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immortalwandererxoxo · 4 months

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It's me, can't you see?

Pairing: Spawn Astarion x F!Reader/Dark urge

Summary/Setting: “You thought they knew and saw you for who you were. The nights around the campfire, the jokes and stories you shared, the rounds of constant checking in on them, it was all for nothing. The hate in their eyes was apparent and set for who could honestly trust a bhaalspawn, and perhaps this was for the best. You thought I’d be free of these urges, these feelings, this life. I’m done; I’ve had enough of all this; how nice your last sight on this plane would be, those jewel-red piercing eyes."

Rating/Warnings: Basically for everyone just get ready to cry your little heart out lol

Word Count: 1,903

A/N: Sooo this is the first fic I've written in a while, so please be gentle with me. Honestly, I just kept thinking about this kind of scenario constantly running through my head. I'll be posting this here and on AO3 if you prefer to read it there as well! Currently, I am writing the second chapter on this. At first, I was going to only do one shot but the ideas just kept growing lol

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It was your birthright; that is what the funny-looking butler has said to you. A gift was to be bestowed upon you, but only if you killed the selunite cleric Isobel… the last hope for last light inn.

Your first encounter with her was tense; even being near her brought on a violent pounding within your skull as if it were to spilt any second; you tried to push past it to focus on the vital information that Isobel was explaining in regards to Moontower, it fell on deaf ears, the roaring in your ears started to get louder, your vision began to darken at the edges, no you thought not now! Your finger began to twitch as if in anticipation of unleashing the same horror that claimed the poor bard Alfira.

You needed to remove yourself now. You quickly mumbled about needing a moment to yourself before sprinting out Isobel room and down the stairs and making your way to the furthest edge of the light barrier to try and gather yourself.

“Breathe, just breathe, please just stop; you silently pleased with just you and your horrid twisted mind. You squeezed your eyes tight, though it seemed to not really matter. In fact, it just made the images appear faster in your mind. Oh, the beautiful ways you could rearrange the limbs of Isobel body, bones snapping, eyes all but gone and left with gaping holes of nothing and filled with nothing, darkness, and hopelessness. The delicious fear of condemning these pathetic souls that cling to life only for it to be snuffed out in an instant just if blowing out a candle. It would be so easy.

The sound of footfalls told you that the others had finished up with the Cleric and had most likely come to see why their leader had run out on them.

“Wretched thing, pull yourself together,” You whispered quickly, trying to dissipate the vile thoughts still wracking your mind and readying yourself to answer the many questions probably going to be hurled upon you.

“Oh darling, was that cleric prattling on too much for you to bear? Even Shadowheart had to restrain herself before tearing into her about her love and how much better her dark lady was ha! Astarion says with a

“Ah, my love, are you alright? Darling your hands!

This is what breaks you out of your dazed self. You open your hands to reveal puncture wounds you had inflicted upon yourself. You didn’t even notice your hands had formed into closed fists, forcing yourself to restrain yourself to the point small droplets of your blood had begun to pool a bit in your palm.

“Yes… I.. I’m alright. I just needed fresh air; this shadow curse must do a number on me. You could feel Astarion eyes boring into you. He must have known you were lying, but he didn’t press further, and you were thankful for that. You were not in the right head space to tell him what you had just expressed, nor did you really feel the others would care when you had more pressing issues to address. You must focus on the task at hand and find the nightsong. Your pain could be dealt with later.

“Let’s head back to camp with the others. Gale said he is trying out a new recipe, and it don’t worry; he even managed to find the good kind of wine just for Astarion.

————————————————————————————————————--------------------------------------------------------------

As Gale started passing out the new stew, he managed to salvage together from the stocked-up ingredients you collected throughout your journey; Shadowheart began to explain the current mission and what you had missed. But your heart and mind weren’t all there, considering what happened previously. When would you be rid of these violent urges, these sick thoughts that clouded your mind?

With dinner complete, you did your normal rounds around the camp, checking in on everyone; you were a bit apprehensive in speaking with Astarion, concerned that he would ask you what had happened since you never really did address why you ran out, but no he didn’t even bring it up, you would have thought you would be relived, but a sharp chord struck you within your heart; did he really not care you had thought your relationship with he was making progress or perhaps that was you fooling yourself into thinking someone could love such a creature as yourself.

Making your way to your bedroll and staring up at the pitch-black sky you knew you would not be getting any sleep; the thoughts in your head of today’s events were ever buzzing about.

You were so engrossed in your thoughts you didn’t hear the pattering of talons upon the dirt coming closer to you.

“You called for me, Milady?”

You sat up hastily. Gods, what did he want you to do now, or what exactly were his intentions of coming to you in the middle of your camp?

“What is it now? If this is about killing the cleric, you can forget it. I already gave you my answer; I refuse to be part of such a massacre, you said with a hushed whisper.”

“Your father was most displeased with this kind of outcome, Milady, dear Master; I want only the best for you; you always did need a little push of encouragement with those urges you get; allow me to give you a hand in this, please,” he pleased.

