#obviously this works because it has me dragging up old wips and wanting to work on them...

[nimuetheseawitch]

WIP Wednesday!!!

🪓🔙🍦

Oh man, I love these. They are exciting.

🪓For this I'm pulling from a WIP that I haven't worked on in months, but that I do plan on getting back to. Although apparently I haven't written the wood-chopping scene that I thought I had, so maybe I should write that, since it's in my brain. John Here's a snippet from Rodney McKay Goes to Maine:

He waits until he hears the shower start up before leaning and hitting his head a few times against the opposite wall. He’s not sure he ever wanted to see Rodney again, but now he’s here, in his cabin in the middle of nowhere in Maine, in his fucking shower. 

🔙For this, you're getting a flashback from the same WIP that I haven't touched in ages (the whole thing is mapped out and has a series of flashbacks throughout):

“Whatever possessed you to start listening to country music? I know you were subjected to the same 80s pop and rock that I was. Is it that they sing about cars?” “Well, I think it was when my wife left me, and she took the truck and the dog.” John was smirking as if it were one big joke, but Rodney noticed his hands tighten on the steering wheel. Rodney tried to break the tension, “You, Mr. football, ferris wheels, and fast cars, had a truck? What for?” John eased up on the steering wheel and drawled, “Well, the dog liked it.”

🍦I am going to interpret this as being about the cold. And like all good noir, my noir!Rodney story starts on a rainy, cold night, and we meet a tall, dark-haired stranger inappropriately dressed for the weather:

“You gotta light?” Rodney hid his startlement with a disapproving frown. He took quick stock of the man taking cover in the darkened doorway next to Teyla’s. Even with this rain, he wasn’t wearing a hat or jacket, but the shoulders of his suit were only damp, and his shock of messy black hair wasn’t slicked to his forehead as you’d expect. Teyla didn’t allow smoking in her club, which was actually one of the reasons Rodney had started drinking there, even before he’d become friends with the owner. The man must be desperate for a smoke if he was huddling out here. “Hey buddy, did you have a light, or do I have to go back inside and find my coat?” Rodney ducked his head, hiding his blush in the motion of looking through his pockets. He hadn’t realized he’d been staring.

[wangxianficrecs]

Follower Recs

~*~

Hello Mojo, hope you're doing well and that you had a good break! I wanted to signal boost the MDZS May Diaspora event collection on AO3, and point out my favorite fic from there: 归心似箭 | Longing to Go Home by dragongirlG! It's both tender and bittersweet and it features such mature writing. The author got some hate for it when it initially got posted so I wanted to counter that and give it some love instead! [Who would do such a thing?!  @dragongirlg-fics I’m sorry that happened to you, and here, have *so many hugs!* I’ll try to do a thing just for the diaspora event, but meanwhile, I’ll just treat this as a follower rec.]

归心似箭 | Longing to Go Home

by dragongirlG (M, 8k, wangxian)

Summary:  The destruction of the Yin Tiger Seal does not kill Wei Wuxian; it ages him instead. He takes shelter in a cave expecting to die, but instead he lives, slowly learning to embrace life with each new day.

Thirteen years later, a young man with a Lan forehead ribbon stumbles into the cave. His name is Lan Sizhui.

~*~

Hi Momjo!!! I recently read the most *adorable* fic, and I loved it so much that it dragged me out of seclusion (read: social anxiety cave) to rec it. It's called 'Covered in Bees' by ScarlettStorm in which the Cloud Recesses is an apiary, and Wei Wuxian has suddenly found himself host to a swarm of bees. ~ @akyra-talanoa

Covered in Bees

by ScarlettStorm (T, 8k, wangxian)

Summary: “Cloud Reccesses Apiary,” says a toneless, deep masculine voice, with zero question in it. Wei Ying doesn’t care, because whoever possesses that voice is probably going to come save him from bees like a fucking hero while wearing like, a suit of armor. That’s what you wear to catch bees, right?

“I have like, so many bees outside my front door right now,” he says, mouth running out ahead of him before he can even begin to think about reining it in. “It’s like a sandstorm of bees out there. There are so many bees. I got out of my car and there were just bees and I don’t want these bees. Do you want these bees? Please tell me you will come get these bees. I can’t leave my house and I have enough food for maybe a week but then I’m gonna have to learn how to cook dry beans and no one wants that, especially not me.” Wei Ying runs out of air, takes a breath, and belatedly adds, “My name is Wei Ying. Hi.”

Or: The beekeeping AU that no one asked for.

~*~

Hi, you are a bless to this fandom. Your blog feels like a library, so thoroughly arranged and always within hand reach. [Thank you, wow!]  Recently, I was going through Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn is a Wēn tag and came across a fanfic, it has 3 chapters till now and is so intriguing that i thought to recommend it to you. I don't know if I can recommend or if you have already checked the story, The legendary Phoenix and his Dragon by Devipriya. I am in love with this story. I hope you will enjoy it too, do check it out

The legendary Phoenix and his Dragon

by Devipriya (T, 7k, wangxian)

Summary:  Wen Wuxian, the essence of who he is, he is a naughty child, a prankster, an enchanting dizi player, a graceful dancer, an irresistible lover, a truly valiant warrior, a ruthless vanquisher of his foes, a man who left a broken heart in every home, an astute statesman and kingmaker, a thorough gentleman, a righteous individual of the highest order, and the most colorful incarnation.

He has been seen, perceived, understood and experienced in many different ways by different people. Different people saw different facets of who he is. For some, he is God. For some, he is a crook. For some, he is a lover. For some, he is a fighter. He is so many things.

But the phoenix, seen from the eyes of time was just a playful man. A man who plays with his awareness, with his imagination, with his memory, with his life, with his death. An individual who does not just dance with somebody. He dances with life. He dances with his enemy, He dances with the one he loves, He dances even at the moment of his death.

To taste an essence of who is Wen Wuxian, be with me in the journey of exploration, NO! playful exploration of life of a playful man.

~*~

Hi! Thanks for running this blog, it's helped me find so many fics. For your next follower recs post, I wanted to rec "This love like a flood, a fire, a fear" by natcat5. Its summary is vague (which I suspect is why it isn't better known) but it is a beautiful retelling of canon from LWJ's POV with slight canon divergence. I love the author's characterization of him and the prose is gorgeous. It is easily my favorite fic in the entire fandom, and I don't say that lightly. ~ @nyanja14

This love like a flood, a fire, a fear

by natcat5 (M, 57k, wangxian, lan wangji & lan xichen)

Summary:  “I will love you as misfortune loves orphans, as fire loves innocence, and as justice loves to sit and watch everything go wrong.”   - Lemony Snicket

~*~

i came to this ask to rec this baseball one called "Waiting for Spring" by thievinghippo on ao3. It somehow made me care about baseball soooo 'nough said ~ @scifikimmi

Waiting for Spring

by thievinghippo (E, 131, wangxian)

Summary:  “It is a well-known fact across the major leagues that one does not smack Lan Wangji’s ass.”

Wei Wuxian rolls his eyes. Everyone smacks everyone’s ass in baseball. It’s how the game is played. Lan Wangji does not get to be exempt from this most sacred of baseball traditions.

Wei Wuxian will make sure of that.

Or, a Major League Baseball AU

~*~

hi mojo! i wanted to rec Something Good by boxoftheskyking (a loose sound of music/canon divergence au) and also MDZS: The Golden Engine by iffervescent (immortal wangxian modern au where they gotta solve a mystery and save china, featuring jiang cheng/lan xichen)

Something Good

by boxoftheskyking (T, 43k, wangxian)

Summary:  "That Wei Wuxian, you know he used to be such a promising cultivator. Head Disciple of the Jiang Clan, can you believe it? You see, juniors, the punishment for traveling the path of demonic cultivation. No golden core, not so much as a whisper of spiritual power."

As a punishment for real and imagined crimes, Wei Wuxian is sentenced to work at Cloud Recesses as the lowest of servants. When a surprising reassignment lands him with eleven children to care for, everything changes again.

A Sound of Music AU

MDZS: The Golden Engine

by iffervescent (E, 82k, wangxian, xicheng)

Summary:  In the modern era, immortals Lan Zhan and Wei Wuxian return to Gusu. New evil and old friends + new friends and old evils.

~*~

Hi Mojo! First of all let me just tell you that you are amazing and this blog is like a gift from the gods! Bless you and your endless patience and hard work. [Oh, thank you so much!]  I know that you have just accepted follower recs and I have missed miserably but I still wanted to write and bring attention to a writer by the pseudo Xiao_Hua on ao3, I think they are quite good and I just recently found the account with so much content. If you do have the time to check them out, I'd rec catfish, my fox or the red ribbon.

The Red Ribbon

by Xiao_Hua (M, 21k, wangxian, TGCF crossover)

Summary:  Wei WuXian died but not before saving HanGuang-Jun and A-Yuan, leaving so much more behind than just his ribbon.

My Fox

by Xiao_Hua (E, 13k, wangxian)

Summary:  Once he headed to YiLing that all changed for him. His priorities have been mingled with and ordered in complete disarray even without him noticing as he was left heavily influenced by a creature.

Or one where Lan WangJi is a dragon-spirit and he finds his mate in the form of a fox.

Catfish

by Xiao_Hua (E, 15k, wangxian)

Summary:  Wei WuXian has a common sense that believes it has a nine-to-five job while Lan WangJi finds that incredibly hot.

Or one where two catfish realise that neither of them truly catfished.

~*~

Hi Mojo i'm recommending this amazing fic it is called song of joys and regrets. it's a time travel AU it's amazing. And your Blog is a Godsend Thank you! [Aw, you’re so sweet!]  ~ @highgoddess

Song of Joy and Regrets

by HelloKitten (not rated, 59k, wangxian, WIP)

Summary:  The Archery competition at Qishan this year has hit a snag. As the Sects face the wrongs perpetrated by their future selves, Wei Wuxian finds himself adopted by half of the cultivation world who are determined to save him from himself.

Baby Wangxian suffers. Adult Wangxian's job here is done.

"I'm starting to see a pattern to all his plans..." "Do they all involve him being bait?" "Yes" came deadpanned responses.

~*~

Here’s a 2021 Reverse Big Bang entry, in time for Father’s Day; [Oops, my bad, sorry!]  Under a Blanket of Black Wings, by ChaoticAndrogynous (#31398395); LWJ, recuperating from the 33 lashes, tells A-Yuan a series of fairytales about a heroic monster and the brave little boy he befriended. Vampire! WWX (in the framing story as well as the story-within-the-story); happy ending.

Under a Blanket of Black Wings

by ChaoticAndrogynous (T, 19k, wangxian)

Summary:  Lan Wangji tells A-Yuan a bedtime story about a beautiful monster and the brave little boy who was his friend. Thirteen years later, the monster returns.

~*~

Hello Mojo! Have you read ‘Key Differences’ by Pupeez4eva? Its a MDZS!WWX meets CQL!WWX and its really good! [It’s on my list!]

Key Differences

by pupeez4eva (T, 6k, wangxian)

Summary:  “I don’t understand,” Wei Wuxian said, while his alternate self continued to stare at him with almost a look of hurt in his eyes. There was longing in there too, which Wei Wuxian would have easily recognised if he paid enough attention. “How could you not get together, after everything. What even went on in the Guanyin Temple if you didn’t confess?”

“The Guanyin Temple,” Wei Ying repeated incredulously. “You’re asking me if I confessed at — honestly, a lot went on that day. It was a life and death situation. There was no confessing.”

Wei Wuxian stared at him, appalled.

(Wherein Wei Wuxian ends up meeting an alternate version of himself who, much to his horror, never married Lan Wangji. Obviously he has to do something to fix this).

~*~

Hey Mojo i would recommend this fanfic if you already haven’t, it’s called “ take me back to a time “ by DizziDreams. It’s sooooo good

take me back to a time

by DizziDreams (T, 144k, wangxian, 3zun)

Summary:  Wei Ying has a lot on his plate right now.

It’s finals week -- which isn’t so bad. He’s never had to study much to do well in classes. But that just means that things are that much more tense with Jiang Cheng, who, as far as Wei Ying can tell, only takes study breaks long enough to glare at Wei Ying where he sits on the couch playing video games.

It’s not studies that have Wei Ying stressed out. It’s everything else. It’s the recruitment for the research trial he’s coordinating. It’s jiejie and her impending marriage to His Royal Douchebag Jin Zixuan. It’s the volunteer work at the palliative care facility. It’s Wen Ning’s worsening condition. It’s Wen Qing working herself thin to care for her brother and Wen Yuan. It’s the way Wen Yuan never seems to have enough food.

So, yeah. There’s enough on Wei Ying’s plate already, meaning it’s not entirely welcome when he comes home and finds a man standing in his bedroom. A man in extravagant white robes, a ribbon tied around his forehead, long hair gathered into a topknot, fist clutching a sword at his side, who asks him, “Where am I?”

~*~

Idk if this has already been rec’d (I’ve been off the grid for a while now), but there’s this absolutely incredible fic called Restitution by an anon on ao3 people should definitely check out!

this one?

on restitution

by Anonymous (M, 78k, wangxian, jin ling & wei wuxian, lan sizhui & wei wuxian, WIP)

Summary:  When Wei Wuxian regains consciousness, he is in a bed. A real, proper bed, not the slab he called a bed in his cave in the Burial Mounds.

Jiang Cheng is glowering above him.

Wei Wuxian doesn't die during the siege of the Burial Mounds. Rather, he is captured in secret and confined at Lotus Pier. Things change accordingly.

~*~

Hi momjo! I feel like every time I come to your blog there's twenty more new and amazing fics for me to read. Thank you for everything you do for this fandom!  [Thank you, sweetie!  And yes, I think there ARE 20 new fics every day out there in the fandom.  It’s amazing!] Today I come bearing my own rec to you. I've recently read this and it's IMO one of the best fics out there. It's called Lapsteel by carriecmoney and it's a modern stormchaser AU featuring country songs and coming home. ~ @manaika-chan​

Lapsteel

by carriecmoney (T, 42k, wangxian)

Summary:  Now and then, I think about you now and then...

It's been thirteen years since Wei Ying ran for the prairies, leaving behind a family in shambles and a secret on the Pacific wind. What happens when the storm he swirled catches up to him?

Modern AU with country music star Lan Zhan, stormchaser Wei Ying, and shared crossroads.

~*~

[jellyfishloveletterghosts]

as someone who was suuuper into the teen wolf fandom……i’d like to know more about you’re necks and throats whip 👀

Necks and Throats from my wip list

Thank you anon, @listlessladylister and @bisexual-cupcake for the ask about this one🐺🧚‍♂️💜

I was also super into it, I literally finished one of my Necks and Throat fics for that Fandom like 2 months ago, so I'm still into it but Stranger Things has  my main focus these days. It's a very typical Necks and throat + soul mates plot lol. 

Steve gets disowned by his father while his siren mother is away and out of contact. She's been singing him into submission for years but this time she isn't there when the thrall breaks and he finally goes through with it. Steve has known for years that it was only a matter of time, he isn't actually related to the man, something he's been reminded of time and time again but he was hoping he'd be done with college before it came to this.

So half siren half fae Steve needing to come up with cash fast if he wants to finish college, he already gave up his apartment and is crashing on Carol’s couch. Working two shitty jobs but he can't keep that up when the semester starts not if he wants to pass anyways.  Nancy is the one who comes up with the idea, showing up with a magazine clipping for supernatural models wanted. So that's how Steve finds himself with Carol in tow at a photo shoot a few days later. 

Steve and Carol get separated when she decides to hit on Robin, leaving Steve to fend for himself in the wardrobe department where he runs into an old friend. Tommy who saves him from the uncomfortable neck licking Heather subjects him to in an effort to figure out what his other half is. He only admitted to the siren part on his application and kept his wings and ears out of the photos. 

Billy comes in wound up from a scent in the air, tracking it all the way to the wardrobe department and getting thrown out by Tommy with some back up from Heather. Billy remains riled up until he's sitting in the scene room and Steve finally comes in, eye tracking him, heart beat noticeably speed. 

Steve feels the pull even if he doesn't understand it the moment he spits Billy it's like there is a teacher drawing him closer and he can't resist. When Billy pats his thigh Steve is already stumbling forward and right into his lap, limbs a little awkward slippers left at the edge of the carpet. It takes all of his will power to concentrate on the director trying to instruct them, something that becomes harder and harder the longer they are here, especially with Billy not listening dragging claw tipped fingers up his thighs, scraping sharp teeth against his collar bone making him shudder. 

Just Billy with his teeth against Steve pulse posing for the camera while Steve trembles, scales out after someone squirms him with a water bottle and he' rock hard because Billy keeps stroking every bit of him with the tips of his claws and rutting just own tented pants against Steve’s ass. Steve tries desperately not to cum wet patch in the front of his boxers as Billy licks over the scales on his neck, drags his teeth over them, eyes flaring red as he tries to keep his control, something that's becoming harder and harder with each passing moment as Steve’s scent gets better and better. 

Obviously as soon as they get done with the shoot they're going to bone. Not sure if they're going to make it out of the building or stink up the wardrobe department in their eagerness. One thing is for sure Steve isn't going home with Carol tonight.

Ask Me

[splendentgoddess]

Strangest thing just happened

So I had a private message from an Inuyasha fanart account I don’t follow, asking me (politely enough) to DELETE a reblog I did of their post, with no further information. 

I sent a slew of replies none of which got a response probably because they just aren’t online right now, so I was more or less talking to myself in the DM box as I asked them what the post was and said how that was a strange request but I would try to honor it, as I proceeded to look for the post when I had no idea what I was looking for.

Because my brainpower isn’t the best I initially went about it the stupid way, LOL, and just started scrolling through my own blog looking for their user name, which I didn’t immediately see even after going back three days, when I had assumed my reblog was probably just from last night, or ya know, more recent given they had just messaged me either last night or this morning.

Well long story long (ha) I finally got smart and looked at their blog page, in the hopes of finding the artwork in question (thank goodness I always also like the artwork I reblog, and so I knew I just needed to quick-scroll looking for a red heart) and then it turned out they didn’t have many posts at all and so it was easy for me to find. It was six days old, but I scrolled down to it in my own blog and deleted my reblog as requested.

This is the kicker, though. THEY USED A FUCK-TON OF TAGS. Like “Inuyasha fanart”, “Kagome Higurashi”, etc. (It was a rough sketch of Kagome.) I was trying to figure out how I’d even seen their post in the first place if I wasn’t following them and I directly reblogged them and so not a reblog of a reblog by somebody I follow. I had assumed it must’ve been that “Based on your likes” thing, only because I had assumed well surely if this person doesn’t want their artwork seen by strangers they won’t have used TAGS...but that assumption was incorrect.

Also too, their profile headers says DO NOT REBLOG OR REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION. But like...we don’t see profile headers when posts just appear on our dash? Unless we scroll over the user name, but I’m not checking everyone’s profiles prior to reblogging to make sure their profile header doesn’t say NO REBLOGS, hahaha. I mean, WTF?! No reposts, sure yes, duh, because that removes the OP, but this is my first real life encounter in the wild of that phenomenon where newbies apparently think reblogs are reposts. People (rightly) make fun of Twitter migrants for not getting how Tumblr works, and I was one of them...for like a day, but honestly, Tumblr is not that hard to figure out! And even I could understand that reblogs were like retweets and thus you’re just sharing somebody else’s original post, and everyone can see who the OP is. That’s obviously not the same thing as stealing artwork to repost it yourself. And if it’s just a silly unfinished WIP you only want to show your few followers, who know not to reblog it, uh...don’t use tags? 

