but I hadn't managed to get my hands on it until a week before I left, when it turned out a Cambridge friend had a copy and lent it to me. 'I don't know how true it is,' he said, 'but I want it to be.' When I got back, I was happy to confirm to him that it was, indeed, exactly like that. And I miss it so much.

#antarctica #mcmurdo station #antarctic people #travel #david vaughan #erin pettit #werner herzog #encounters at the end of the world

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xoxoladyaz · 1 year

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AU-gust, Day One: Sculpture Artist

I saw the prompts and this grabbed me by the throat! I wrote it in about an hour, so my apologies if it's not up to my normal quality.

Steve wasn’t good at a lot of things.

He wasn’t very intelligent; while everyone else in town eagerly devoured the latest books delivered monthly by Murray, the traveling librarian, Steve struggled to make it through the first few pages. (He thought it might have been a curse at first, the way that the letters and words moved all over the page. When he had asked Madam Byers, the town witch, she had just smiled sadly at him and, well, he already knew everyone thought he was an idiot. He should really be used to it by now.)

He wasn’t the strongest or most athletic either; that honor belonged to Sir Hargrove and his knights. (Once upon a time Steve had been the one the town was counting on for protection. He was the one getting parades in the streets, catching handkerchiefs thrown by all of the eligible bachelors and bachelorettes. He was the son of Sir Harrington, after all.

But when the darkness came, when he took his stand against the creatures that appeared like smoke out of the great forest, his knights – his friends – abandoned him.

All except for Sir Hargrove, for Billy, his – well, it doesn’t matter anymore now, does it? All that matters is that Billy stuck his own sword into Steve’s back and left him to the creatures, only “rescuing” him once the damage had been done. And it did not matter what Steve said, or that there was a mark that clearly belonged to a sword on his spine; Billy, who was shortly knighted by Steve’s own father soon after, emerged the victor, flawless and golden.)

He was no longer the handsomest man in town (not next to Billy, not with scars all over his body.) He did not know a useful trade, given that he was not trained to have such. If he was the best at anything, it was at being a disappointment. An embarrassment. So much for the Harrington name, people still said on his infrequent ventures into town. Such a shame, such a waste.

So no, Steve formerly-of-House-Harrington was not particularly special in any way. If he had had some wit, or maintained some beauty, or was able to discuss the latest tales from court, perhaps things would be different. Perhaps he would have been accepted by the town. Instead, he lived in a small thatched cottage a morning’s ride away from the rest of Hawkins (the only thing his father gave him before taking his name, his money and his protection) and spent his days working in his garden, caring for his few elderly animals, and entertaining the children of the neighboring shepherds.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true; he did also work on his sculpting.

(The stone was from Robin, a traveling student. She had run into some trouble with her horse while passing through and Steve might not have been a knight anymore, but he still knew how to care for horses. Robin had offered to pay him for his help, but he would not accept it. It was payment enough to have someone his age to talk to. It was nice, to spend time with someone who did not know him as the former knight of Hawkins, as the disgraced noble he truly was; she just knew him as Steve and she saw a potential in him that he didn’t see in himself.

You are good with your hands, she had written in the note that had accompanied the massive piles of stone, delivered straight from the royal quarry. And you have much love in your heart. May this inspire you to see your own strength and beauty once again.)

She had probably expected him to use it to build a well, or perhaps some sort of fence for his small piece of land. But when he looked at the stone – a beautiful, shining white, the likes of which seemed far too grand for his small corner of the world – he could not see it serving such a purpose. No; this was made for something more.

He had never studied the arts; why would he, Steve of House Harrington, future knight of the realm, have had any need to learn what his father believed was woman’s work? Formal training, then, was something he did not have. But he did have fine tools, given to him by Madam Byers; he had a pair of crystal glasses, lent to him by Dustin, his favorite shepherd; and he had ample amounts of time to go slow, to focus on the task at hand. (Not that he really knew what he was creating, just that he was creating something.)