“I don’t need any push or anything from this so-called father I have never met before!”

You wanted him to leave before anyone could overhear you two, and you would have to explain another thing to the group.

“Now, don’t be this way; your father does love you, miss, how he doted on you so tenderly when you were but a babe, and because of this, he is allowing yet another chance for you to redeem such an egregious display you have made of yourself.

Your hands begin to feel clammy and freezing; the building anxiety takes hold of your body and starts to stir. What is that will do? More importantly, is this something that harms others?

You catch the glint of silver with little red specks encircling something within his clawed hand. It looks to be a coin?

“Here is the deal, master: if this coin falls upon heads, your favorite person will be brutalized! This normally would have been your punishment and a token to your father and would allow this minor transgression with the cleric to be overlooked. If it lands upon tails… no, you know what, master? I shall let you find out personally what awaits you; this will be my little push to steer you in the correct direction for you to grab your inheritance.

A flash of anger flared up within you. “No, what is the second choice tell me now!” Panic filled you as if the first choice was not bad enough; something worse awaited you, leaving you in the dark.

“Oh, don’t be like that, Milady. Be patient here; I’ll toss this coin, and we shall see what fate has in store for you.”

With the flick of his finger, the coin spun in the air. The fear and anxiety that you felt waiting on this damn coin to fall, you tried to make a plan of some sort on how to deal with the said potential of having to kill either Astarion, your lover, or dear friend Shadowheart.

“Oh, master! You are Truly cursed with the most delicious tragedy.”

Your eyes widened, and your heart sped up. Gods, what side did the coin land on? Were you fated to kill your sweet love?

“Now, Milady, stay still. I don’t want to miss.” Scelerita’s hands began to glow red, even his eyes;

Beneath your feet, a red glow, a red circle outlined with what seemed to be blood drops arranged in a perfect circular motion on the outermost circle were some ancient ruins, ones that looked familiar, but you had no time to possibly read them before you felt the excruciating pain of your bones breaking in multiple places, your joints snapping, stretching, your skin being pulled into various directions to cover long new limbs you seemed to be growing, Gods it HURT,

Two additional arms shoot out from your sides. Each hand is morphed into sharp, long, talon-like claws. You feel the sharp spikes and horns poke and prick your entire body, from your head, arms, and legs to the tip of your now-said tail. Great long horns jut out from your now spikey head, and you feel something dripping. It seems to be slick blood from your former form. It’s a miracle you think to yourself that you are not dead from blood loss or, at the very least, shock from the horror show that you are becoming.

But honestly, the worst part of this horrid transformation is the one relating directly to your mouth: two large tusk-like horns protrude out from your would-be former jaw that now splits into somehow four splits of skin that are all surrounded and arranged by pointed and thorny teeth that could shred something or someone within seconds.

“Oh, my Master, you truly are a sight to behold; how I missed this form of yours so dearly! Such a strapping young behemoth.”

You attempt to scream for help from your companions; however, it quickly becomes apparent that you cannot speak within this grotesque form. What were you to do now that you were transformed into a monster?

“Master, this will surely be something you can finally make your father proud of! I can see in your eyes that you are waiting for an explanation of what you are meant to do with this new, beautiful form; allow me to get this started. "

Your now small demon butler has waved his hand and conjured up an illusion of self-disguise into a near-perfect replicate of Gale?! He then opens his mouth, and much to your horror, what he screams out next in a voice. That sounds exactly like him.

“What is that monstrosity?! Everyone! Wake up! There is an abominable monster readying to attack the camp, and they have our leader!” screams the illusion-like Gale.

Your heart begins to plummet into the pit of your stomach, and you quickly understand what this sick lesson is meant to teach you. Your father expects nothing to stand in his way. It does not matter if they are the ones that can help you reach the Baldur’s gate. If they are holding you back from your “gift,” then they must be dealt with, and what a perfectly twisted way for them to be under the guise that this monster has taken their precious leader and must kill it.

You can only watch in horror as you look out to see the flames in camp start lighting up and the yelling and harsh footfalls quickly approaching your location. In the distance, you hear Karlach’s battle cry and the others gathering their weapons.

You swiftly turn your head to see your butler’s face, only for him to give you a sick and cruel smile on your friend’s face. “Have fun, milady, your father, and I wish to see some excellent results from the child of Bhaal.”

And then he is gone, leaving only behind thick smoke and the damn coin laying tails side up.

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drarryweasley · 5 months

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HP Rec Fest - Part 1 (Days 1-16)

Boy, has it been a moment since I've gone through my fanfic bookmarks. Thankful that @hprecfest has given me a reason to do so and rediscover some old gems!

Anyways making this list made me realize that I'm a connoisseur of explicit content so most of these are smutty and I'll leave that up to you to decide whether that's good or bad

(These are almost exclusively post-war fics where everyone is an adult, unless otherwise stated!)