So anyway, I won’t name names because I don’t want to drag the user, but just a heads-up, if you happen to come across a rough B&W computer sketch WIP of Kagome in various stages of doneness, that admits it’s a rough sketch and is not finished yet, DO NOT reblog it. 

[staysaneathome]

The Lonely Boy

(A second part to the Entity-swap WIP, where the swap is the places the Entities hold in the world rather than the people who serve them) Jon is cold, and tired, and hungry.

But he’d rather be all of those things than back in The Collection.

He stays away from libraries, from universities and schools, from police stations and research institutes, from everywhere that has learning and investigating and knowing. They call to him, sing to his mind with the promise of knowledge and answers, and that’s how he knows they’ll betray him.

That’s where the man found him the first time, after all.

He compromises with large bookstores and cafes, places of learning that have become diluted over the years with the need to turn a profit, making them safer for him while still making the pouding, watching thing in his head go quieter. Plus the staff usually derive more satisfaction from letting him sleep outside of their places of work and sneaking him food and water on the sly than in turning him over to the management that treats them so poorly.

He learns quickly that he’s in London, capital city of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland.

It’s something of a blessing to be left in a city this size.

That when he gives in and guiltily Asks someone the Right Question to satisfy his cravings for stories, he can disappear back into the crowd much more easily than he could back in Bournemouth, or in some of the tiny villages down south or up north The Collection passed through.

Nobody really looks twice at another kid left alone and homeless in this place.

He learns quickly that he’s not alone here.

He goes into the house because it’s pouring and he’s soaked to the skin. It takes him far longer than it should to realize that the wet schlurp schlurp schlurp noise is coming from the inside rather than outside.

The Hive wears a red dress and smiles at him when he screams at the sight of her.  But she stops smiling very quickly once he Asks, “Where did you first hear the Song?”

She tells him, each word torn from her lips, exposing her essence to him, filling in a way none of his other meals have been before. He’s so transfixed, he doesn’t notice her attempt to bring him down with her. He’s lucky, really, that the silver worms could only get to his leg before she collapsed, unmoving and pale, and that there were so many sharp things left around the discarded house.

He’s more careful after that, limping on the leg that the Watcher told him how to bandage properly.

Not long after his first ill-fated encounter with servants of other fears, he finds another one.

Jon’s looking for a place to spend the day so nosy people like irritable old people and police officers won’t ask him why he’s not in school. It’s most difficult to do now it’s late autumn, when most other children are safely sequestered away in various schools. Luckily London has a tendency to attract school field trips, so if Jon just hovers around the edges, most people assume he’s part of that other, larger group of screaming children even if he isn’t in uniform and are more likely to overlook him that way. He’s just found one such group in a large park that he can use as protective coloration, content to much on the contents of an unopened packet of prawn cocktail crisps someone threw away as the kids on this school trip gorge themselves from colorful lunchboxes and chase each other around the playground they’re too old for.

It’s then that he spots him.

There’s a boy in the playground.  He’s round and soft-looking and see-through, wearing the same uniform as the others. He’s picking at the splinters on the balance beams he’s sitting on. Thin fog wisps around his ankles.

His eyes are very large and liquid as his head suddenly whips around and he stares up at Jon, blink-blink-blinking like he’s gazing at the sun.

He’s obviously a servant of the Forsaken, but unlike the Hive he doesn’t seem like he’s about to hurt Jon for seeing him. He’s still feeling full from the stories he pulled from a man who stank of alcohol last night, so he’ll hold off on Asking anything for now. He tentatively nods his head to the soft-looking boy. “Hello,” He mutters through a mouthful of crisps.

“You’re very pretty.” The boy tells Jon, almost absent-mindedly. Then his mouth snaps shut and he goes ridged like he’s stuck his finger in a power socket. He’s got a bit more color to him now, like he’s been brought into focus.

Jon stares at him. Stares down at his mismash of clothing pulled from bins. Then back at the boy. “No I’m not. Are your eyes working?”

The boy sputters, high-pitched. “Wh-I-um, um? I-I, I think so?”

Jon shoves another handful of crisps into his mouth. “What’s the best animal?”

”U-uh,” The boy stutters, twisting his fingers together. “I-I don’t know? I, I like fluffy ones, like there was a nice spaniel I met earlier that made friends with me, and, and some kinds of spiders can be very cute and fluffy, did you know, like tarantulas?”

Jon doesn’t disguise his shudder. Obviously this boy has something wrong with his tastes if he thinks things like spiderscan be cute and things like Jon can be pretty. “Cats are the best animal, obviously.”

”O-oh.” The boy says timidly. “W-well, I like cats. Too. Um. Sorry. Who are you? Are you here with your parents?”

He curls in around his crisps, feeling uncomfortably small. “No. They died when I was small. I’m on my own now.”

“I-I’m sorry.” The boy gets up from the balance beam and drifts closer, fog faintly eddying around his heels. “My dad left, a while ago now. So it’s just me and my mum. But she’s not well, and I dunno what I’d do if she—if she—” He takes in a deep breath, shakes his head like a dog shaking off water, and sticks a hand out. “A-anyway. My name’s Martin. Martin Blackwood. Nice to meet you.”

Jon eyes the hand, then wipes off one of his own on his too-big, stained trousers. Martin Blackwood is warmer than he expected, but cooler than a normal human should be. Maybe the Forsaken doesn’t have as tight a grip on him yet?

”Jonathan Sims.” He recites mechanically, a little rusty with introductions. Then, desperate to break the awkward silence and cover up his discomfort, Jon does the worst possible thing he could do. He Asks a Question.

“Why is the Forsaken attached to you?”

And he stares in horror as Martin’s large, liquid eyes go soft and unfocused. “There were all these adults in for this careers day thing, at my school, like firemen and lawyers and things. And one of them was this tall ship captain, like out of a storybook. And he kept talking about his ship and how even if his crew had nobody on land, they could enjoy hard work alone out on the waves, and it felt like he kept looking at me while he said it, and—”

”Stop.” Jon clamps his hands over Martin’s mouth, pretending he doesn’t feel the Watcher’s flare of anger as Martin’s eyes come back into focus and he tenses up. “I-I’m sorry, I, I didn’t mean to, I—”

”Di-did you do that?” Martin breathes. “H-How did you do that? That was amazing, it, it was like I was right there…” He’s fully solid now, like someone has turned the colors on him all the way up. He has very nice colors.

“It’s not.” Jon mutters, sourly. “The Watcher lets me pull stories out of people, to, to feed it. Like how the Forsaken makes you go invisible—“

”I can go invisible?!” Martin all but yells, covering his mouth when several other kids look over and snicker.

”Yeah?” Jon raises an eyebrow. “It’s the entity of the fear of being alone. Didn’t you notice the fog and people ignoring you?” ”Lots of people ignore me anyway.” Martin says, far too matter-of-fact for comfort, and gaze fixated on the fog around his feet. He leans down and drags his hands through it, giggling as it swirls away from him. “It’s kinda tickly?”

Jon opens his mouth to say something, but he’s interrupted as his stomach growls loudly.

Jon looks down at where his prawn crisps fell in his rush to stop Martin and mourns. He’d been looking forward to finishing those… ”U-um. You can have half of my sandwich, if, if you want it.” Martin says, pulling a squashed, cling-wrapped object that the Watcher tells him contains cheese and bread within. “And you can tell me more about these fear things?”

They end up talking so long, Martin’s teacher has to come over to shout at him that it’s time for the school trip to leave.  She looks suspiciously at Jon, so he quickly makes himself scarce as Martin scrambles over to where all of his classmates are lines up in disorderly rows.

Jon hides behind a tree and watches Martin’s school trip leave the park.

Martin Blackwood sticks near the back of the class, even as some other kids keep pushing him every time he slows. When he spots Jon, he smiles widely, and waves his hand. Like Jon’s a friend of his, or something.

Against all logic, Jon tentatively waves back.

Martin can’t come into London often, of course. He lives too far away, up north, and he and his mum aren’t the richest people in the world, from what Jon will later gather. Train rides are a luxury that it’s pushing it to afford, and he’s got to take care of his mum into the bargain.  And it’s not like he can send Jon emails or text messages or letters, given that Jon has very limited access to electronics and no address to send post to.

But somehow, against all odds (and likely using the Forsaken more than is probably healthy), Martin does make the trip down to see Jon, always waiting for him in that playground where they first met.

And Jon gets used to dropping by the park several times a week, just in case Martin’s there.

[wastetimeandtype]

37. Talk about your current wips.

Oh dearrr. I’ll pick ten WIPs I’ve worked on recently!

1) Okay so ‘firebending’ is a WIP where Korra drags Mako to the fire sage temple she visited in book 2 to learn about firebending as healing to see if it can help his arm. Wacky miscommunication occurs, but maybe,,,, they’ll be better friends at the end of it. I’ve written the big emotional scenes but it turns out I like thinking about bending and the magic system but I don’t like writing it. Slowly making progress on these scenes. Hopefully publishable soon, likely around six short chapters.

2) ‘Family Matters’ is a fic where Wu confesses to Mako at the wedding that he likes him, Mako’s like sorry, I’m straight... but then the fic is about Mako’s internalised homophobia/biphobia throughout his childhood which conflicts with the fact he realised he does have feelings for Wu and men in general. Fun stuff! Bolin is a good bro in this. Just kind of slow going, I’ve written scenes from all eras of Mako’s life but it isn’t a coherent story yet.

3) Huan and Mako— what if Huan and Mako dated? This was meant to be crack but I wrote it seriously and picked up again recently. I think Mako x Huan is a weird opposites attract pairing.

4) Cinderella— Korra is a young witch in training to her Uncle Unalaq who is the Grand Witch. Asami is Prince Charming. Her Dad throws a ball to have her get married. It’s as stupid as it sounds, it’s something I wrote last year but haven’t quite finished it yet.

5) mako arm injury depression— Mako’s injury won’t heal like he hoped, Mako spirals whilst trying to maintain a long distance relationship with Wu. Might overhaul into a non wuko platonic krew story, but I’m also still fond of the wuko, so uhhh.

6) hui sequel— sequel to ‘five dates at Kwong’s’ that NO-ONE asked for. Basically just a combination of working through some of Mako’s issues in relationships and and his past childhood trauma whilst also having the fun concept of ‘what if someone hilariously boring and normal person dated a member of team Avatar?’ I started to write a sequel to the sequel in the same document, so, I’m invested at least. The sequel’s sequel is just Mako whump idk.

7) Schitt’s Creek Au— I love this! Literally just Wu moves into the motel of the town he owns when he loses all of his money. Mako works there. Sparks fly, eventually. Slow burn. I realise I am folding a lot of my Stardew Valley AU into this but this AU easier to write than that. More of a drama than the show it’s based on, just a lot of growth for Wu and pining for Mako, with a boat load of angst in the tv show as well.

8)Personal Assistant— Korra is a single mum who co-parents with her ex Mako, whilst also managing to get a job as Asami’s Sato’s personal assistant. This is both Korra wants to bang her hot boss whilst also having relationship drama with her ex. I wrote this because I was annoyed that single parent AU’s always have the father absent. Mako is a good Dad! Maybe just a bad boyfriend. This is an old AU that I picked up again recently.

9) Lonely Hearts— Bolin writes an (obviously anonymous) advertisement for Mako in the ‘Lonely Hearts’ (personal advertisement in the USA, but lonely hearts is funnier) column of a newspaper. Mako writes a letter of complaint to the newspaper that they need a stronger vetting process for this because he didn’t submit this. The editor of the columns responds and she is bemused. Rom com hijinks ensue. This is so weirdly specific to my tastes ahhh.

10) Makorrasami fic. Me trying to write a realistic take on pair-book 4 Makorrasami where Korrasami is already canon but Mako has lingering feelings for Korra, Mako and Asami then develop a closer bond, and Korra realised she still has feelings for Mako. It’s a big mess! Very new and only a couple hundred words in, I hope I can gain some momentum with it.

[lilydalexf]

Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with Vickie Moseley

Vickie Moseley has 252 stories at Gossamer, some of which have also made their way to AO3. She has obviously contributed a ton to the fandom over the years! I’ve recced some of my favorites of her stories here before, including Giving Thanks, Stunned, and a bunch of post-eps for particular episodes, including “Firewalker” and “Pine Bluff Variant.” Big thanks to Vickie for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

Not really. Well, actually, it has always surprised me that anyone would read my stories even during the heyday of the series, but that’s my self-consciousness talking. That people are discovering The X-Files is not at all surprising and that they are stumbling on fan fic is a natural extension and I find that wonderful. My husband and I never watched Grimm when it was on network TV and we’re currently going through that series, so it’s the streaming-on-demand-there-isn’t-anything-new-on-TV times we find ourselves.

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

Friendships. I have a group of women that I’ve been friends with for over 20 years. Until this year we gathered in person every year. We are in contact on Facebook messenger all the time and a conversation will start up just out of thin air when we haven’t conversed for months! It’s been wonderful knowing these women from all parts of the country (and the world for that matter).

And strangely enough, medical research. My writing tended to focus on ‘injured Mulder’ (or Mulder Torture as we termed it) and I also liked reading that in fan fic. Two years ago this managed to help me in real life. My husband experienced a bilateral pneumothorax (both lungs collapsed spontaneously). One of my favorite stories that I have read and reread is “Short of Breath” by the incomparable dee_ayy. She did some serious research while writing that story and it’s all in that fan fiction. I’m not saying it’s the same as a medical degree, but I knew what was happening, why the doctors where performing certain procedures and it really eased my mind as we went through the whole experience. I never would have known what was going on if I hadn’t read that story so many times.

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

Email was the ‘social media’ for the day. That, and newsfeeds. There were two newsfeeds in the beginning: the official FOX website had a message board, and there was one on ‘alt.tv’ which was an internet newsfeed where fans posted spoilers and discussed episodes. The alt.tv newsfeed got tired of the fan fic writers posting stories so a separate newsfeed was formed just for fan fic. EMXC, which was an AOL mailing list, was invite only and somewhat exclusive at first, but opened up to everyone. When the old OSU (Ohio State University) mailing list turned into Gossamer and Ephemeral, the fandom, and fan fic just skyrocketed.

But what you lived for the most, as a writer, was actual feedback. Emails from people all over who read your story. It was nice to get a quick ‘Hey, read this and really like it!’ but the wonderful emails, the ones you kept in folders on your inbox, were the ones that went into detail, sometimes critical, sometimes grammar related, but always showing where you could improve, or where you touched someone. Every friend I have from the fandom started as feedback, either to me or from me. I’m on AO3 and I appreciate ‘kudos’ but I really love getting comments.

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

Confidence in my writing. I learned a lot from other writers. Constructive feedback was a gift! I may never write the great American novel but I don’t think I’m afraid to give it a shot after all my years in fan fic.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

They had me at ‘aliens’. I’m a sucker for UFO shows. Was front row center at Close Encounters of the Third Kind, read many of the UFO standards, still watch Ancient Aliens on History Channel. I was waiting for The X-Files based on the tiny blurb in the 1993 Fall Preview Guide from TV Guide.

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

I kinda got fired from a job I loved and couldn’t go back into that arena for a long time. I was so depressed I was cleaning out my kitchen cabinets. My husband ‘gave’ me the internet for my birthday just to get me out of the dumps. I went straight to ‘yahoo’ and typed in X Files. After reading all the character bios I saw a ‘hyperlink’ (yes, that’s what we called them in 1995) to something called ‘fan fiction’. It was the OSU tree directory of about 100 fan fiction stories. I was instantly hooked.

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

I still love the show and all the fans I run across. I was not happy with S8 or S9 but I did watch The Truth. I was on Haven for a while during the reboots (S10 and S11) but it wasn’t the same. I’ve got all the seasons on DVD or blu ray and both movies. When I hear from fans, I’m so happy to connect but I don’t go out and look for new stories anymore.

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

None. My heart belongs to Mulder ;)

Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?

Captain Kirk, Spock, Captain Picard, Will Riker, Luke, Han, Leia, Poe, Rae, Kylo at the end. I like strong characters but it’s OK if they have flaws. I’d like to see more strong female leads in science fiction (Gammora and Nebula are favs of mine, too). I love Brea Larson’s portrayal of Captain Marvel!  

Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

Sure. When the Pandemic hit we started going through the series for maybe the 20th time. It’s nice to watch them on a larger TV screen. Kim Manners was a genius with lighting and showing just enough of the ‘monster’. I suspect he will be better appreciated in the future than he was at the time he was alive.

Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom?

I still go back and read my favorites from XF. I read Blood Ties by Dawn about once a year, the whole series. I go back and read the Virtual Season X seasons. We had some really good stories in those years.

Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors?

Too many to list! Dawn, of course. Susan Proto (I co-wrote with her), Sally Bahnsen, dee_ayy, Suzanne Bickerstaff’s Magician Series was the first (and only) fantasy I ever truly liked! I loved all my co-writers and there are plenty of writers that I wish we’d gotten around to collaborating.

What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

I’m proud of Out of the Cold because it’s Mulder before Scully. I’m partial to the Flight Into Egypt series because I like ‘righting’ what I thought Carter got wrong in the end.

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

I keep trying! I’m working (have been working for almost a decade now) on a Flight Into Egypt story set at Christmas. Each fall I drag it out of mothballs, write a paragraph or two and get busy doing Christmas stuff. Funny, but it was easier to find time to write when I was a working mom of 6 than as a retired grandma of 3.

Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

I’m putting together a cookbook for my kids and grandkids of all our family recipes. It’s not just the recipes, but the stories behind them. It’s a WIP (work in progress).

Where do you get ideas for stories?

I had a book, just a cheap paperback of unexplained events—all true stories, supposedly—that I got a lot of ideas from. Or, like Carter, I would see something in the news and it would turn into a story. One time I had a dream about our Pur water filter and it turned into a fan fic.

What's the story behind your pen name?

My older sister named me because my Mom and Dad let her. I never used a pen name. That’s my real name, you can google me and find out all about me. I used to have a wiki page or so my kids told me.

Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

My kids used to tell their friends that ‘Mom is famous on the internet’ as a joke. Most of my friends know. My other life is in politics and the two lives usually don’t cross but once on a campaign I was asked by a reporter if I was the ‘same’ Vickie Moseley who writes fan fiction. If I had lied, that would have been the story—that I lied about this hobby of mine. Like it was something to be ashamed of or I was ashamed of my writing. So instead of ducking the question I said ‘yeah, have you read any of my stuff?’ Fan fiction was not mentioned in the finished article.

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

I’m on AO3 but only a partial list. My website is still up thanks to Mimic.

Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files fic?

Back when I started writing (1995) it was a sort of commune. We all loved reading fan fiction, we didn’t want the story to end with the credits. So if you wanted to read, you were encouraged to write, too, so that others had stories to read and share. It was a cooperative arrangement very much like the old Literary Societies back in the 19th Century.  I really miss that, so I hope that on some level that is still going on.