And so the months flew by: summer turned to fall and fall turned to winter, and when Steve was not doing his chores or tending to the young, he was slowly and patiently chipping away at the block of stone that he kept safely sheltered inside his small home, next to the worn-down hearth.

It wasn’t until he had knocked away the final chip of stone, until his bones had rattled with knowing that it was done, it was finally done, that Steve had finally realized just what he’d created.

It was a man, one near his age. He had the long hair of nobility, curled tresses that cascaded down his bare shoulders; he was clad in a simple robe much like the masters of old; large rings adorned his fingers, rings that proclaimed the man in front of him to be of royal blood. His feet were bare, as were his legs, and they were strong; he felt that if he looked closely enough, Steve would be able to see defined muscles underneath skin.

But the most striking part of the statute – aside from his royal dress and stature – was his face: a royal, aquiline nose above lips that were flushed with life and there, nestled under a noble brow, a pair of large, soulful eyes. The eyes were the same color as the rest of the statue, of course, but Steve found that the longer he stared into them, the more he felt that this statue, this man was staring back.

It didn’t seem possible, the longer Steve looked at it – at him. It didn’t seem possible that someone like Steve – the disgrace of Hawkins – could create something so beautiful, so ethereal, so entirely arresting as the man in front of him, because this man was the most beautiful man – human or statue – that Steve had ever seen.

And suddenly, Steve couldn’t bear to look at it. Couldn’t bear to live in a world where the thing that he was most proud of, that he had poured all of his time and attention and love into, was something that could never possibly return it. And even if the statue came alive, somehow, even if this perfect man was human, what would he possibly see in someone like Steve when there was a world of better, smarter, handsomer men out there?

Steve turned and reached for his hammer, the one blunt instrument that remained unused from Madam Byers' gift. He turned back around and, with a mighty cry, swung the hammer at the statue and sent it shattering into a thousand different pieces.

He expected that he would have to spend the rest of the night cleaning up the ruins of the one wonderful thing he had ever done.

He did not expect the stone to shatter and reveal a flesh and blood man standing before him.

The last of the stone fell to the ground and the man took a deep breath. He blinked once, twice, and then his eyes alighted on Steve. The moment their eyes met, the man’s formerly taciturn expression transformed into the brightest smile Steve had ever seen.

And it was a smile that was aimed at him.

“There you are,” the man said. He stepped forward and took Steve’s hand in his own. “I have been waiting a long time for you.”

Steve cleared his throat and looked down, unable to bear the enduring warmth in the man’s eyes. “I – I am sorry to disappoint you, my lord.”

“No,” the man chastened him, and a warm hand tucked itself under his cheek, pulling Steve’s eyes back to meet his. “You are everything I have been waiting for.”

“I'm afraid you must be mistaken, for I am just Steve. I can offer you nothing.”

“And I am just Eddie, and you are not just Steve,” the man – Eddie – replied firmly. “You are a kind man with a good heart. You care for other people and expect nothing in return. And most importantly of all, you dedicate your time and your love to everything, even things that cannot love you in return. Those are qualities sorely lacking in this world, and that makes them all the more valuable.

“I foresaw you long, long ago Steve of House Harrington,” the man finished quietly, a small smile now on his face. “And I would consign myself to thousands more years behind stone if it meant that one day I would find you.”

Steve did not know when he started to cry, he just knew that he had tears in his eyes. “You do me great honor, my lord.” Reaching for Eddie’s hands, the hands that oh-so-gently held Steve’s face, Steve drew them to his mouth and pressed watery kisses against his rings. “I will spend my life to be worthy of that. To be worthy of you.”

“Dear one,” Eddie said, and he laid his forehead against Steve. “You already are.”

Steve knew that he wasn’t good at a lot of things. He would never be the smartest, or the strongest, or the handsomest, or the most clever man in the world, or maybe even in Hawkins. But as Steve kissed his Eddie – his Eddie, who had travelled across time and magic to reach him – none of that mattered anymore. Because he might not have all of those things, but he did have love.

And what could possibly be more important than that?

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #steddie fanfic #steve harrington my beloved #august fanfic challenge

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