(Posted by Lilydale on November 10, 2020)

[evakuality]

I know, I know you already have enough wips but I have a tiny little prompt. No hurry though!! I love the way you write cuddling. It's always so soft, warm, lovely, realistic. In the show we never actually got David being the big spoon. Could you imagine writing something about that. Just David needing to hold his sweetheart. Matteo needing to be hold.

Anon, I know it’s been a long time since you sent this in but here it is: a little ficlet of David needing to hold Matteo.

Cosiness is next to sleepiness

It’s not even that late when David stumbles into Matteo’s room, but darkness has shrouded the whole place in an eerie dimness broken only by the small glow of a lamp on Matteo’s desk.  The heavy curtains are closed tight against the windows emphasising the gloom.  Blinking, David can make out a hunched shape bent low over the desk.  

He smiles.

Matteo’s mouth is propped open, his head heavy on one arm that’s lying on his notes, and his eyes fluttering.  The light shines on his lips making them shine in the soft glow.  He looks so close to sleep that he hasn’t even bothered to move the textbook from under his cheek.  Giving himself a moment to adjust to the sudden difference in light in this room, David drinks in the sight.

It’s been a long, hard day.  He’s on edge, restless in some ways.  Desperate for some comfort, David had come here.  Matteo never fails to coil something comfortable in David’s belly, something which says home.  Or safety.  But today it also drags something primally protective into his chest.  He studies too hard, Matteo, and David wishes he could convince him to lay off a little.  It’s ironic, given his reluctance when he was still at school, but now that he’s doing something he really cares about he works himself too hard.

Making his way over to the desk, David reaches one hand out to push the hair back off Matteo’s forehead.  “Matteo?” he whispers.  “You need some sleep.”

“Mmmmm, no,” Matteo protests.  “Just a few more chapters and I can stop.”

David isn’t above using everything in his power to convince Matteo.  He needs to cuddle after his day, Matteo obviously needs to take a break, so David runs his fingers along Matteo's cheek in the way he knows Matteo can never resist.  The soft humming pur he gets back makes David smile more.

“I wouldn’t have thought you’d be saying no to going to bed with me,” David says, grinning at the discontented noise Matteo gives when he withdraws his fingers.

“Asshole,” Matteo mutters.  But he does slide off the chair and follow David towards the bed.

Lying down, David holds his arms out.  “Lie with me?” he asks.  “I’ve had such a day and I need to hug something.”

“Well that’s flattering,” Matteo says, slipping into his embrace, snuggling up with his back to David’s chest.  “Something could be a pillow, you know, and I could keep studying.”

He’s so warm and pliant in his arms that David almost groans at how nice it is.  He doesn’t because he’s not quite that gone, but he does tug Matteo in tighter to his body.  There’s something so nice about lying in this way, with his boyfriend pulled close against his chest and his own arms wrapped as closely around him as David can muster.  

Sometimes the days can get a bit too much for him, long hours working to earn a small bit of money while the free time he has is spent trying to get things in line to make one of the movies he’s been planning so carefully.  Sometimes all these things press in and start suffocating him, and at those times all David wants is to go back to his old ways, to running and hiding.  On those days, this always works best for him.  He gets to have the one he loves cuddled tight in his arms, gets to push his nose into the juncture where his shoulder meets his neck.  He gets to inhale Matteo’s scent, warm and cosy and grounding.  

Matteo gets it; as much as he protests about the way David sometimes pulls him away from his work, he always goes willingly enough even with the teasing that accompanies it.  He knows when they lie like this that it’s because David needs this particular comfort.  Even when Matteo doesn’t also need the comfort and the connection, or to stop and breathe for a moment, he knows when David needs this and he gives it to him willingly even through the grumbles.

Today it’s even better than usual.  Matteo clearly does need this too.  He’s so soft, so close to sleep that his body is pliant and relaxed, molding itself to David’s, his fingers tangled in David’s just by his heart.  David can feel the slow, steady beat of that heart against the back of his hand and he smiles, already feeling less anxious, less stressed about his day.  Matteo’s breath is soft and even, so close to drifting into sleep, that David relaxes alongside him, lulled into drowsiness by his gentle breaths.

He brushes his lips over the back of Matteo's neck, feels the way that sensitive skin shivers under his touch, and smiles again.  His heart lightens as he hears Matteo's sleepy murmurs.  His voice is so low and soporific that David is hard pressed to make out any words, but he does decipher ‘love’ and he feels his own body relaxing even further as he whispers it back.  

By rights, it’s too early for them to go to sleep for the night.  By rights, they should change into sleepwear and do this sensibly.  But David needs this, needs to be wrapped around this boy, protecting him while soaking in his strength.  So he lets Matteo drift into sleep, buries his nose back into that soft skin of his neck, and follows him into dreams.

[lambourngb]

Get me out of here - places to go when canon is complicated

It’s Day 3, time to celebrate those stories that I turn to when I can’t deal with canon, or when I don’t have the emotional energy to untangle all the emotions I have for what’s going on in canon. Alternative universes, the safe harbor for us. Below are a mix of rewrites of canon, remixes of canon, or out right not even set in Roswell- to fill every type distance you want from canon- from near to far.

The first story I’m reccing is a long one,- so pardon the very long review below.

my love is a life taker by @jocarthage (267,600) So one day, Jessi popped into discord to share a dream she had about timetravel and being able to save yourself in the past basically, particularly Alex getting to give his baby-self a hug, and we all went, “holy shit that’s a cool fic idea please write it!” and really reality sucks right now with quarantine and whatnot, so what better thing to do than follow a WIP? I can’t tell you how badly I needed to something to look forward to as I was staring down a milestone birthday with all my plans in tatters, and this story filled the void.

Okay- now about the actual story itself, the world building about time travel in this is incredible but easy to absorb. Jessi dumps you straight into the action in chapter 1 with Alex, at 28, assassinating an Iraqi intelligence agent in 2009 that averts a bomb that was planned on US forces. You learn so much about both the story-universe and Alex here- one, that even dressed in mask and killing someone, Alex is kind and uses morphine as an overdose and has arranged for his victim’s family to be compensated, you learn that time agents can only visit places they themselves have visited during that time, and Jesse Manes had dragged his son, who was ‘time aware’ to every place of war and ruin on the planet before he was 18 and that, Alex’s victim, even as he’s dying, recognizes what a shit childhood Alex had but that Alex doesn’t.

The next part is where Alex’s time crystal malfunctions, instead of returning him to 2018, it takes him to 1998 where an 8 year old Michael is getting beaten by his foster dad and Alex, out of his time line mysteriously, visible to only Michael, saves him, but only temporarily. We all know with abusers, until you’re out of the house, it’s just a matter of time before the next beating. However, with one act, Alex at 28 starts putting into action (even though he doesn’t recognize it at the time) the steps to save his own life as he works to save Michael from his childhood. Each mission, each jump through time, Alex meets Michael, always a year apart and only for 1000 seconds, or almost 17 minutes. Jessi takes you through some of the darkest points of US foreign policy, only as Alex takes control of his life, he also starts to change the missions, and change the world. The details of places, people, food, etc are authentic from the author’s experience, if you don’t click on the links at the end of the chapters and disappear down google-rabbit holes about the events in history, well- you’re made of stronger stuff than I am.  There are lots of heavy subjects discussed, but there’s always care and honesty behind the intent. The way Michael grows, the way Alex grows, and of course the journey to the present time when they could be together? It’s like pining on steroids but it’s so wonderful. I wish I could pull out one thing that I loved in particular in this story- but it’s impossible, only to say that I love that I could disappear completely within the confines of ‘my love is a life taker’ knowing that I would be kept safe by the author, that goodness prevails.


when I’m oceans away by @neapeaikea (28,000) this is a post-2008 shed canon-divergent AU where Alex Manes, after the best/worst night of his life bolts from Roswell and leaves Michael behind. 10 years later, on the hunt for a child conceived at Caulfield, Michael walks into a youth home in California and finds Alex. A few things, I love that this author writes an Alex who didn’t join the Air Force but still lost a leg, I don’t really enjoy disability erasure in modern AUs (I’m better at looking past that in historical or sci fi aus) . It’s pretty clear after five minutes that the connection between the two men is still there and strong despite anger, secrets and guilt. The teasing and flirting between them is great but so is the acceptance of baring their vulnerabilities. I loved the care they take with each other, and the tie in to an alien child is just so perfect.

Crucibles (series) @ninswhimsy (9,000)- I’m cheating and naming both here, but obviously nin had her finger on the pulse of fandom, by writing crusade-set queer stories before The Old Guard ever boomed into a fandom from the movie. I was lucky enough to trade DMs over the ideas of holiness and the body, and how Alex would have treated himself, certain of his doomed soul, and how Michael would have responded in turn. It’s no secret I love everything Nin writes, but this series stuck in my mind. I will be drifting off to sleep, and think about Alex walking through the ancient city of Aleppo, ready to be done with his burden and Michael there with soft palms and scented oil, and boom! I reach for my kindle to re-read it.

no regrets if we walk this new road by @andrea-lyn (97,000) This author has written so many amazing AUs, some quite far away from canon events like her Mummy AU or her Avengers AU, but I have to say, I have a very soft-spot for this rewrite of season 1 for a lot of reasons. I mean, it’s 2020, so my appetite for Cop!Max is definitely at an all-time low, so the idea of exchanging his job with Kyle’s was extremely appealing. At least Kyle is a POC holding the badge, not a white man like our canon. Anyway, politics aside, this story is special to me for the scorching good Isobel/Kyle relationship that develops, the way Isobel sharpens herself into a lawyer (not an event planner) and how Michael rounds his own edges off in turn by becoming a teacher (and being secretly married).  Each deviation from canon made complete sense once you alter the way Rosa’s death affects the pod squad, and how they covered it up ripples out toward Liz, Kyle, etc. 


Layer on layer, down on down by @dotsayers (9,440) I love sci-fi tropes, especially time-loops, but they are incredibly hard to write (I know, I abandoned mine a while ago) so this story stands out because of just how well done the execution is and also the angst. Michael in a time loop about Caulfield, like how great/agonizing is that? The plot is so good, how it ties into Caulfield and why it happens in the first place, like wow.  The care, and the hurt, and the fatigue that Michael has in this story, oh you just want to wrap him in a blanket. There’s a tiny throwaway line about how one of the first things Michael learned to do in foster care was to make himself heavy and unmovable- and you instantly picture kid!Michael not wanting to be removed from a house - like my heart broke! The structure of the story, with the background of his just how much he loves Alex but how badly it hurts to see him die, really makes this study of 1x12 special. Along with all the angst, there’s tiny gallows humor lines, so am I weird, that I laughed through a couple of these scenes even as Michael kept dying?

Petty pace by @aewriting (11,600) Aewriting has a couple of stellar AUs, so trying to pick just one was difficult, but I rather feel this story is sadly underappreciated it (mind the tags). It was a remix of @iwontbeyourmedicine ‘s fantastic ‘Freaky Friday’, where the humans and aliens swap roles. Alex in the role of Michael basically was something I had never pictured until Ly wrote that story, and now feel utterly changed by it, especially with this backstory- the idea of Jesse Manes bringing a foster child home? Incredibly well done because there’s an off the charts level of menace in this story. The way Jesse watches Alex, who at first mistakes it for how a pedophile might size up a victim, but then catches on quickly that it’s so much worse in a lot of ways. And Alex is such a loner in the beginning, even as he reconnects with his pod siblings Liz and Maria, he’s still planning on keeping his head down and leaving Roswell far behind. Like freedom is literally the only thing he can conceive of for himself, no real dreams outside of that until Michael slips under his defenses. I probably could have saved this story for angst day- because the second half of the story, if you don’t sob while you read it, then I dunno. It’s helpful to read Ly’s story right afterward as a reminder that things do get better for Alex ten years later. In a lot of ways this story is sadder than canon (though there’s no murder of Rosa/4th alien), I’m comforted that at least Alex has Liz in the aftermath, alike in heartache in a way that Michael didn’t have because of the pact he and Max made about Isobel in canon.

Unexpected tidings by @bestillmyslashyheart (24,800) Another rewrite of canon, that explores a couple of very interesting questions, like what would it look like if Michael never made it back to Roswell as a kid but met Alex by chance in 2008? Imagine the cornerstone of the Lost Decade love affair revolving around the mundane questions of a long distance relationship that wasn’t built on the pain of the shed or Rosa’s death? Marlo writes an amazing take on this, that is both real and deep with the normal couple problems, before introducing that spanner in the works of oh yeah, aliens are real. With Michael on the east coast, and Alex finishing off his service in Roswell, Project Shepherd still entangles Alex with Liz bringing him in on the secret in hopes that with his hacker skills he can track down the third alien child that Max and Iz remember so they can warn him. As interesting as the current plot was, I found myself absolutely revitted the slow piecemeal reveals that Marlo doled out about Alex and Michael’s relationship over time. (I also while rereading this recently got very nostaglic for season 1 Alex who didn’t trust Jesse as far as he could toss him.) 

Don’t Punish Me For What I Feel by @winged-fool (3,600) Tarsus IV AU - another wonderful author with a catalog of great AUs, both sci-fi and dark, and honestly it was difficult to narrow it down to one. This story, well in 2009 I was a hard core Trek movie fan, so when I saw a trek-fusion story appear, I knew I would love it just on that basis. The thing is, this gave me Michael as the Captain, a surprisingly rare role for these space fusions, even though genius level repeat offender Jim Kirk and genius level repeat offender Michael Guerin seems pretty married in my mind as a connection. As a Tarsus-like story, all the tags are well earned by the story that Alex finally shares with Michael. It hit on so many levels, the hurt/comfort level for sure, but also to have a story where Michael is this stalwart protector of Alex was really nice to find. 

this isn’t the ‘holiday best friends championship’ by @usbournejez (6,090) alright to leave this on a lighter note, my final AU rec is this masterpiece by Kieran that was part of Malex Secret Santa gift fics- and what a gift it was to all of us! The way she writes established Malex is first-rate, because she always includes their canon-levels of snark/sharpness but it’s never directed at each other and that’s something I love. Here we have Alex, where we learn in just a few short lines, is a huge control freak but has the extremely big emotional handicap, and that’s his love/fondness/deserve to caretake Michael. Emotional cactus Alex who is soft for Michael? Love it. There are small drops of angsty backstory peppered in this, but really that just fuels just how sweet and wonderful the main theme of the story- which is Alex might hate the whole world at large, he loves, protects and worships Michael (and vice versa). As someone who can bake cookies, but that’s about it, I was still enthralled with the baking details and this story has never failed to encourage me to eat dessert before dinner basically. 

[jumpship90]

wip whenever

cheers for the tag @damejudyhench. This (quite long) excerpt is kind of cheating because it’s actually being removed from my next chapter (and just referred to briefly by Jaq instead) but here is something from Felix’s POV as he attempts to watch a tossball match and is instead distracted by having to convince Jaq to go for it with Phineas.

I think most people have been tagged but just in case, tagging in @antoncrane @lamiahypnosia and @saltunafish

“I call shotgun on the shower!” Felix yelled, bounding up the stairs of the Unreliable two at a time.

The boss made an irritable noise but they didn’t argue and he heard the familiar sound of the captain’s chair creaking as they settled into it. They were probably going to contact the Doc anyway, he thought. They usually did whenever they returned from a mission.

They’d been on Monarch almost a week, beating back the bandits who were attacking the supply routes and delaying the rations making it out from Stellar Bay to rest of the settlements. It had been heavy going, but with the support of the Iconoclasts they had eventually cleared the route. Felix had hoped they’d have been due some sort of reward on return to the city but instead Jaq had spent several hours in meetings with Mr Nandi and Zora, and rather than hang around listening to them talk politics he had drifted over to Left Field to catch up on the tossball league. There were games on tonight he didn’t want to miss.

He stripped off rapidly and dove under the showerhead before the water had finished warming up. He shivered and puffed out his cheeks, working to scrub the marauder blood from his skin. The pressure wasn’t as good as he’d gotten used to on the Hope but it would suffice in washing out the stains and the smell of sulphur from his hair.

By the time the steam had started to rise in the bathroom and obscure the mirror, he was done and out, wrapping himself in a thread-bare towel before darting down the corridor with soggy feet. SAM would get to the puddles before Jaq was done chatting, he could still hear their voice echoing up from the cockpit, and very faintly in the background, the familiar laugh of Doc Welles.

He was glad to be back aboard the Unreliable but Felix did miss the Hope, more than he’d expected. At first he’d been disappointed when Jaq had told him he was staying behind and missing out on the adventures they were having but he’d discovered it was actually pretty good fun getting to rebuild the abandoned facility and help out with experiments. That and it was nice hanging with the younger lab techs and watching tossball with them.

Oh, shit! If he was quick he might catch the end of the Hammers game before Rangers v Backers kicked off.

Felix bounded down the hallway and into the mess, snagging a case of zero-gees from the fridge and a bag of spacer-chips. It sounded like Jaq was still finishing up their conversation so he flicked on the aetherwave and flopped down on the sofa.

It was nearing the end of the first quarter when Jaq finally emerged from their room. They dropped down beside him and Felix passed them a bottle of zero-gee that had grown lukewarm in the time it had taken them to freshen up.

“Everything ok with the Doc?”

He sure hoped so. The old man was surprisingly fun to be around, always ushering Felix over when he had a cool new chemical to show him or something really weird happened with an experiment. And Phineas never made him feel stupid, even when he had to ask for the super long science words to be explained. The Doc would get all excited and break it down for him so he could understand and Felix was starting to get a grasp on some of the processes that went on in the lab.

“Yeah, he’s fine,” Jaq replied taking a long swig on their drink. “One of the door mechanisms had jammed in the crew quarters and apparently the team of four bio-chemists he sent to fix it couldn’t figure out the wiring.”

Yeah, Felix could imagine that all too well. In his time aboard the Hope he’d discovered half those lab-coated so-called geniuses couldn’t figure out how to build a bunk or salvage the workable bits from an old air-scrubber.

Jaq snorted and took another swig. “Anyway, Phin wanted me to talk him through the electrics whilst he had the panel open. He’s fixed it now.”

“That’s good. He’ll be disappointed he missed the Hammer’s game though.”

Jaq gave him a confused look.

“Phin watches tossball? I thought he hated it,” they said, as a crunching tackle sent a chorus of cheers up from the crowd watching in the stands and Felix punched the air.

He reached for the chips and stuffed down a handful before nodding. “I’ve been teaching him the rules. He seemed real surprised how much maths is involved. I never really thought of it like that, but anyway, he’s kinda starting to get the plays. I think.”

“Huh. And he supports the Hammers?”

Felix frowned. “Well, yeah, obviously. I said he had to pick a team and he asked who your team was and I said you backed the Hammers but that was a real bad choice because their twenty-eighth back has been injured all season and they don’t have a good defensive play and – oh come on, ref!”

The replay showed the towering Rizzo’s fifth back hurling the Backers forward off the ball.

“Anyway. I did warn him but I guess it makes sense he’d pick them, to avoid rows and stuff. I mean, I could never date anyone who didn’t support the Rangers. No offense, boss.”

There was a sudden spluttering noise from beside him and when Felix finally dragged his eyes away from the aetherwave Jaq was wiping frothy suds from their mouth with a damp sleeve. They gave another cough before taking a tentative sip.

“We’re not . . . dating,” they said eventually and Felix didn’t miss the red glow to the back of their neck.

“Oh, really?” That didn’t make any sense. “But you talk over the secure transmission all the time and he’s always real happy afterward, like bobbing around the lab and humming and stuff.” Felix scratched his head and turned back to the game in time to see a two man tackle go in on a forward who’d begun a promising darting run at goal. He winced as the player hit the deck with a thud picked up clearly by the mics.

“Really?”

Jaq didn’t seem to be paying attention to the game and Felix really wanted to concentrate on it but they were being kind of weird so he nodded. “Yeah, and he talks about you all the time. It’s always, ‘Jaq did this’ and ‘Jaq said that’ and ‘Jaq’s a big hero.’”

It was kind of fun actually. Phineas always wanted to hear all the cool adventures the crew had been on and he never seemed to get tired of Felix talking about what life used to be like aboard the Unreliable. He’d always listen intently and chuckle at things or ask questions about the boss and the others. Well, mostly the boss, now he really thought about it.

“You really aren’t . . . like . . . a thing? But didn’t he stay in your bed that time?” he asked with a grimace. He liked the two of them and it was nice to think they might be happy together but he really, really didn’t want to think about them smashing asteroids. Gross.

Jaq’s neck was about as red as a landing beacon at this point and Felix decided it was best not to look in their direction.

“I told you before, the camp bed is uncomfortable,” they muttered.

Felix shrugged and went in for another handful of chips. Jaq really didn’t seem interested in the food and they’d finished their beer but were still picking at the label on the empty bottle, swilling the last of the dregs.

“So, you think . . ?

The Rangers’ forward pack were beating their way through the Wednesday zone now, repelling backs left right and centre. He fidgeted in his seat, gripping the edge of the sofa as they battered through the last defensive line on the way to the goal . . .

“You think he might be interested in me?”

Felix whooped, diving out of his seat and spraying crumbs across the floor. “What a shot!”

He punched the air, grinning with elation before dropping back onto the sofa. Jaq didn’t seem very excited about the goal.

“Sure, boss. Trust me, I’ve watched loads of serials, I know what a proper romance looks like.”

Felix drained the last of his zero-gee whilst the teams set up for the restart. If Rangers kept this up then he would be collecting his winnings from Left Field tomorrow morning before they got back to work. He was contemplating whether he might be able to afford a new souvenir jersey when a sudden thought occurred to him.

“Wait, hang on,” he said, turning to Jaq who was staring into space. “If you and the Doc weren’t busy raising profits that night then Ellie owes me 20 bits!”

[crowleyellestair]

Bonds- Emiel Regis (Part 1)

AN// I have been sitting on this for a while now. I hope y’all are in for a ride. Please let me know if you want the part two, and I know someone has requested a romantic one shot, and it is in my WIPs, so don’t fret!

Warning: A swear or two and bloo consumption 

Summary: He had come to say goodbye to his best friend and old flame, but what happens when they try to save him from being an anathema? How can they do it and still get out alive?

Masterlist

The road to the vineyard seemed to somewhat brighten his mood, though he knew it wasn’t going to be a lasting remedy. Seeing his friend Geralt had always made his day, even when they had to converse over what do to about Dettlaff. And it was all made even greater when Y/n had asked to stay at the vineyard for a while. She was an old Hanse member, and the one to accept and befriend him first. There had been something there, but after the castle, he hadn’t heard from her. She had been a sword for hire- a reformed assassin, even back in those days. Y/n only found herself in Toussaint because it was the last place she had on the continent where people weren’t trying to track her.

But for Regis, it felt like fate was trying to give him a second chance. At what? He hadn’t figured that out yet, but seeing her again brought a new life in him. Sadly, this was going to be a goodbye trip. The meeting he had been walking from were of more intelligent vampires discussing his anathema. They had told him to either assimilate, or execution. Execution by hunt was always an option as well, if he decided to run. Of course, that was what he chose, knowing he could easily outrun most. He had a fortnight to decide, so he was planning on using the time to say goodbye.

He knew he didn’t need to knock on the door, but he always had. When it swung open, he was met with Y/n’s bright eyes, face covered in dirt. When she registered who he was, a large smile formed to match her gaze.

“Emiel, what brings you by? Come in, obviously, though if you prefer to talk outside, I’d understand.” It brought a warmth to his chest, knowing he walked in on something interesting. There was always something going on with her, and he knew he was going to miss it just as much, if not more than before. Regis had learned to let go of love long ago, for loving a human is ridiculous. Their lifespan is like a blink in a higher vampire’s life.

“What could possibly push our conversation outdoors?” Under the dirt, he could see a small flush. Something he always noticed, but knew he couldn’t move towards. For his own sake. He knew it was selfish, but he didn’t know what could happen if he had to lose her while in his arms.

“I had broken my nightstand a while back, so I made a new one. I found a large split in this one, and I found a stock pile of resin, so I’m putting it in the wood and adding color. It should look like a river running through canyons when I’m done.” He couldn’t help the smile that formed due to her excitement. “The smell is atrocious, however.”

“Ah, well thank you for looking out for my nose.” She let out a soft laugh before stepping towards him and closing the door behind her. Y/n was wearing large forger’s gloves that engulfed her arms, which brought a twinge to his heart. He hadn’t really used the descriptor, but adorable seemed to be the only one that fit what he saw. She started walking and he followed, not knowing their destination, though he knew that if he had the chance- the will- he would follow her anywhere. The two walked to the green house where a small table and two chairs had been placed inside. A new installment that Regis appreciated. He knew this was her doing, and not a whim of the witcher, who had been working on the other side of the small shelter. Y/n pulled out a chair for him before plopping down on the other. He flashed a small smile before sitting.

“Are you done?” Geralt’s low grumble called. She gave a small snort and a roll of her eyes before looking to the man sitting across from her. He could feel himself swallow, not wanting to ruin the content aura around them. He had foolishly assumed that he could break the news one by one and they would be in a passive state that he couldn’t ruin. He folded his hands, placing them onto the table.

“I must inform you both of something important. I have to ask beforehand, however, that there is no other option, and it hurts me just as much you.” He watched Y/n’s smile drop, and her back straighten. She too leaned onto the table, almost reaching out to hold his hands, but refraining. Geralt popped up over the long shoots of Fool’s Parsley before walking over to the table. “I must leave Toussaint indefinitely.”

Y/n scoffed, looking unbelieving, before it dawned that he wasn’t joking. Geralt’s arms crossed over his chest before putting in his two cents.

“No.” Regis’ eyes dragged to meet his, eyebrows raised. Geralt looked right pissed, before visibly trying to calm himself. “We can help.” The vampire softy shook his head before retorting,

“My friend, did you not hear my preface?” He grunted.

“I did, but I don’t agree.” Y/n quickly interjected.

“Emiel, can you cut the act?” she asked as a last saving grace. “You surely didn’t think you could walk in here, tell us ‘I have to leave forever’ and think we wouldn’t stop the world to keep you here? I might amuse the thought that you think we don’t care about you, if you really did think you could do that.” His unbelieving gaze shot to her.

“I don’t think that-.”

“Then you must have gone lame, because we will stop at nothing to help.” Geralt gave a warning glare to the woman.

“Y/n.” His gaze went back to the other man, gaze softening. “She is right. Regis, what happened?” He sighed, leaning back in the small chair, and let his hands grip the strap of his shoulder bag.

“I have been declared anathema.” The woman all but shot out of her chair.

“Excommunicated? But you didn’t actually kill Dettlaff!” He nodded.

“Yes, but no one else knows that but us.” Y/n started to pace around, and Geralt plopped down in the open spot, arms remaining crossed. The three stayed silent for a handful of moments before y/n stopped. Her hands all but waved as she breathlessly asked,

“What exactly did they say?”

“Well, while as you know, when you were retrieving Syanna, we visited the Unseen Elder. He had spoken to them, giving me two options. Assimilate or death. I’m not fond of either, so I have decided to leave.” She scoffed yet again.

“What does ‘assimilate’ mean? ‘Cause it sounds like they’re giving you a chance to live freely.” Regis gave a curt nod before finally dropping his gaze to the ground.

“I would need to show that I started to partake once again in drinking human blood.” A small sigh left her lips before a hand came up to rub her forehead. She continued to pace.

“They would really do that?” Geralt asked, somewhat confused. Regis gave a small shrug looking to the witcher.

“I am known as abstinent throughout all intelligence. It would be a right punishment to feed on something I hold dear. And I’m sure many would like to see if I relapse.”  The men were shocked when the ex-assassin kicked an empty bucket near her. She silently picked it up, flipped it, then sat on it before resting her chin in her hands and her elbows on her knees.

“How likely are you to?” The men looked questioningly at the other before Geralt asked for clarification. “I mean, how likely are you to relapse?” A hand came off the strap of his bag to wave in the air for a moment, as if he could snatch the answer from the air.

“Slim. I’ve been a surgeon since my declaration, I should be fine. Though, I refuse to partake in such things. They would likely snatch someone from the streets, have me perform the ritual, then consume them once I was finished.” The pads of her fingertips rubbed against her lips before pursing them in thought.

“What if you brought someone?” Regis’ eye snapped to her, shaking his head.

“No.”

“I’m just suggesting-.”

“I would never subject you to that, Y/n.” She stood again, aggressively.

“Emiel, for once in your life, stop being selfless! It’s a one-time thing, right? You put on a show, and they accept you back. You wouldn’t have to run until they catch you and kill you. I’m just trying to take a page from your book, mind you, and help. Helping people who don’t want to be helped is your specialty. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to help you, Emiel.” The air in the small space was palpable. Geralt knew that what she was saying is true. After Veglefortz, she had sought revenge. She went on a roaring rampage in the vampire’s name. That was the main reason she had to disappear after so long of being a reformed killer. But the witcher also knew the love Regis had for her. Knowing that, he knew the man would never put her in danger even asking Geralt to try and keep her out of the Dettlaff situation.

But he too didn’t want to lose his friend again.

“Well, what if I-.”

“Geralt, they know you. They would never believe me. And though it would take a while, they will forget. I can easily fend off anyone who would try and come after me-.”

“I remember quite well how you were thrown against that wall like an unwanted toy.” Her tone was stern, but her gaze held immediate regret. “Why won’t you let us help? You’ve given everything- even your life to save ours. Let us save yours.” Regis was silent, and she sighed while pushing to stand once more. She turned as to not show either of them the tears that were threatening to spill. “Think on it, and come back when you get your head out of your ass.”

Geralt rested an arm on the table, and wiped the stress from his eye. They were silent once more.

“I simply wanted to come and say my goodbyes.”

“Why are you so against this? You’re a logical man. You must see the benefits.”

“There’s only one way I could ensure her safety in this ordeal, and I refuse to let that happen.”

“What could that be?”

“We’d need to form a bond.”

---- 

Y/n’s stare into the cup was a long one. He had hoped she was contemplating her decision- rethinking her selflessness. He would completely understand. He hated that they were doing this in the first place. He tried to explain later that this wasn’t a ‘simple, one-time plan’. This would last at least a century due to the changes she would have to undergo. She would be giving up her freedom to roam without the man following her every move. He knew of the love she held for him. It was re-engrained into him after Geralt had laid into him. Geralt explained how guilty he felt for confessing for the woman, but he couldn’t sit idly by when they had a solution.

Once the two were bonded, he wouldn’t be able to give her up to someone else- not that he’d ever want that to happen to begin with. However, he had already prepared himself for that news years ago. Now he was faced with living out his days with the one he loved, and who loved him in return. Still, she was younger with a sense of naivety which he felt he was exploiting somehow.

“If you-.”

“I’m just trying to psych myself up.” Her gaze flicked towards his. “You might have a knack for this, but I’m new to the whole ‘drinking blood’ scene.” Regis tried to smile, but he couldn’t find it in himself to do so.

“It seems like more than it is. I diluted it with water, assuming that it would help it go down faster.” She craned her neck so she could look into his eyes. They were sat on his bed in the cemetery, Y/n resting in his lap. Her back was pressed to his chest, and his arms were wrapped around hers.

Regis had explained to her earlier that when she consumed his blood, it would course through her, and coat itself around everything. It would merge and create hybrid blood cells to help slow her aging. It wouldn’t do anything except give her a longer life span and help fend off any sickness she would face. There was also, of course, the link it would create between them to allow the other to feel the emotions they are feeling. Until Regis completed his side, however, it would be a one way link, which he was worried about. It was just another thing he would feel guilty about. They were sitting like that though due to the pain she would face. It would be hot and searing, and Regis didn’t want her to harm herself.

There have been only two other Higher vampires known to bond with a human, and one had failed. The poor lad drank the blood of the vampire, and scratched his own flesh away to the point of no return.

“Tell me something.”

“What?”

“Anything; tell me anything. Keep my mind off of what you said I’d feel.” She brought the cup to her lips, but didn’t tip back until she heard him start.

“Have I told you that there has been a book written about me?” Y/n swallowed as fast as she could, though there was a lot to take back. When it was finished, he grabbed the cup, and paced it on the makeshift shelf next to the bed. “It wasn’t even Dandelion’s doing. I had helped a man survive a fire.” Her head rested against his shoulder, and her nose softly brushed his neck. His arms tightened around her, successfully clamping her against him. His hands laced with hers, in an attempt to comfort.

At first, he thought it somehow didn’t work until her breathing became labored and her legs started to shake. He could hear her trying to stifle groans of pain, so he continued, trying to keep her wishes.

“It’s called ‘My Night with a Vampire’. I thought it was a smut novel at first. Y/n let out a breathless laugh that turned into a groan. Her back arched away from his chest, and her head flew back. She continued to try and stifle the noises, but he could hear the agony behind them.

“You’re…saying it-it wasn’t?” Her tone was harsh and pushed threw gritted teeth. Y/n’s back slowly slumped back against him, and she quickly fell unconscious.

[captain-aralias]

More-than-six Sentence Monday

got some unexpected last minute sunday tags from @vkelleyart​ and @carryonsimoncarryonbaz​ \o/

Rules:

Writers: post (approximately) six sentences from something you’re working on. If you aren’t ready to do that, add six sentences to your WIP.

Readers: challenge yourselves to leave a six sentence comment or give a writer a six sentence prompt. (or a total of six sentences for the day)

Fans and creators alike: reblog a fandom post and add some love in the tags. Aim for 6 posts - or 6 tags. Whatever you can manage!

I tag some people who aren’t in this fandom, which i don’t think is the point. BUT... it means maybe they haven’t seen the meme, so there we are. @agapi42 @thisbluespirit @neveralarch @shipaholic

--

Great! I love talking about myself,

BUT... i literally have no works in progress. NONE. i posted the thing i was working on yesterday and i haven’t started anything else/have no idea what i will write next yet. (Give me your ideas. Can we have a kink meme or something? I love kink memes.) 

So - I will do the commenting one someone else’s thing for 6 lines instead, because that’s nice. 

And I will also give you (should you wish to read it) the original beginning from ‘Sex and Blood’, and loads of stuff I cut out of ‘The Mages Heir’ because I found the off-cuts hanging around in my docs folder, so why not? They’re yours if you want them.

Sex and Blood

This was the original beginning. Then I added Simon’s scene because... I can’t remember ... and cut most of this for a reason i DO remember, which is that I was like ‘Baz is supposed to be so sick he can’t even think. Why is he banging on about garlic?’ You’ll see I also sort of re-used some of it in the third part where Baz is in the library. 

I know fuck-all about vampires. 

To begin with, it was a matter of principle. Of pride. Finding out anything about them – about the creatures who killed my mother – was as good as admitting I was one. Which, obviously, I am – but that didn’t mean I had to think about it. (Much the same approach my father wishes I’d take to my sexuality, I expect. Being gay is bad enough – I could have the decency to repress it.)

Now, I think I’m afraid of what I might find if I looked. 

Everything I do know, I’ve found out by trial and error. By surviving. 

I know I can eat garlic. I know I can go out in the sun, although it burns me (sun-cream doesn’t help. Not even factor 40. I’ve learned that the hard way). I know I can cross water and see myself in a mirror. I know I need to drink blood regularly, but that I don’t need to take it from other people. I also know I want to – and that for some reason, the people I want to take it from most are also the people I’m most attracted to. (Or rather, from one person in particular.) So I know that sex and blood must be linked together in my brain in some horrific way that fortunately I haven’t had to fully explore yet. (Simon Snow’s disdain for me is a blessing in some ways.) 

--- 

Lots of stuff was cut from The Mage’s Heir: 

1. I switched this scene to Simon’s POV:

I let him kiss me. Then I let him take off his shirt. He sits on the edge of the bed, golden in the candlelight, and swallows as I open my mouth to show my fangs. Maybe it’s finally hit him. Either that or he knows what that swallow does to me.

“You’re sure?” I ask around a mouth of teeth, and he nods. “Bite me.”

And so I do – right where I’ve always wanted to bite him, at the base of the throat. I can tell it hurts because he stiffens and swears. His fingernails dig into my back.

Blood, incredible, warm and rich, Simony blood is filling my mouth, but I try to pull back anyway – then Simon relaxes and I have to catch him to stop him falling.

“Oh yeah,” he croons against my ear. “I knew it would be nice.”

It’s much more than that. I feel as though I’m on fire.

Gently, I lower him backwards onto the mattress, teeth still buried in his neck. My body is humming. And my erection is back - even blissed out Simon can feel it. One of his hands gropes vaguely around my crotch for a while. I rip the zip open and press his hand against me. He let me hold it there as I fuck myself rabidly against his hip and his hand.

This is from Part 2 and is about Penny bonding with Fiona over botony - but I thought that scene was going on for too long so it’s cut

I’m looking round at the plants. I think some of these are illegal in this country – things I’ve never even seen except on the internet.

“That’s moly,” Baz’s aunt says as I lean in to take a better look at something that looks like a massive snowdrop. “Useful stuff. It––”

“It repels magic,” I say.

She looks impressed. “That’s right. And it’s good for crazy people.”

“Are you’re sure it’s OK to have it in your house? Even the pollen could be dangerous.”

“Both of Bunce’s parents are on the Coven, Fiona,” Baz says pointedly.

“So were mine,” she says, unimpressed. “Anyway, I’ve obviously got a permit. Lapsed botanist,” she explains when I look quizzically at her. “But it’s good for field work.”

That makes sense, although I didn’t know there was anyone in London with all this stuff – I thought the Watford greenhouses were the best stocked, but even they don’t have moly (because it’s really dangerous). Baz never said. I’d have come ‘round earlier. Or if he’d told me his aunt was a botanist (even if she is lapsed) – it’s a really good magickal profession.

“Are we going to use any of this tonight?” I ask.

“No idea,” Fiona says.

Part 3 - this was the original opening - again, you’ll see i re-used some of it. I cut it once I realised that characters were literally saying ‘this is boring’ to each other

I wake up and it’s dark. And I’m on the floor. And I feel like complete shit.

I think about trying to sleep it off (that works sometimes), but now I know I’m on the floor it’s hard to get comfortable, so I sit up instead.

The good news is I don’t hit my head on anything. That means that Nicky didn’t probably hasn’t pulled the ceiling down, but now my head feels a lot worse because I tried moving it, and I still can’t see anything.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

I’m not really sure what happened, if I’m honest. I remember Baz telling me he had a plan, and I remember him biting me, although I’m not sure whether that was the plan or whether he just got carried away. I think I must have passed out after that. And now I’m here – alone, on the floor, in the dark.

“Baz!” I shout stupidly.

Nobody replies to that either.

I get up and walk forward until I hit a wall (not literally. I had my hands out). That’s good, though. It means I know where the wall is. I drag my hand along it until I find a corner (that’s great! This is a room with corners, I’m making progress) and along the next wall. This time there isn’t a corner, exactly – there’s an open space. And then a metal bar. After that, another bar.

That’s not so good. It feels a lot like this is a cell. I’ve never been in a cell before (though I’ve been locked up plenty of times, mostly with magic) and I can’t say I’m enjoying it now. Especially if I’m the only one here. Maybe I’m the only one they kept alive.  

“Baz?” I shout again. “Penny?” I’m really trying not to freak out. “Baz!”

“Shut up,” a girl’s voice says from somewhere I can’t see. “Some of us are trying to sleep.”

“Sorry,” I say. “I’m just trying to find my friends. Do you know if they’re all right? It’s a boy with soft black hair and a girl––”

“Don’t talk to me. I’m ignoring you,” the voice says.

“Yeah. But have you seen them?”

When the voice stays silent, I smash my hands against the bars. The bars rattle – loudly – and it makes me feel better, so I kick the nearest one and then slam my shoulder against them. I don’t really expect the bars to give, which is good, because they don’t, but I know I’m pissing off the owner of the voice, which is something.

Then I think, why not actually try and get out of here? And I begin the incantation for the Sword of Mages.

I don’t really expect it work now I’m actually trying, but it does. The hilt materialises in my hand and I feel the comforting weight of blade, even though I can’t see it. I know it’ll be as sharp as ever.

My magic must be coming back. It’s coming back to me, like the sword did, but this time it’s my magic, my real magic. I’ll be a magician again, like Baz and Penny. I just took a break for a while, like Nicky did.

This is amazing. It’s actually amazing. Even though I’m still locked in a cell, and I have no idea where Baz and Penny are, I feel like laughing. This is so great.

Neither of them has ever said it (Baz actively denies it), but I know that both them wish I still had magic. Any magic. They both love being magicians. And I know they both feel sorry for me – for what happened, for losing the thing that’s most important to them. And they worry about me.

Now they won’t have to.

And it’s kind of like I’m starting again, right back at the start of my magickal education. The incantation is not only the spell I always got right, it’s also the first spell I ever learnt.

The Mage felt I should be armed from the beginning.

“It will be a burden,” he said as I swung the sword around his office that first day. “A heavy one. But you must be able to protect yourself, Simon – I won’t always be there.”

At the time I didn’t understand what he meant about it being a burden (It was a magic sword, a sword I could pull from the air just by saying a few words).

I do now, though.

He meant things were going to try and kill me and that I was going to have to kill them first, even though I was only eleven. I didn’t really mind back then, I just felt I had no choice. I guess eleven-year-olds aren’t really ready for the big questions.

“Use the sword well and it will always come back to you, so long as you are my heir,” the Mage told me. He put his hand on my shoulder. “Use with courage and with wisdom. Be worthy of it.”

“I’ll try, sir.”

“I know you will, Simon.”

And I meant it. Obviously. But over the years I was at Watford, I used the Sword of Mages for all sorts of stuff I probably could have used a less-magical sword for. Things like spilling blood for my room at Mummer’s House or opening tins of beans. It’s just, it’s easy to get used to things. Take them for granted. And the sword seemed to be all right with it.

But if I’m getting my magic back, I can start over – do things right.

Starting with breaking out of here. That seems like a pretty just and courageous thing to do, as I have to be free if I’m going to rescue my friends and my boyfriend from goblins. Assuming they need to be rescued (which at the moment I think I have to). I can’t wait to tell them.

I feel for the lock. It’s right at the edge of the bars where they meet the wall (as you’d expect, basically) and it’s got a big, obvious key hole. It’s probably locked with magic as well as iron, but I don’t think that’ll be a problem.

I swing the sword up and down about where the lock is. It cuts in, though not all the way through.

“What are you doing?” the voice from next door says as I brace one of my feet against the bars and tug the sword free. “Are you breaking out?”

“That’s right.”

I swing the sword again, hitting the same point, even in the dark (eight years of almost constant practice paying off). The lock cracks and gives. And the door creeks open.

Light flares in the cell next to me as I walk out into the prison corridor.

There are quite a few other cells, but the others are all empty except the one next to mine. And in it is a girl, like I thought, holding a small light in her hand like Baz does. Except that her hand is green, because she’s a goblin.

I didn’t think goblins locked up other goblins (I thought they probably ate them, which I’m glad I never said to any of them as it sounds a bit racist now I think about it). This one looks about my age, and she’s as gorgeous as Agatha.

“Take me with you,” she says.

“I thought you were trying to sleep,” I say.  

“That’s when I thought you were just a prisoner reciting the traditional first-night dialogue,” she says. “You know, where am I? Where are my friends? I’ve heard it all before.”

“But people don’t usually escape.”

“Not usually,” she says. “Because there’s a really good alarm system down here. That’s why we have to be–– Bloody Cap.”

Somewhere behind the door to this prison someone is running along a corridor – fairly fast by the sound of it, in heavy shoes.

“Forget I said anything,” the goblin girl says, extinguishing her light. “I didn’t speak to you. I’m asleep.”

I raise my sword to a fighting stance. “I think it’s just one person.”

Or I suppose, one person making a lot of noise and several other people who are aren’t. But they’ll all have to come through one door, so I should be able to take them all.

As the door opens, I shut my eyes in case they brought a bright light that’ll blind me. I hear the heavy wood of the door swing inwards and I bring the sword down and round in a wide arc. I’m just about to make it very hard for this guard to walk away from the fight (kneecap damage – I’m not going to kill him) when he says,

“Simon! It’s me – it’s Nicky.”

“Nicky?”

I pull back so fast I almost fall over. I open my eyes, and blink a few times, and he steadies me. It’s definitely him, not a goblin wearing his shape – I recognise his smell (leather jacket and strawberry vape). I don’t hug him, because I don’t like hugging most people, but I’m really pleased he’s alive.

“Is Baz OK? And Penelope?”

“Yeah,” he says. “We’re all fine. How about you? You’ve been out for three days. Healing magic’s a bit dodgy.”

I shrug this off because I don’t want to think about it right now. “Where’re are the others?”

“Upstairs.”

“Cool. Let’s go then.” I turn towards the other occupied cell. “Stand back and I’ll split the lock.”

The goblin light flares again and I see her standing at the back of the cell trying not to look excited.

“Well, hurry up about it.”

“Hang on, Lancelot,” Nicky says as I raise the sword. “I didn’t give you the message yet. You’ll want to hear it. It’s from His Nibs.”

I sheath the sword and it vanishes. “From Baz?”

That sounds good, it sounds like Baz is alive. (I am so fucking grateful Baz is alive.)

“Right. Essentially, he says, stay where you are, don’t attract any attention to yourself, and definitely don’t break out of prison. You can see why I thought it was a fairly relevant message at this particular time.”

“Baz wants me to stay here?” I say. “In a dungeon?”

“Not exactly the place to get over heavy blood loss, is it?” Nicky says. “I told you: Pitches care about magic and power and that’s it. But you can see how it would be awkward for him if you start running around the place, since he’s only king ‘cause he killed you.”

“What do you mean, he’s the king?” I say.

“Who’s the king?” the goblin girl says.

“My boyfriend,” I say. “Do you mean king of the goblins?”

Nicky scowls. “I knew you weren’t in on it, I told Fiona. Listen – if you want to start a revolution let me know. Otherwise, sit tight, eat this, and I’ll bring more news when I have it, OK?”

He’s pressed something round like a Coke can into my hand (the one that isn’t holding the sword). Now he claps me on the shoulders and shuts the door behind him.

“How can your boyfriend be the goblin king?” the girl asks. She’s close to the bars now, looking at me with undisguised scepticism.

“I don’t know,” I say. I think I’m still in shock – maybe Nicky’s right and it’s the blood loss. “He wasn’t yesterday.”

Except – shit. It wasn’t yesterday, was it? It’s been three days. (I’ve missed the start of term.)

I go back and sit in my cell. There’s nothing else really to do. In the light that’s still coming from the girl next door, I can see what Nicky’s given me is actually a tin of spinach – a tin of spinach without a ring-pull. I’m not sure how he expected me to eat it, but I guess I’ve got a magic sword I’m not using for anything else right now.  

“That man called you Simon,” the girl’s voice says. “You’re the Goblinslayer.”

I didn’t know they called me that.

“No wonder you’re hiding in a dark,” she says. “I would be, if I were you.”

It’s lucky I now trust Baz absolutely, because this doesn’t feel good. It feels like one of Baz’s family’s plans to get rid of me.

And it feels like it’s working.

this is the end of part 3... i don’t really remember it very well, although i do remember that i had massive trouble with the doctor wellbelove convo, because it’s a massive info-dump disguised as a scene

“The treaty with the goblins is going very well,” he says. “As well as these things ever do, anyway. Queen Ilex and I have a meeting next week to negotiate the finer points of the treaty.”

Ilex is Holly’s royal name.

“She’s attending the Coven later this month with some of her people, to get the treaty magically ratified by both parties. I’d like you to be there, if possible.”

I swallow. “To stand trial?”

Dr Wellbelove looks surprised. “What on Earth for?”  

“Because,” I say. Isn’t it obvious? “I’ve broken Mage Law, haven’t I?”

Dr Wellbelove nods. It’s definitely more than once.

“But,” he says, “you’ve also done what few others could have managed and helped reached a peaceful accord with a race of dark creatures.”

I shrug. I guess. I mean I was there, although I was unconscious for most of it. I wouldn’t say I helped.

“You may be interested to learn that one of the terms of the treaty was a complete ban on goblin consumption of humans, in exchange for animal livestock. Queen Ilex suggested it herself, although it seems the goblins have developed a taste for Scottish beef. I don’t need to tell you that will save many lives.”

“That was Baz,” I say.

“It wasn’t just Basil, though, was it?”

“Right. It was Penny’s plan that got us of there––”

“She claims it was your plan.”

“I guessed it.”

“And that it wouldn’t have been possible if you hadn’t already formed a relationship with the imprisoned queen.”

“Penny exaggerates,” I say. (Even though he said I wasn’t, I feel like I’m on trial here.) “I talked to Holly for, like, half an hour.”

“Well, how about we return to the numpties then?” Dr Wellbelove says. “You’ve already admitted you responded to a situation  

“That was Nicky!” I say.

Well, I guess I shout it. Dr Wellbelove looks surprised.

But it feels wrong. He’s got it all wrong. I know what it’s like to do big, important stuff and this isn’t it. I’m not the Chosen One any more. I’m not anything. I’m just trying to clean up my own mistakes. And the Mage’s.

“Because you asked him to.”

“Yeah.” I’m getting confused here. “No. I feel like you want me to say that I did all of this stuff, but I didn’t. I didn’t do any of it. None of it was me.”

this is earlier in part three - it’s penny’s POV. i really like that bit about there being worse people to turn into. might re-use it later. 

He and Baz are already all over each other, as though three days apart is unbearable. I chat to Holly the goblin while I wait. And keep waiting. (Micah and I haven’t been in the same country for three months. And it’s not as though there’s any reception down here so I can Skype him.) If you’re up for a round of snogging your boyfriend in public, you can’t be that sick.

Snakes, I think I’m turning into my mum.

I suppose there are definitely worse people I could turn into. Since Mum has almost everything she ever wanted and is pretty much always right. Just like I know I’m right now. Simon is – weirdly – OK.

and the same scene - simon’s POV

“Actually, I did tell you,” I point out.

I watch Baz mentally re-play the last twenty minutes to find out that yes, actually, I did tell him. And he was too busy fussing about his wand.

He shrugs. “Whatever.”

I don’t mind. Him not apologising means he’s not feeling stupidly guilty any more. I lean into him and he frowns.

[thejoeisthejoe]

OLD WIP: (Almost Complete) PRE-SEASON 1 Joe Bullied

Title: Joe Bullied Idea (because he’s tiny and a lil shit and makes people mad)  Author: Robin Gurl Notes: The idea that Joe got bullied because he can’t keep his mouth shut and he’s small which makes him easy to prey on. Which of course includes over protective angry pissed off older brother. Episode: None. This is a preseason 1 idea Disclaimer: I own nothing but the idea. 

“Frank, where is your brother? It’s 4pm, I’m beginning to get worried.”

Frank glanced up from doing his home work to notice that his Aunt was right. “Don’t worry, he’s probably just finishing some stuff up.”

She glanced at him before sighing and walking on down the hallway to put up the clean clothes. Frank just tried to go back to his homework. Joe had something to take care of this afternoon and he knew that pride came before the fall.

Much to the despair of the entire family, Joe had decided to try out for football his junior year of high school. For some unknown reason known to man, the youngest Hardy had made it. However after an entire season of injuries Frank had talked Joe into sticking to singing and quit football.

However, Joe being Joe wasn’t going to just quit with everyone there, so he’d decided to do it after their last practice when no one was around.

*~*

Thud!

Joe slammed against the wall crumpling to the ground in a heap. He groaned propping up on his arm, trying to ignore the pain. “Is that all you’ve got Hardy?” Bradley laughed kicking Joe in the stomach…Hard.

Joe yelped and fell to the ground hugging his stomach coughing and sputtering. “Come on get up.” Bradley laughed. Joe hugged his gut in pain a few droops of blood dripping to the ground. “I said get up!” Bradley growled grabbing Joe by the neck of his shirt and throwing him against the wall. “Look at the baby, awww did it hurt?” Bradley, the captain of the football team asked hovering over the smaller frame of Joe Hardy. Joe was cowering against the wall, bent knees trembling, face bruised, blood running down from his mouth. He wiped it away growling. “So football hurts you or is it just that we beat you up after every game? Or has your idiotic brother finally figured it out?”

“His brother can’t figure out a thing.” Another scoffed.

“LEAVE FRANK ALONE!” Joe shouted shaking with anger throwing his fist out. To their surprise the younger boy punched Bradley.

Everyone stood there in silence and then glanced at one another. Bradley staggered backwards then wiped his mouth. The punch had done nothing.  Bradley looked at his finger where he had touched his lip then to Joe is laughing. “He punches like my sister.” He laughed then turned to Joe, “Actually, I think my sister punches a little harder.” He smiled walking towards Joe.

Joe gulped trying not to shake. “Y-you heard me…Leave my brother alone!” he shuddered holding up his fists.

Bradley grinned evily, “Awww. Does the little baby want his mommy. Oh that’s right… You don’t have one.”

Joe’s eyes widened, pupils dilating as he leapt onto Bradley knocking him back. Bradley fell on his back as Joe punched his face as hard has he could growling with rage. The other boys grabbed Joe and dragged him off and threw him to the ground. Bradley leapt up, “Leave him he’s mine!” he growled. The circle parted and Bradley ran over and sat on Joe’s stomach, knees pressing on his shoulders. He starting punching Joe left and right beating his face.

*~*

The door opened slowly and a small figure walked in limping. Frank heard the noise and stepped out of the kitchen, “Dad? Aunt Gertrude? You back already?!” “F..Frank..”

Frank dropped his glass and plate of food on the floor. It shattered and he stepped over it. “Joe? Joe what happened?” His brother only stared silently wavering unsteadily. Dried blood was on his shirt collar and a stream of it was running down his cheek.  

“Frank- I …I quit football-“ Brown eyes rolled into his head and he fainted falling forwards.

*~*

He woke up to the feeling of a cool cloth running over his cheek. It stung and he winced groaning,

“st..stop.”

“Joe, you’re awake!” Frank dropped the cloth and it plunked in the water. “What happened earlier?”

“God, my head hurts…”

“Who did this to you?”

“Bradley…” Joe replied hoarsely.

“What? Why?”

“I have no idea…” Joe winced and wrapped his arms around his stomach.

“Just lie still, take it easy. I’ve washed off your lip, it’s cut pretty badly. Where else did he get you?” Frank ran a hand through Joe’s blonde hair pushing it away from his eyes. He saw tears were forming. “Joe,” He asked again, this time in a softer tone. “Where else did he get you?”

Joe ignored Frank and the young blonde tried to stand. He figured if he moved quickly the pain wouldn’t hurt as badly. What he’d forgotten was just how hard Bradley had kicked him the gut. He got to his feet with Frank right beside him looking petrified that his brother was moving. “Joe, I really don’t think you need to be on your feet.”

“I just..just wanna go to bed..” The younger hardy replied panting.

“Then sleep down here, Joe. It’ll be alright, I’ll stay with you.”

Once again, Frank was ignored. Joe pushed past his brother and headed towards the stairs. “Maybe a shower would be good to..”

Frank followed silently knowing something bad was going to happen and he was right. Joe collapsed crying out about his stomach hurting. Tears streamed out as his stomach screamed with pain. He felt the presence of Frank and lifted his head slightly, “Joe, you’ve got to lie down.  You want to go back downstairs?”

Frantically Joe shook his head and reached up grabbing the handrail, “Frank- I …I can’t stay down there…y..your bed…ok..?”

“Ok, Joe. Ok. Just let me help you at least.” Frank knelt down wrapped an arm around his brother’s shoulders, “Just take a deep breath and lean on me.”

“F..Frank…i..it hurts..so..so bad…”

Frank could only sigh and help his little brother up the stairs, once off the steep incline Frank relaxed slightly and let Joe put all of his weight on him. He led his brother into his room and helped him lie on the bed, in response Joe just whimpered.

This was what it had been like to an extent the entire year for Joe, after every football game. His brother would come home bloodied and bruises so dark they were green in the middle of the black. It would take Frank most of the night to stop the held in tears and sobs that wracked his brother’s body until morning.

Joe just wasn’t made for a contact sport like foot ball. He was short and tiny for his age as it was. It wasn’t talked about often but because he was born two months premature he was always going to be smaller than everyone else. It was just known.

But that Bradley was going to get it. Frank sat down carefully on the edge of the bed and watched his brother breathe in unsteadily, each breath came out strangled with pain. Thankfully nothing was broken, just sore and bruised.

“Just, relax Joe. I’m here. No one is going to hurt you, I won’t let them. I promise..” This phrase seemed to calm his brother down immensely, “That’s it,” Joe’s facial features relaxed as Frank’s finger ran up and down them. “Shh, I’m here..”

The half broken little sobs were tearing at Frank’s heart and he couldn’t pull away. His heart was pounding and making his hands shake over what Bradley had done to his little brother. Bradley was going to pay.

Then Frank heard the door open, it startled Joe awake slightly. He sat up and twisted to where he was in  Frank’s arms. “Calm down, it’s probably just dad and Aunt Gertrude.”

“D..Don’t let them see me like this…es..especially dad.”

“Joe, he will be able to tell if you’re seriously injured or not.”

The flood gates opened, “I failed him Frank, I can’t let him up here.”

“Failed him? What are you talking about?”

“I’m pathetic. I can’t even play foot ball or defend myself when I’m beat up.”

“Joe, you were attacked it’s not your fault.”

“FRANK? Are you alright up here?” It was their father. “Frank!?”

“No. Frank. DON’T PLEASE.”

Frank just stared down at the shaking bundle of his little brother that was in his arms, “Joe, I have to respond.” Joe only shook his head and Frank sighed into his brother’s hair wrapping his arms around Joe’s waist and just held his upper half in his arms. “Alright, Joe, alright. We’ll just wait then.”

It only took Fenton Hardy around four or so minutes to make it up to Frank’s room. At first he was quite upset that his son didn’t answer him and then he saw the state of his youngest son. He stood there in the entrance to Frank’s room wide eyed.

Frank glanced up at him, Joe had cried himself into a fitful, painful sleep. “Hi dad. Sorry about the mess down stairs…Joe came in…um..hurt and fainted…woke up on the couch and…deliriously walked up here..collapsed on the stairs …then well we’re here.”

“How in the world was Joe hurt? Frank, he looks like he was attacked!” Fenton ran over and took his youngest son’s face in his hands looking it over. “Frank, what happened?”

“Joe quit football today and the captain of the team beat him up for it. Called him names I’m guessing and then he and his little group beat him up.”

Fenton carefully laid Joe’s head back against Frank’s chest then stood up with one hand on Frank’s shoulder to yell down the stairs, “Gertrude, Frank’s unhurt. It’s Joe whose injured. We’re going to need the first aid kit.”

There was an annoyed concerned noise that answered him and then footsteps were heard as their aunt walked up to join them. At sight of one of her nephews in Joe’s condition, she lost it. “My word…” She dropped the first aid kit on the ground and ran over to Frank who was still holding Joe in his arms. “I think this calls for some sort of an explanation, Frank. What happened?”

Fenton Hardy explained what had happened and was trying to decide who to comfort. His sister looked like she was going to faint on the spot and Joe was obviously barely conscious.

“He’s a little embarrassed by all of this so …don’t fret over it to much, ok?” Frank sighed, “Can you watch over him for a bit?”

“Sure, Frank. But where are you going?”

“I left a book at school and while Joe sleeps I’d like to finish my homework.”

Fenton saw right through the lie but knew what Frank was going to do, “Be careful, Frank. We’ll be here.”

*~* “Haha, did you see the way that Hardy kid slithered off?” Bradley laughed loudly to his girl friend as he walked out side, his arm was around her shoulder.

“Brad, you need to be careful, I’ve heard that Frank Hardy isn’t one to mess with.”

“Oh please, Mary. Frank Hardy is even more pathetic than his brother.”

“Oh am I?” Frank asked walking up to the football player. Bradley stood at least a foot and a half taller than Frank.

He grinned down at him laughing. “Come to finish what your brother couldn’t start?”

“You had no reason to hurt him.”

“I did, it’s my warning to the rest of this school, if you’re a pathetic skinny little underweight runt you don’t need to play foot ball. It’s that simple.”

Frank’s temper was rising and it was near boiling. No, he told himself, treat him like a human. There is no need to get physical. He took a deep breath and lowered his fists. “I can get you kicked off the team.”

“For what? Harming your wittle brother? Aww did I ruffle the kitten’s fur? You treat him like a chick, Hardy. Let Joseph take some beatings, it’ll do him some good or maybe he’ll forever be a little momma’s boy. How does your father feel about the loser he bred? At least you have brains. What can Joe do? Sing?”

That did it. Frank’s rationale left. He leapt on top of the muscular football captain knocking him to the ground. Then he began punching him in the face, “How does it feel?!” Frank shouted. “You’re helpless and unable to fight back.”

“Ohhh Frank, get off him!” Mary screamed. “SOMEONE HELP! HE’S KILLING HIM!”

Callie Shaw heard the screams and came running over, surprised to see her boy friend pounding the schools Foot Ball Jock into a pulp. “FRANK! STOP!”

Hearing Callie’s voice pulled Frank out of his daze. He started at his hands, they were covered in blood. Bradley moaned underneath him. “Cal..Callie?”

“Frank? What …why?”

Frank’s glare was hard as he climbed off the mound, “He beat the pulp out of Joe. I couldn’t let him get away with it.”

She tried to approach him, unsure of what to say. He answered for her by shaking her off and walking back inside. She watched him for a second before running after him, finding him in the locker room washing his hands off. “Frank, are you ok?”

“Is Bradley going to be alright?”

“Frank, he’ll live. I’m more worried about you. Why did you do that?”

“Joe is at home in bed with a cut lip, bruised ribs and stomach and God knows what else because Bradley thought it was cute to beat him.” Frank turned around to face her and saw one of the walls behind her had something red on it.

He felt sick to his stomach as he walked over and saw blood splatter on the walls. “T…This was where it happened and no one saw it?”

“Fr..Frank you’re …you’re shaking.”

“Callie, this is where Joe got attacked.” Tears fell down his cheeks and he pulled her close. “I..I couldn’t even protect him…”

“Frank, why don’t you go back home and watch over Joe? I’ll stay and tell the police what happened.”

“Are you sure?” She nodded and reached up and kissed him on the lips. “Thank you, Callie.”

*~*

Back at the house, Fenton Hardy was waiting on Frank. The smell of dinner was on the table as the eldest son walked in the door. He sighed not wanting to talk about what had just happened, he just wanted to get to Joe and stay with him.

“Please tell me you did not do what I think you did.”

Franks gaze hardened as he shrugged off his jacket leaving it in a heap on the floor. “Ask Aunt Gertrude to bring my dinner and a plate for Joe to my room.”

“Frank, what did you do?”

“I did what I had too. He won’t touch Joe ever again.” Frank looked up and saw the terror in his father’s face. “I didn’t kill him. I think I may have broken his nose but that’s nothing compared to what he did to Joe.”

“Frank, I thought I instilled in both of you, violence is never the answer.”

“Dad, I’m not going to sit here and not fight while my brother gets the crap beaten out of him. You can but I’m going to fight. I’m tired of letting my little brother get beat up.”

*~*

Joe woke up slightly when he felt the bed move underneath him.  Any normal time and it wouldn’t have hurt as much as this one did. His stomach was still throbbing from the well placed kick. Then he felt a hand stroke down his cheek and he knew who it was. “Frank?”

“Yeh it’s me. How do you feel?”

“Like I’ve been beat up by a foot ball player twice my size…” The two brothers were silent for a few minutes before Joe spoke again, “Where did you go earlier? I woke up and dad said you’d left.”

“I had some business to take care of.”

“Yeh like what?”

“Homework . I left a book at school and went to go grab it. I saw Callie and she told you get to better.”

“Frank, you and I both know you didn’t just go to school to get a book.” Joe winced pulling himself into a sitting position.

“Joe, lie back down. I’m fine. It’s you I’m more concerned about.” Frank reached over and placed a  hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“Is Bradley ok?”

“Joe, seriously just lie back down.”

“Not until you tell me what’s going on. What did you do Frank?”

“I got in a row with Bradley. I went back to find him and I did. He insulted you and I lost it- jumped on top of him, we fell to the ground and I just kept punching him.” Frank sighed and sat on the edge of the bed leaning against the headboard.

“Is he?”

“No. He’s alive.”

Joe let out a painful sigh laying his head on Frank’s shoulder. “He’s just going to keep doing it, Frank.”

“You know that’s why I’m taking a year off to stay at home. I’m not leaving unless I know you’re safe and right now you’re not.”

“But, you got in to Yale.”

“They’ll wait. Look at what he did to you because you quit the team, what if you tick him off?” Frank actually sounded frightened and showed it by the gently grip he kept on Joe’s shoulder pulling him closer.

[solastia]

Rogues And Charlatans | 1

Pairing: Yoongi x Seokjin

Word Count: 3,212

Summary: What is a gang leader supposed to do when his longtime rival shows up at his door, beaten and begging for help? Defend their honor, of course.

Warnings & Genre: Mafia!au, Fluff, and poorly attempted crack. There will be light violence, but nothing overly graphic. Maybe one person gets shot point blank. As of now, I don’t think I’ll be putting in any smut, but who knows. Basically, this isn’t a dark and serious mafia fic. It’s just a bunch of crooks in love, y’all. 

Notes: So this has been sitting in my WIP forever, and I decided to release it to give you guys something to read. There will only be 3 or 4 chapters of this. Enjoy

The rain beat heavily against the windows, the only sound breaking through the silence in the richly furnished study. Yoongi sighed, burrowing further into his favorite chair before the fire and took a sip of the whiskey he’d been nursing for a while now. Comfort at it’s finest.

This was the first chance he’d gotten to truly relax this entire week, as they’d been ass deep in drama with some new kids thinking they could just walk into Yoongi’s town and take over. The new gang was young and brash, not understanding the importance of playing the game right and having respect for the older players. Yoongi may not be considered old agewise, but he’d been at this for a long time. He’s fought and clawed his way to the top since he was thirteen years old, had done so many things that had chipped away at his soul each time, and no one was going to take his throne.

Today he had finally met up with Park, the leader of the new gang, and had issued an ultimatum. Respect the boundaries, leave his businesses alone, or he would run them out of town. The kid hadn’t done too much damage, just poked his nose where it didn’t belong. It had probably helped that the kid looked more like some ditzy high schooler, with his baby face and sweater paws. He wondered if the kid had ever even held a gun before. How was he the leader of a gang? Whatever was going on there, he could afford to be merciful for now.

Yoongi was considering heading to bed when frantic banging suddenly came from his entryway. He glanced at the clock, grabbing the gun he kept next to his chair when he saw it was two in the morning. Anyone coming by at this hour was either giving him bad news or was bad news.

He turned the safety off and crept slowly towards the door and peered out of the peephole. He couldn’t see anything, which made him even more worried. Keeping his gun at the ready, he unlocked the door and peered out, finding a body on his doorstep. It looked like they had collapsed after knocking, but they were still breathing. Their suit, which had obviously once been expensive and well-tailored, was ripped and covered in blood and dirt. He was soaked through from the rain, and Yoongi guessed they must have been out in it for a while. He aimed his gun at the lump, kicking it lightly.

“Hey, who the hell are you and what do you want.”

They groaned but didn’t answer him, so Yoongi used his foot to roll the body over.

“Shit! Seokjin?!”

He put his gun away and crouched in front of the man, wincing at the sight of the once immaculate face now covered in cuts and bruises. The worst was along his jaw, and he could almost hear the whining that Seokjin would do once he learned it would scar.

“Yoongi...couldn’t…” Seokjin hisses as he tries to sit back up, holding his arm close to him like it was broken. “Sorry...didn’t know where else to go.”

“Alright. Let’s get you inside. If you die of pneumonia on my porch it won’t be nearly as satisfying as killing you myself. I’ve waited twelve years for this moment.”

“Hah, now’s your chance,” Seokjin gave a pained chuckle as Yoongi helped him up, draping the other’s arm across his shoulders.

It was difficult, but Yoongi managed to drag him into the warm study, shutting the door before helping him take off the sodden suit jacket and tie. He gently set him into his chair in front of the fire, trying his best not to jostle what seemed to be severe breaks and bruises all over. Everything else Seokjin was wearing was soaked too, but he wasn’t about to mess with that right now. He filled up a glass of whiskey and brought it to Seokjin, who was gazing into the fire with something that looked a whole lot like despair. Yoongi had never seen a look like that on the usually annoying man. He was now officially disturbed.

“You able to tell me what happened?”

“I…” Seokjin winced as he tried to talk through a split lip.”I was supposed to meet up with the leader of that new gang from Daegu. They have Jungkook. They promised to give him back in return for a partnership in one of my businesses. It was a trap. They ambushed me in a warehouse. Drugged me, punched me around a bit. Managed to jump out of the window to escape, but it was the second floor, hence this,” he said as he gestured towards the arm he kept close to his chest. “You were the nearest person I could get to on foot.”  

“I’m going to kill Park. I told him to stop fucking around and play the game right.”

“It wasn’t him. Jiminie wouldn’t do that. Besides, he’s from Busan, not Daegu.”

Yoongi didn’t understand the annoyance he felt hearing Seokjin calling the kid cute nicknames.

“Jiminie? Why the fuck are you calling him Jiminie?” Yoongi growled, already envisioning how slowly he’d rip the kid to pieces.  

“Oh, uh. He and Jungkook are seeing each other,” Seokjin chuckled lowly.

Yoongi quirked an eyebrow in disbelief. “You’re letting your little brother date a rival gang boss? Are you insane?”

“I was upset at first too, but really, they are cute together. Jimin dotes on him, and Kook is equally crazy about him. He’s been respectful towards me and listens when I give him advice. He’s going to be furious when he finds out,” Seokjin’s lip looks wobbly to Yoongi, and he really hopes he’s not about to have his hands full of a weeping man in a moment. He should probably get Seokjin dry and in bed, maybe get him patched up. They could figure out the next step in the morning.

Yoongi sighs and pulls out his phone, sending several texts before he clears his throat, looking Seokjin over again.

“I just sent for Namjoon. I need his help if we’re going to get you upstairs into one of the bedrooms. Also sent for our doctor. I’d rather not have you bleeding all over my antique furniture.”

Seokjin sniffs loudly before smiling gently at Yoongi. “Look at you not letting me die. I knew you cared.”

Yoongi’s can feel his face heating up, turning quickly to answer the knock on the study door.

“Nah. Just don’t want DNA evidence all over the place. Harder to lie to the authorities then.”

Seokjin snickers softly and Yoongi feels a strange sort of pride for making the other feel better, albeit temporarily. He tried to reason with himself that it was merely the game. That he only cared because Seokjin and he were old players that had to band against someone threatening the way things were. A little voice that he promptly shut up was teasing that there was much more to it.

He swung the door open for his sleep ruffled right-hand man.

“Hey, boss. You called? Hobi will be here soon. He was working on a patient.”

“Yeah, we have a guest. You can set him up in the room across from mine. Have the Doc look over his injuries when he gets here. He’ll probably have to borrow some clothes from you too because he’s got shoulders the size of the great wall and would destroy my shirts.”

“Complain all you like, Yoongles. That just means you’re looking.”

“On second thought, let him die.”

Seokjin smiles as much as his cut lip will allow, holding his arms up for Namjoon as he walked around the chair to pick him up.

“This is so humiliating, but carry me if you must.”

Yoongi snorts, “Don’t act like you wouldn’t demand to be princess carried everywhere if you could get away with it.”

“Why, Yoongi. I assumed that’s what you hired this Daddy Longlegs for.”

Namjoon huffs a laugh as he lifts Seokjin up and heads for the stairs.

“If you want to see it, it only happens when he’s drunk. Suddenly his legs just stop working, it’s the strangest thing.”

Yoongi’s face is bright red as he follows behind, Seokjin’s teasing eyes watching him over Namjoon’s shoulder.

“I hope you both fall down the stairs.”

“Aw, you couldn’t live without me, boss. Literally. You’d die because you’d forget to eat.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes and walks around the pair to open the door for them. The room is every bit as grand as his own. He’s done well for himself and it shows. Most of the money he makes goes towards taking care of his people and the causes in town he cares about (because he’s not a total asshole. He has to live here too), but his home is one of the things he likes to splurge on.

The room he’s set Seokjin in is decorated almost as well as something you’d see in a royal palace. It’s spacious and lavishly decorated in royal blues and bright golds. He tried hard to make it look impressive without bordering near gaudy. He hoped Seokjin liked it.

He hoped he liked it? Who the fuck cares if he likes it, Yoongi! He’s your rival, your enemy! Who cares how pretty he’d look wrapped in those expensive linens.

“Joonie? Can you set me down in the bathroom, please? You can bring me clothes in there. I need to get some of this muck off of me before I get in that bed. I feel disgusting.”

Yoongi felt a feral growl building in his throat. Joonie?

“Sure, but be careful, Mr. Kim. Doc will have my head if you hurt yourself more.”

Namjoon sets Seokjin down near the shower then leaves, shutting the door behind him. He raises an eyebrow at Yoongi as he heads to his own room, the other following behind.

“So, boss. You wanna tell me why your, and I quote, ‘mortal enemy and everlasting pain in your ass’ is getting ready to spend the night? And all the beat up like that?” Namjoon asks as he rifles through his drawers for something suitable.

“Some new gang from Daegu has Jungkook and said they’d trade for him. They lied. Fucked him up instead and he barely got away.”

Namjoon turns to him with a frown, a pile of folded clothes in his hands. “They got Kook? That’s not good. Not that I don’t think he’ll be able to hold his own - he will. But still, fuck.”

“Are you worried about a rival gang member? Did I not put you through Mafia 101 when I hired you? You do know he’s Seokjin’s heir, right?”

Namjoon chuckles, walking back towards the bedroom as Yoongi trails behind him.

“Jungkook is a good kid. And you’re the only one that insists on acting like Seokjin is your mortal enemy. Everyone else is convinced he’s totally in love with you. Do we compete sometimes? Sure. But they’ve helped us out a lot as well, and Seokjin’s never acted against us. Hell, I’m pretty sure he’s the one that shut that Sehun kid up a few years ago when he was making death threats against you.”

Yoongi decided the amount he’d been blushing today was unacceptable and needed to stop.

“That’s just because of our pact.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes as they entered the bedroom.

“Ah yes, the pact. That someday you’ll meet in the middle of the street and duel western style. That it’s the only way either of you will die. Stupid.”

“It’s not stupid. It’s honorable.”

“It’s ridiculous. First of all, every street around here has cameras so everyone would have footage. Secondly, I doubt either of you would go through with it.”

Yoongi grunted his disapproval, which affected Namjoon in no way as the other simply ignored him and knocked on the bathroom door, handing the clothes to Seokjin without looking.

Yoongi and Namjoon both waited in the bedroom in case Seokjin called for help, both of them making a show of playing around on their phones.

After a few moments, the door cracked open and cleaner version of Kim Seokjin emerged. He stood shakily as Namjoon rushed over and lifted him gently, walking him towards the massive bed. The doctor finally arrived, knocking loudly against the wall as he entered.

“Finally home! What seems to be the problem?”

Seokjin peered over Namjoon’s shoulder while he was being deposited into the bed, sighing dramatically.  

“Jung Hoseok. Of course it’s you. I should really have you killed for playing both sides, you know. You can’t be the doctor for both of our gangs.”

Hoseok laughs as he joins the others by the bed, setting his instrument bag on the nightstand.

“I’m a doctor, Mr. Kim. I have no sides. I simply go where I’m needed.”

“And you needed to be here fucking me over?”

“Technically I’m here so Namjoon could fuck me over.”

“Oh. Mazeltov.” Seokjin looks between the two with wide eyes and a little sheepish grin.

Yoongi snorts, trying to hide his grin of amusement.

“Will you shut up and let the man do his job?”

“Yoongi, you almost sound worried about me. Don’t get all soft on me now.” Seokjin’s eyes are practically twinkling with mischief as he observes Yoongi while Hoseok checks him over.

“He probably is worried, but he’ll never admit it. He’s a mother hen,” Hoseok cackles as he wraps up Seokjin’s wrist.

“Hey, boss?” Namjoon came up behind Yoongi and gently squeezed his shoulder. “Mr. Kim could probably do with some food. He’ll have to take some pain meds and can’t do that on an empty stomach.”

Food. He could do food. He’d fetch something from the kitchen.

“Be right back.”

As Yoongi traveled to the kitchen, he contemplated the pain he felt in his chest. He could pin it on feeling worried about some new gang getting vicious. Like he was worried they’d come for him next. He knew it was more than that, though. It was because they dared to touch Seokjin. Because Seokjin looked like he could have died today. The thought of Seokjin dead...it should make him happy, right? He was a rival boss and without him, there’d be less competition. Twelve years of putting up with this ridiculous man was enough. However, imagining the different outcome that could have happened tonight filled him with rage instead. Rage...and heartbreak.

Yoongi ignored that little tidbit for now and got to work ransacking his kitchen. He needed to make sure he got enough. Seokjin loved food so he would make sure that there was plenty to choose from. Eventually, he had a tray filled with side dishes, rice, and soybean paste stew. He chewed his lip as he contemplated whether it was enough, deciding to throw on a slice of the walnut tart he’d had for his own dessert that night.

He balanced the tray carefully as he walked back upstairs, the laughter floating from the bedroom making him smile. Hoseok and Namjoon were sitting on the side of the bed grinning as the freshly wrapped and bandaged Seokjin was in the middle of one of his ridiculous laughs.

“Yoongi! They were just telling me the best stories. Did you really try to rob the falafel place when you were a teenager? Even I’m terrified of him.”

Yoongi groaned and set the tray across Seokjin’s lap.

“Why’d you have to tell him that one? Yes, I did. I was convinced it was a cover business. So I planned this elaborate heist for months. Only to find out that not only does said terrifying owner live in the building, but he doesn't keep cash in the register or a safe. I only found a little change laying around before he woke up and chased after me with a paintball gun. All that work and I only got $2.38 and a huge welt on my ass from a paintball.”

Yoongi decided his humiliation was worth the utter joy it brought to Seokjin as the other fell into another fit of laughter. The despair he’d seen earlier was branded in his memory, so unusual was it to see such a negative emotion on the face of this man. Yoongi would bet actual money that even if he was about to kill someone, Seokjin would flirt up until the last moment.

“We’re going to go to bed now that everything seems okay. The arm is just sprained really bad, not broken. He does have a few bruised ribs that I want him to be careful with. I do highly suggest going to the hospital as soon as you can manage it to get some xrays and have your head looked at to make sure there’s no concussion. Otherwise, you’re going to live, it seems.” Hoseok pats Seokjin’s uninjured shoulder as he stands up, pulling Namjoon with him.

“Thank you, Doctor Turncoat.”

Hoseok grins and rolls his eyes, pulling Namjoon along with him.

Yoongi observes Seokjin as he struggles to eat with his left hand, spilling more on himself than he got into his mouth.

He sighs and wiggles his fingers. “Gimme.”

Seokjin glances at him in confusion for a moment, following his line of sight until it hit the spoon in his hand. The grin that made an appearance as he figured it out made Yoongi extremely nervous. It looked...knowing. Knowing of what?

He silently handed over the spoon and Yoongi went right to work, scooping a bit of stew onto it then lightly blowing, trying to avoid the cut in the other’s lip when he brought it to his mouth. He tried not to focus too much on the image of those plump lips being wrapped around something, nor the moans of pleasure as Seokjin at the stew.

“This is actually really good. Add some shrimp and it would taste just like my Mom’s.”

Yoongi flushed, changing the spoon to chopsticks so he could feed him some side dishes.

“I’ve had a few daydreams like this before. Some pretty thing feeding me delicious food. Only there are a lot fewer clothes and I’m not quite so mangled.”

Yoongi glances sharply at him, frowning as he fed him a bite of fish cake.

“You’re not mangled. Just beat up a bit. It’ll go away soon. You’ll be back to reminding me how handsome you are in no time.”

“Hoseok said my cheek will scar.”

Seokjin sounds near tears, and Yoongi’s heart clenched.

“I’m going to make those bastards suffer for what they did to you.”

“You say the most romantic things,” Seokjin said with a sigh, his eyelids fluttering as he fought off sleep. The pills must have started to kick in.

Yoongi picks up the tray and heads to the door, standing by the light switch.

“Get some sleep, Seokjin. I’ll help you get Jungkook back, you have my word.”

“Thank you, Yoongi,” Seokjin nearly whispers. Yoongi nods and flicks off the light, heading downstairs to plan.

Whoever these fuckers were that dared to touch Seokjin were going to die. 

There would be no mercy. 

They would burn.

[bakudekuficlibrary]

BakuDeku: ABO AU Part I

5 Series. 65 Works.

Click here for Part II!

Quiet Rapture by lalazee  ( E | 29,113+ | 8/? )

That ABO fic where cocky Alpha Bakugou falls in mate-love at first scent, while Midoriya is just a poor bookstore-owning Omega who got his nose punched in is a kid and can't smell a damn thing. Also known as: That time an Alpha had to use his actual personality to woo his mate instead of relying on his scent.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence]

Alexithymia by DriftingGlass  ( M | 61,246 | 10/11 )

It’s as if he’s inhaling a breath of snow and ashes—a shock and choke in his throat, strangely reminiscent of the day he realized that the birthmark blooming on his shoulder was identical to the drawings on his childhood friend’s desk.

Now, twelve years later, it only confirms Izuku’s impending doubts that, yes, he is now legally claimed by Katsuki Bakugou.

[ THIS FIC HAS BEEN DISCONTINUED. ]

[Underage]

He's Mine by Dracien  ( T | 42,055+ | 28/? )

Katsuki staked his claim a long time ago and fuckers need to back the hell up!

Oddly Beautiful by totalweebshit (Darkshadow)  ( Not Rated | 26,738+ | 7/? )

Izuku was the outcast omega of the Hetjan tribe. With his father having left him and his mother years ago the two of them lived alone in relative peace. However, everything changed when the rival tribe, Irae, attacked and one hot tempered alpha, Katsuki Bakugo, decided to take Izuku as his own.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence | Major Character Death | Rape/Non-Con]

How to Train Your Shitty Omega by deanvspanties  ( E | 80,130+ | 11/? )

Izuku will have Bakugou's knot. He's Izuku's alpha after all.

I'm sorry for this, but I just had an image in my head of omega!Izuku destroying the school, hunting down Bakugou, and demanding his knot.

Gravity by warschach  ( E | 71,477 | 10/10 )

Izuku is back in his hometown and plenty hasn't changed much from the 8 years he was gone. Except, Katsuki Bakugou, the alpha king of their small town. He's hotter- because that's fair, right, God? -, stronger, a now-famous pro fighter, and noticeably nicer this round.

Not that he cares, pfft.

Ha, Izuku Midoriya caring about Katsuki Bakugou, thinking he's pretty cute and not half bad once you get past the asshole persona; though that gargantuan ego of his could take a dive off a very tall cliff.

(Fine, he cares.)

the last dragon-blood king by claimedbydaryl  ( E | 107,009 | 13/13 )

Katsuki Bakugou was the alpha heir to a forgotten throne, reigning lord and warden of the Fyre Isles, a famed warrior of vicious repute in the Western Seas, and he would be wed to Izuku Midoriya by the day’s end.

Lost Omega by GreyDayMoon  ( Not Rated | 36,940+ | 12/? )

Izuku was just trying to take care of himself and his mother but a single slip up sends him into unfamiliar territory where he encounters an aggressive alpha who drags him into tribe life.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence | Underage]

Never Too Old To Learn by iknewaman ( E | 26,115 | 4/4 )

Katsuki has only ever heard of how omegas behave when nesting, but actually seeing it happen is… educational, to say the least.

[Series] The (Im)Proper Way to an Alpha-Omega Courtship by halcyonwhispers  ( M&E | 14,633+ | 2 Works | WIP )

Congratulations! You and your alpha/omega are about to begin a beautiful relationship. Whether or not you decided to date beforehand or jump straight into courting matters not, just as long as you and your potential mate are committed to following the guidelines.

Things to know:

1. The most primal instinct of many is to mate right away with your potential candidate. Alpha ruts and unsuppressed Omega heats are a mighty big temptation in this pairing, but it's all up to willpower and holding patience.

2. Mess up step one.

[Underage]

Replace Your Brain with Your Heart by Damalia (Achrya)  ( E | 8,961+ | 3/? )

Katsuki has always known Deku was his, he just didn't fucking like it. Who wanted some shitty Quirkless beta as a mate? Not him. Except now he's not so Quirkless or, it seems, a beta either and, after a heated exchange in the locker room, it's a lot harder to ignore what he's always known. Doesn't mean he won't keep trying.

And He Was Magnificent by Skaii, SugarbabyIzuku  ( E | 4,134+ | 1/1 )

Midoriya Izuku is an omega slave, born into a life of subservience. He's trapped, never to reach his dreams of something more; until he's thrust headfirst into the world of Bakugou Katsuki, the crown prince of Incendium Kingdom. Now, Izuku must adjust to a new life as Katsuki's slave—while a war that threatens to shake the land looms on the horizon.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence]

Lips, Teeth, Hands by litathesissy  ( E | 2,044 | 1/1 )

“Fuck me,” his omega said, and Katsuki dissolved.

Heroes Can Be Cute by GreyDayMoon, ImmortalPanda ( Not Rated | 45,033+ | 19/? )

Inko had an unexpected guest come home to dinner with her husband. Her four year old tried to befriend the obviously unstable boy and she worries for him.

This fanfic follows Izuku after he befriends Tomura at a young age. They eventually separate onto their own paths of heroics and villainy. Along the way Izuku reconnects with Bakugou and they plan for a bright future as heroes. Let's just hope all the secrets Izuku has to keep doesn't get in the way.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence]

Subliminal Desires by DMMegsie  ( E | 6,351 | 1/1 )

Being at the top is hard. Public apperances, travelling the world, and fighting villains to boot.

Yet at the end at the end of the day sometimes it is good to just sit back and relax.

At least that's what Katsuki Bakugou is thinking when returning home from another trip to his apartment and Izuku.

Scream Like A Banshee, Make You Jump Out Of Your Skin. by RahRaZorBlade  ( E | 2,235 | 2/2 )

Midoriya presents as an Omega in the middle of class, and unfortunately for everyone they witness the moment Bakugou finds out who his soulmate is.

Hell's Occupants by AlchemyandHeroAnalysis  ( M | 64,272+ | 13/? )

Katsuki was in hell. Absolute. Fucking. Hell.

The only saving grace from this whole situation was that Katsuki definitely knew he wasn’t in heat. Despite all the similar symptoms, he had yet to feel any trace amount of slick nor the familiar warmth he associated with his monthly heats.

So what the actual fuck is going on?

Summary: Katsuki goes into a nesting frenzy and begins to exhibit behavior no one would have ever really expected of him.

Mature Rating and Underage Warning just in case. Extra Warning: Author is prone to frequent editing updates-my bad!!!! D:

The Bonds that Bind Us by DMMegsie  ( M | 28,298+ | 5/? )

Travelling with his trading caravan, Izuku is on his way home when they stumble across an already heated battle in the middle of an open field in the dead of night. Being mistaken as part of attacking party, Izuku finds himself fighting off the fabled Demon King of the Mountains of Fire.

However, during the battle, Izuku breaks a necklace on the Demon King that held an unspoken promise from his mother from long ago, which changes everything.

Nothing ever as it seems, nor is it simple. As an omega of elven descent, Izuku has a lot to learn about the greater world and himself. The same could be said of the half dragon lord of the mountain.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence | Rape/Non-Con]

[Series] A/B/O x My Hero Academia by GreyLiliy ( M | 54,311+ | 2 Works | WIP )

My works featuring the My Hero Academia characters and pairings in the Alpha/Beta/Omega AU. Multiple takes on the AU & ratings and contents will vary.

Night Out by Morpheel ( E | 20,527+ | 4/? )

When news spreads around about Ground Zero's rise to the Top Ten Heroes list, leave it to his "friends" to plan a special get-together for their group.

Too bad that get-together included a trip to the local Omegan strip club; which Bakugou was firmly not interested in. Why the fuck would he want to go to a club where you stand with a bunch of other sweaty Alphas just to stare up at some scantily clad Omegas? It's completely goddamn pointless.

That's what he kept telling himself. At least, until he wound up enraptured by a special dancer with the code name "Deku".

out of my head of my heart of my mind by calcidekudine (calciseptine)  ( E | 7,956+ | 4/? )

"I didn’t take my pills," Katsuki announces as he steps boldly into Izuku's space. "It will be here soon."

Flower Bouquet by MaiaMizuhara  ( M | 90,620+ | 15/? )

The flowers sprout from night to morning like moles, although they looked more like faint tattoos. Each flower, as well as their color, tells us about the personality of their bearer. Their location identifies the type of person—chest, upper back and shoulders for an alpha (strength, fierceness and protection); hands, legs and face for a beta (hard work, safety and confidence); and finally, abdomen, stomach and lower back for the omega (motherhood, sweetness and sensuality). Every year, the tattoos are enhanced, they bloom and spread throughout the body of their bearer.

With sixteen years, Izuku does not have a flower, but in his memories flashes the red of the gladiolus flower against the skin of Katsuki. It is the memory he has and with it his desire to return home is revived; but things are never easy.

(AU. Three kingdoms, and a war about to explode.)

[Graphic Depictions of Violence]

New To Both Of Us by GrumpyTanner, underoriginal ( E | 12,646+ | 6/? )

Bakugou hadn't expected this when he got his first (and only!) Pet on a whim. He hadn't expected the nibbling, the teasing, the fear...

And he definitely hadn't expected to find the love of his life. But here he is, with a rabbit and a hard-on. What's a hero to do?

We Are The Wild Ones by Damalia (Achrya)  ( E | 6,390+ | 3/4 )

Tumblr request: "Katsuki in a rut imagining snatching Izuku on his way to school and fucking him. can you write an explicit au where he does that?"

I can. And did.

[Rape/Non-Con]

Our Lives On Fire by KaeLash ( E | 41,244+ | 14/? )

Katsuki Bakugo is the ultimate alpha. He finally has the life he’s always wanted but never thought he deserved. He’s an Olympic gold medalist and his career as a trainer is reaching new unbelievable levels of success. He’s married to Izuku Midoriya, an omega, whom he’s unadmittedly been in love with since they were kids.

They’ve just become new parents to a baby boy, Kazuki.

After becoming a father he still hasn’t been able to make peace with the ghosts of his past.

And what he finds even worse than that...he hasn’t been able to mate with his sexy omega in months...

Bakugo is at the end of his rope on his journey of accepting his rocky, mysterious past and becoming a husband and a new daddy.

(Hopefully he’ll get to tie Deku up with a rope again really soon...)

*Alpha/Beta/Omega Universe

Oubaitori by DriftingGlass  ( M | 32,666+ | 4/16 )

From the moment he was born, Izuku understood that he was different. He was a rarity, an omega; not necessarily seen as useful or even desirable. It didn't take long, however, for his entire future to be placed in the hands of an alpha, one by the name of Katsuki Bakugo.

Through many pitfalls, confusion, and pains of growing up in a city where both are outcasts of their own kind, it takes more than just the threads of instinct and arranged contracts to bring two hearts together.

Love isn't fate. It's pure luck.

[Underage]

Dark Side by Daiako (Achrya)  ( E | 16,247+ | 11/? )

ABO prompt fills, as requested on tumblr.

1. "You're mine, now. To knot and breed as long as I want you." Alpha Izuku/Omega Katsuki 2. “What’s this, slick? You’re actually getting turned on by this? I knew omegas were good for nothing whores!” Alpha Katsuki/Omega Izuku 3. “S—stop, I can’t think straight right now, your pheromones are making it too hard…” Alpha Katsuki/Omega Izuku 4. "I love it when you moan like that." "You’ve been good, so I’m going to let you come" Alpha Izuku/Omega Katsuki 5. "Bite Me" Alpha Izuku/Omega Katsuki 6 and 7. "Ride Me" Alpha Katsuki/Omega Izuku 8. Omega tossing their Alpha over the shoulder" O!Izuku/A!Katsuki 9. Squirting, O!Iida/A!Todoroki 10. O!Izuku/A!Katsuki, Snake Shifters, Snake Charmers, and a bathroom hookup. 11. "Let Me See" Creampie, O!Iida, A!Todoroki, A!Shinsou

Series Part 2 of Dark ABO

[Graphic Depictions of Violence | Rape/Non-Con]

Cinnamon Bun Bun by DarkMachi ( M | 20,124+ | 12/? )

In a world with humanoid creatures called "pets", Katsuki Bakugou finds himself suddenly the owner of a timid curly haired rabbit. How the fuck did that happen? Will the reluctant new owner and abandoned pet be the best thing for each other or will it end in disaster? Only the tags will ever know.

*This story is mostly about fluff and more fluff. Warning and "past" tags for a backstory chapter almost exclusively. Will warn at the beginning of any chapter with sensitive issues.*

[Graphic Depictions of Violence | Rape/Non-Con]

A Helping Hand. by theweakestthing  ( E | 4,248 | 1/1 )

Knees to the floor, no matter how hard he tried to get back on his feet his legs wouldn't move, not in the other's presence. His body wanted him on the floor, his body wanted him to open his mouth and beg, that wasn't him at all. That wasn't who Bakugou was, he wouldn't put his face to the floor for anyone.

Of all the people to force him to his knees, Midoriya was possibly the last person in the universe he'd ever want to do that for. The thought alone that the other was an alpha was surprising, maybe if he had the presence of mind to examine his interactions with Midoriya he might have been kicking himself, it wasn't like he cared it just seemed to him that the universe was working against him somehow.

He'd had a very long string of luck, now it seemed that he'd finally run out.

Instincts by HG_Wells  ( E | 4,184 | 2/2 )

Izuku presents as a very special and VERY rare type of Omega and enters the worst heat imaginable, he needs to find an equally as rare Alpha to help him with this problem. Not so thankfully, he knows only one person that is able to help him with this situation. His very own personal bully.

Bakugou Katsuki.

[Underage]

[Series] BNHA: Hybrid A/O/B Works by Morpheel  ( E | 25,512+ | 3 Works | WIP )

Storge by Mellosweet  ( G | 7,585 | 3/3 )

“Hold on,” Aizawa said, his voice harsh as if he couldn’t believe what he was just told “let me see if I heard it right. You went to Midoriya’s house with Eri and Kouta, because they wanted to see him, but Midoriya is in heat. Then he called the kids his ‘pups’, took them to his bedroom, and now Bakugou won’t let you near the house?” “Yes” Togata looked up to the building behind him “What should I do?” Aizawa sighs “I am not paid enough for this.”

[Series] Time waits for none by Gladiolus  ( G | 5,896+ | 3 Works | WIP )

Alternate universe featuring younger Bakugou Katsuki and four years older Midoriya Izuku. Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics will be included but neither quirks or the hero business will be.

Everything will take place in the same universe.

Notes: This will be slow-burn.

Currently on HIATUS. Maybe permanently, I am so sorry.

Izuku's Home for Wayward Pets by glamour_weeb  ( E | 5,697+ | 3/? )

Izuku works at the Bureau of Companion Protection as a rehabilitator for abused and abandoned Companions, animal-human hybrids. He’s seen his fair share of cruelty cases and even fostered a few Companions, but he’s never had a Companion of his own, until now. After rescuing Katsuki from a life in an illegal, underground Companion fighting ring, Izuku must take in the wolfdog that no one else can handle.

Eventually, Katsuki comes to love his new home, as well as his new Master.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence]

The Rarity by bittybitt39  ( E | 24,926+ | 7/? )

Midoriya Izuku had been promised at the age of four to his once dear friend, Bakugou Katsuki. Their mothers thought it smart to betroth the two in the hopes that Izuku would be protected and taught in the safety of the guards Mitsuki could provide until the day he was old enough to come to the south kingdom. After all, it was not everyday that the rarity of a male omega was born within these times.

Izuku grows up knowing he is promised, and has vague memories of his alpha from his younger days. He is also gifted, in more ways than one when his teacher Toshinori confronts his mother with Izuku being named as his successor. But a war breaks out between the kingdoms of the north and east, and the betrothed are separated far longer than the royal family would have hoped. But the war raging keeps them separated besides a few letters that are received from those that were brave enough to run through the war lands.

The Duo by furipuri  ( M | 21,385+ | 8/? )

As children, Katsuki and Izuku make the promise to become a duo hero team. Things don't go quite as planned.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence]

Spiral by Daiako (Achrya)  ( E | 30,795+ | 9/? )

Katsuki and Izuku have a heated encounter in the school bathroom. It sets off something dark between them and, for better or worse, there will be no going back.

Series Part 1 of Dark ABO Part 1 of Downward Spiral

[Rape/Non-Con]

Still by my side by Rinba ( T | 9,678 | 8/8 )

He looked tired? No he looked exhausted. His skin paler than usual, and his build even though larger, looked to have lost some definition.

He looked, he looked like, "Shit, you look like shit," the blonde spat, "Smell like shit too."

Izuku laughed. It was a wet laugh almost hoarse.

"I'm pregnant Kaachan."

Series Part 1 of Still by my side

Fate Be Damned! by the_sukekiyo_vandal  ( M | 39,976+ | 5/? )

The Tribe located in the Valley of Midoriya was a green paradise for all. Well, except for Deku, one of the few Omegas in the village. His life was cursed the moment his mother gave birth to him. Fate dictated that Deku lead a life of submission to inevitably become an Alpha’s possession. So-called fate be damned! Deku decides to forge his own path in life leading him to a volatile dragon king with a fiery temper and a penchant for unnecessary arguments.

cliff's edge by umbrage  ( E | 3,061 | 1/1 )

Bakugou is sure there's a perfectly alpha-centric explanation to his deviancy.

Or maybe, there isn't, and that's okay, too.

where i feel you the most by shousanki  ( E | 3,899 | 1/1 )

In which Katsuki comes 1) to terms with Izuku's screwy biology almost as unpredictable as the person himself, and 2) down Izuku's warm and willing throat.

Get By With A Little Help by SpectrumArcadia  ( M | 1,700 | 1/1 )

Midoriya goes into heat early and asks his childhood friend to scent him so he can safely get home without being accosted.

[Series] what’s mine is mine by xenodickery  ( E | 20,538+ | 3 Works | WIP )

You. Me. The Moon. by Copkilla1990  ( E | 41,118+ | 10/? )

it started with katsuki's uncontrollable werewolf wet dreams. or something like that

Series Part 1 of hallow

Marshmallow by choimarie  ( Not Rated | 3,359 | 1/1 )

day 3: tears

“Yo! Look at what we have here!” A voice said loudly and Izuku's heart stopped.

He turned around, his eyes widening.

A group of six alphas was walking his way towards him.

Series Part 3 of Bakudeku week 2k18

Kintsugi by Agent_Fluff  ( Not Rated | 13,871+ | 3/? )

Midoriya Izuku is about to be named Chief of the Heitan tribe. He suffers doubts of whether or not he can be as good of a leader as Chief Toshinori was before him, especially since he's a male omega, something his tribe considers to be a bad omen. As the night goes on, he feels more at ease with himself, until the neighbouring Chikara tribe decide to pay the peaceful tribe a visit.

Mine! by Cotton_Candy_Apple  ( T | 3,543+ | 5/? )

Katsuki has had a crush on Izuku since he was little and the Omega came over to watch him. (Which made no sense because "Izuku was only 3 years older than me, MOM!")

Izuku was the softest sweetest person around and Katsuki loved making him happy. He just hoped he could keep Izuku happy without having to give him up to anyone.

Homemade Happiness by Siduki  ( M | 27,664+ | 5/? )

There was probably a bigger chance for Izuku to win the lottery then for this to happen, unfortunately instead of getting filthy rich overnight, Izuku had managed to choose the worst fucking person in the world to be his sperm donor.

a love story about an IUI, an extreme coincidence and two people seriously destined to be together no matter what

Go the Fuck to Sleep by glamour_weeb  ( T | 869 | 1/1 )

Izuku can't sleep and Katsuki takes care of him aka Izuku is needy and Katsuki is whipped.

Takes place during the training camp.

The words that changed our fate by Boozombie  ( Not Rated | 18,138+ | 12/? )

Kacchan’s last words to Izuku and izuku’s last words to the world changed their fates. One was a hot head alpha with a bloated ego, the other a quirkless omega who believed no one in the world could love him, but as their paths diverge they learn they were more connected than they ever thought possible.

“Pray you’ll be born with a quirk in your next life and take a swan dive off the roof”

Kacchan never would have thought that would be the last thing he’d say to his estranged best friend, the boy he had long forgotten the promise to protect from the world who thought him weak.

“You can not be a hero without a quirk”

All might wouldn’t have been so harsh had he realized the delicate state the omega had been in, it wasn’t like him to let his own failings effect how he spoke to those he swore to protect.

“He’s right, no one will miss a quirkless omega like me”

Izuku didn’t know anyone else was listening to the words he planned to be his last.

“I will”

It was Kai’s first words to Izuku that truly changed the path of these boys lives though.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence | Underage]

Fingers Trace You by Daiako (Achrya)  ( E | 3,313 | 1/3 )

When Izuku decided to bring Katsuki soup it was because he thought the omega was sick. When it turns out he's actually in heat, and has decided to accept the food as an 'offering' of sorts and invites him inside, things go in a very unexpected direction. ...or not that unexpected.

Dear Fellow Traveler by Morpheel  ( E | 19,863+ | 4/? )

On the verge of completing a cure that would see to the end of many common ailments, Alchemist Izuku Midoriya grows desperate at the realization that he is missing a key ingredient to his brew.

However the blanket of night looms overhead, promising trouble to any who would dare venture out into the deadened woods at these hours. Many travelers have lost their lives braving the dangers of the forest, but it's a risk that Izuku must take, as the concoction would be unusable by the crack of dawn.

Yet the forest was never supposed to hold Werewolves.

Sorely unprepared for a run-in with the Alpha of a desperate pack, Izuku is captured, and held hostage within their ranks. In the midst of a clan afflicted with illness and death, Midoriya must survive the temperament of clan leader Bakugo Katuski, while attempting to find a cure for their affliction.

Easier said than done.

Series Part 1 of BNHA: Fantasy AU

[Graphic Depictions of Violence]

A Nest for the Best by Camellia_Sinensis  ( T | 1,007 | 1/1 )

Deku’s been nesting and asking everyone in 1-A for pieces of clothing for his horde. Everyone, that is, except Katsuki. Cue the jealousy.

Series Part 1 of Dorks in Love (oneshots)

Mine!Mine!Mine! by Chuchutu  ( M | 1,376 | 1/1 )

Plotbunnies

Younger Alpha!Katsuki and Older Omega!Izuku

Katsuki staked his claim a long time ago and fuckers need to back the hell up!

[Underage]

You Speak To Me In Riddles by Daiako (Achrya)  ( E | 14,163+ | 3/? )

Katsuki isn't lonely, exactly, but...well, maybe he's lonely. Maybe that leads him to clicking the link for a video from a Cam Omega and, as pathetic as it is, coming back again and again. Maybe he's a little more into 'Usagi' than he has any right to be. And then there's Izuku Midoriya, useless quirkless beta fuck, who comes back into his life changed. Older, colder, bitter. Angry, with Katsuki more than anyone or anything else and yet Katsuki can't stay away or keep from getting more and more involved, even when a new threat in his hero life threatens to strike closer to home than ever.

Starting over is hard, earning forgiveness even harder, and dealing with nothing being what he thought it was hardest of all.

Formerly: It's Too Cold For You

For Public Use by DrProblematic  ( E | 6,272 | 1/1 )

“I don’t think you quite understand your situation, Deku. You see—” Katsuki’s other hand joined the one on the boy’s lower back just before he slowly — suggestively — swept them down, settling on either side of Izuku’s hips. His fingers dug into his flesh through the fabric of his uniform pants, and the boy stiffened. “You’re in no position to be giving me fucking orders.”

[Rape/Non-Con | Underage]

Here's To A Happy Ending by Daiako (Achrya)  ( M | 10,625+ | 4/? )

When all the alphas in a class start their ruts at the same time it’s jokingly called Rut Season. 3 to 4 weeks of prickly, fussy, emotional alphas going around preening, strutting, and competing for the attention of the ones they want to court; a little annoying but more or less harmless. Class 3A is pretty sure they know how it’s going to go, and who will go for who, but it turns out to be far more complicated than anyone expects.

Cacophony by dekued  ( T | 7,710+ | 2/3 )

Izuku didn't mind being an omega, not really. It almost made him unique.

Katsuki minds everything about Deku. It especially starts to bother him when all of a sudden Deku is no longer quirkless and being swarmed by alpha assholes.

[Rape/Non-Con]

What is this? The beginning of a porno? by JiJiHadidnt  ( E | 4,625 | 2/2 )

“Did somebody order a pizza?”

“What is this? The beginning of a porno?”

“Shut up Nerd just let me in.”

Izuku and Bakugou handle their argument over celebrity crushes in an interesting way

Nebulous by ProblematicPercival  ( M | 8,402+ | 2/? )

“I was under the impression we were here to talk about our rescue, not Ground Zero and Deku’s lack of a functional relationship.” Of course, half-n-half managed to condescend to him through the TV, maybe he didn’t have anything going for him.

Or the AU in which Katsuki and Izuku imprinted on each other as children and it only makes things worse because Izuku seeks him out for nestings and Katsuki is a prickly boy.

Shocker by aCoffinIsTheLastThingINeed (THePaRaNoiD)  ( T | 1,408 | 1/1 )

It surprises almost everybody when Bakugou comes into the room one day smelling like cinnamon and apples. The unofficial, unpublished and nonexistent rulebook of Alphas, Betas, and Omegas state that “... in the time where a person of age 15-16 presents their secondary gender, they will obtain a scent… the secondary gender ‘Beta’ obtains 1 scent, the gender ‘Omega’ obtains 2, while the last secondary gender, ‘Alpha’, obtains 3”. - tl;dr Bakugou presents as an omega and everyone is shocked

Series Part 1 of mirum! - BNHA

This Is Me by Daiako (Achrya)  ( E | 2,604 | 1/1 )

Being pregnant kind of sucks. Between desk duty, out of control instincts, a body he can barely stand, and everyone around him turning into even bigger useless fucks Katsuki is kind of over it.

Izuku is...Izuku. Perfect. Loving. Patient. Katsuki hates him so much.

Series Part 2 of 12 days of naughty and nice

[carumens]

expand your literature friday nº1

Author: Ana María Matute

Notable works: Pequeño Teatro (1954), Luciérnagas, eng. Fireflies (1955), Los Hijos Muertos, eng. The Dead Sons (1958), Olvidado Rey Gudú, eng. Forgotten King Gudú (1996).

Obviously, whole theses and analysis could be written about this amazing writer and her work. There will be loads of thing about Los Abel that I would love you guys to know, but that I can’t just include in a Tumblr post. Hopefully, this will be interesting enough to you!

*WARNING. The book I’m going to be talking about has never been translated, so all the quotes and excerpts below have been translated by me.

So, without further ado, proceed and enjoy!

Brief Introduction

Ana María Matute (1925 - 2014) was a Spanish writer and member of the Real Academia Española, which, summing it up, is the insttution that regulates the Spanish language in Spain. It’s a great honor to be a member of the RAE, and she was the third woman in the history of this institution to be conceded a seat in it. She is considered one of the most personal and raw voices of the 20th century in Spanish literature, and one of the best posguerra (which is the period following the Spanish Civil War) novelists. She wrote novels, short stories, children tales and essays. She was considered in 1976 for the Nobel Literature Prize and won numerous literature prices, among which was the Premio Cervantes, the most prestigious literature prize in the Spanish language.

Matute was a professor at university, and she traveled to many cities to give lectures, especially to the US. In her speeches, she talks about emotional changes, the constant changes of the human being and how innocence is never cmpletely lost. She said that although her body was old, her heart was still young.

Here is a small article by The New York Times, published some days after her death in 2014, that contains some more info about her biography and career.

Style

Matute deals with many political, social and moral aspects of Spain during the post-war period. Her prose is lyrical and practical, and she incorporates techniques associated with modernism and surrealism. However, Matute is considered a realist writer. Many of her books deal with the period of life ranging from childhood to adolescence to adulthood.

Matute uses, as a primary resource, pessimism, which, in her novels, often manifests in the form of alienation, hypocrisy, demoralization and malice. About her work, it is said that although the arguments of each of her novels are independent, they are all united by the general theme of Civil War and the portrait of a society dominated by materialism and self-interest.

Also, during the 1940s in Spain, a new literary aesthetic, which came to be known with the name of tremendismo, was born. The main aesthetic features of tremendismo revolve around the experiences of authors during the Civil War, and the misery and insecurity that were characteristic of post-war Spain. Tremendismo is heavily based on pessimistic, determinist and fatalist philosophies; it shows the darkest aspects of life, such as failure and death, and relates them to existentialism. Protagonists of novels belonging to tremendismo are usually marginal beings from the lowest layers of society, with primitive minds and without spiritual values or sensitivity. They often commit errors that lead them to tragic consequences, but they can’t be blamed because it is society that leads them to act that certain way. In this way, the worst part of human beings, highlited by an unfair society, is shown.

Los Abel 

“I have arrived and nobody waits for me, because I have not warned anyone and I do not know anyone. It is difficult to define contours. The town, sunk in the bottom of the valley, is a ghost of violet lividness: like an unfortunate overcrowding of half-ruined hovels.”

Los Abel (1948) was Ana María Matute's first published novel and is, to this day, basically unknown. “Why are you going to talk about a novel that is not even considered her most relevant work?” you may ask. Well, simply because I love it, and it was a major inspiration for both my first poemary and my current WIP, Sunflowers at Night. The publication of this work was considered a literary revelation, a fact that would be confirmed in the successive works presented by its author.

Ana María Matute wrote Los Abel, a work that obtained a brilliant classification in the 1945 Premio Nadal, at the young age of 21. Inspired by the biblical story of Adam and Eve, a reflection of the enviroment after civil strife, it’s the dark story of a family living sad and tormented lives, very few of which escape the climate of anguish and exhaustion. Matute manages to create a tense, passionate and even feral atmosphere.

Plot *(WARNING. Spoilers ahead.)

The story is told in the first person by two different characters. The narrator in chapters I-IV is a young man who returns to a town he visited with his mother when he was a child. In these chapters he remembers his first encounter with the Abel family and then describes the town and the people who live there during his visit. The man rents the old house of the aforementioned family and there he finds the diary of Valba Abel, one of the sisters who lived there. So, the second narrator is Valba, or more precisely, chapters V-XXIX represent her personal diary in which she tells the sad story of her family.

This story takes place in a post-war rural landscape, where the family, formed by the father and his seven children: Oswaldo, Augusto, Tito, Valbanera, Juan Nepomuceno, Octavio and Ovidia — who prefer to be called by the nicknames  Aldo, Gus, Tito, Valba, Juan, Tavi and the youngest simply, the Small One — all with very different personalities. Their mother has died and the father tries to maintain the unity of the family, using their land and house for that. However, life in a poor monotonous rural area  is not enough for young people who show different abilities and have their own interests. Only the older brother, Aldo, is interested in cultivating the land and continuing with the traditional life of their parents: the other siblings want to escape from the village and live in the city.

After some gray and depressive winters, the children leave, one after the other, the orchard of their father, and move to the city. There they try to start new and different lifes, but their destiny takes them back to the village, where two of the brothers, Aldo and Tito, different as day and night, have such serious problems with each other that the first kills the second.

The protagonist

Valba is the representation of the rare girl, a very common protagonist in female post-war novels, who has a lonely character, looks unfeminine to other women and who is looking for her own identity. But in addition to the features that are typical to the rare girl trope, Matute adds to Valba a kind of darkness and depth. The town doctor describes her with the following words: "What deep eyes: a whole world enclosed within. To tell you the truth, I have never seen a look like that. Only sometimes do beggars in ditches have that look, or the hungry. And she looked like a child, with her indecisive hands. She had wolf teeth, hurtful as little daggers.”

After the death of her mother, Valba has to leave her studies in the city and return home, where she has difficulty finding her place among her brothers. She often feels redundant, without a way out and guilty that she lets her life go by without really living it, repeating phrases like: "I felt ridiculous, useless, small" and "I'm tired of not living." Even though she doesn’t like her sitaution, she doesn’t really try to make it better, thus acquiring a typical property of the protagonists in tremendismo.

The few moments of joy in Valba's diary are related to love or with the hope that she would find love. The romantic story with Galo, an artist in the city, offers hope for a happy ending but becomes a failure that destroys Valba's soul and eliminates her optimism for a better future- She feels indifference towards life: "How many hours still extending before me! It is possible that I will still live for many years; what a great tedium youth is, how a great tedium, a whole life still to be traveled, to drag behind me! "  Valba also loses the ability to see love as something pure and beautiful: "I was like the top of a mountain. If I ever loved again, my feeling would drag a chorus of ridicule and parodies."

The violent and extreme situations are typical of tremendismo. In the case of Los Abel it’s not so much about violence as it is about death and intense moments forming a continuous chain during the story. Valba's narrative begins with the death of her mother who leaves her husband and seven children behind, some of them very young, who have to grow up under the harsh guidance of their father. To this event follows the death of the village’s teacher and although no one really cries for him, it is an adversity for the people. Later, Juan gets sick and ends up crippled. Then, when the littlest sister is preparing for her First Communion, the church is burned. A flood follows the fire: the river rises on its banks and threatens to take the house of the Abel with him. But the house, the strongest link in the family, continues in its place, at the foot of the mountains. In these mountains, Valba's father loses his life later on, and this event marks the beginning of the last chapter of the Abel family. Afterwards, there is no unifying force and the brothers who have remained in the village leave their home one after the other.

Matute completes the book with a violent ending. As we mentioned, Aldo, the eldest brother kills Tito, the luckiest brother of the seven. This crime is caused by years of envy and anger that have been growing inside Aldo. When he gets home and sees that Tito, whom his wife loves, is doing successful restructuring in the land of their parents, he can’t tolerate the injustice and shoots him. With this event, Matute uses for the first time the symbol of the Cainism, the known crime of the Bible, very frequent in her later works.

And so, the novel ends with this sublime piece of writing I felt the necessity to share with you guys:

“The two thunderous shots resounded, much more than the whole storm of our flood. The walls trembled and a thousand cries creaked on the stairs. The two bullets sank into that golden flesh, into that chest that always breathed rhythmically. But what revenge was that? What revenge ...? My God, Tito was youth! And I fell to my knees, and with that blood of his that was already sliding between the joints of the mosaics, I wet my face, as if it were a caress. 

This is what I read."

And...

I really hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! If you guys have any questions, please ask me!!!

Leave me your comments and opinions too!

tagging:  @katabasiss @hepiit @medusaswrites @quartzses @the-idiot-who-lose-you @writeblrs @esoteric-eclectic-eccentric  @leopardsnake-stories