1. A favorite fic under 5k: If We Lie Like This by everythingokay

(Harry x Charlie Weasley, rated E, 4.1k)

Harry/Charlie is one of my absolute favorite ships of all time, and this is one of the sweetest pwps I've ever read of them, so you know this had to be my first rec.

2. A comfort fic: Lumos by birdsofshore

(Drarry, rated E, 41.5k)

This is one of my oldest bookmarks, and still one of the best. I love, love, love eighth year fics, in no small part because of this one. The summary really says it all:

"Harry never expected to spend eighth year listening to Draco Malfoy wanking."

3. A podfic

I've truly never listened to a podfic in my life, I just prefer reading I'm sorry

4. A fic with art: What Have You Been Hiding Under Those Robes, Professor Malfoy? by Booktopus

(Drarry, Rated E, 15k - art is NSFW!)

Finding art in my fics is such a rare, exciting surprise, especially because I rarely go looking for them. Now, a GIF? And a smutty gif at that? Of tattooed professor Draco? What. A. Find.

5. A non-AO3 fic: The Lust of Gryffindors by Fearful Porpentine

(Harmione + so many pairings/groupings, rated M, 381.5k, aged-up during canon)

Yeah, I'm pretty much exclusively an AO3 girlie, so I don't have many options for this one. Still, this is a standout as one of my favorite smutty extravaganzas.

6. An unreliable narrator fic: Touch by bixgirl1

(Drarry, Rated E, 45k)

I had this fic on my TBR for so long before I actually read it, and when I finally did, I was KICKING myself for waiting so long! I love touch-starved characters finally getting what they need (is it self-fulfilling? perhaps), and I never thought a sleep-deprived Harry could be so funny.

(I'm aware this is an unreliable narrator in the loosest sense of the word but I'm sticking with it because it NEEDS to be recced)

7. A canon-compliant fic: With the Edges Worn Down by MayatheBee

(Harry x Ron x Hermione, rated E, 13k)

By "canon-compliant," we mean "takes place so far in the future that canon can't disprove it," right?

If so, then here's my pick. After Ginny's death, Ron and Hermione decide to finally act on feelings that have been ignored for their entire friendship. It is so, so sweet and so, so hot.

8. A canon-divergence fic: Safe Word is Devil's Snare by ShayaLonnie

(Neville x Hermione, rated E, 97k)

Hot Neville Agenda? Hot Neville Agenda.

Neville is fast becoming one of my favorite characters in fic (both in reading and writing). I'm a sucker for him growing into his self-confidence after the war while still being the same loveable plant guy we know. And a forced marriage with hyper-competent Hermione? Get ready for the spice, y'all.

9. A rare pair fic: 93 Diagon Alley by Schmem_14

(Harry x George, rated M, 30k)

I'm quickly realizing that most of the fic I consume (outside of drarry) is rare pairs, but this is one of the best. Harry and George leaning on each other through their grief, and realizing what they need to get through said grief is, in fact, each other? Sign me up. I usually avoid stories that feature Fred's death as a significant plot point, but this is too well done to ignore.

10. A fest fic: Beware: Naked People Ahead by SonnenFlower

(Lots of pairings, rated M, 6.6k)

I’m recommending this fic not only because of the absolute hilarity of the premise, but because it is a part of one of the best fests I’ve ever come across — the Hermione’s Nook Naked Weasley Fest! This fic had me laughing the whole way through (and crying when I wasn’t.)

11. A dark fic: Whore by orphan_account

(Harry x Fred x George + noncon, etc, rated E, 141.6k, takes place during canon)

Listen, I don't read dark fics very often. They tend to crush my soul and spin me out. This is my "I want to hurt" fic — SO MIND THE TAGS.

12. A WIP you're following: New Blood by artemisgirl

(Pairings still evolving, rated M, currently 1.3 million words, takes place during canon)

As a general rule, I don't read many in-progress fics (this is a personal fault because I get too impatient and invested). But when I started this fic, it had over 1 million words and didn't seem to be stopping anytime soon, so I took the plunge. It features a Slytherin, overpowered, badass Hermione, deep fae/wix lore, and a unique twist on all our favorite characters!

13. A fic with over 100k words: Finding Sophrosyne by mlfoyskhione

(Drarry, rated T, 136.5k)

An eighth year fic where everyone in Hogwarts falls into an unwakeable sleep...except Draco and Harry. Absolutely delectable.

14. A favorite series: Harry Potter & Seven Years of Chaos by Severitus812

(Harry x Fred + Severitus, unrated, 1+ million words; takes place during canon)

When I started this fic, the first six parts were published and part of the seventh. I DEVOURED them in a week, and I still haven't gotten around to finishing it because I'm positive it's going to break my heart. Still, an absolute beast of a story that is so, so fun to experience!

15. The most recent fic you bookmarked: The Best Laid Plans by Drarrymadhatter

(Drarry, Draco x George, Harry x Fred, rated E, 6.6k)

Okay, I’ve bookmarked entirely too many fics since the start of this fest, so to avoid repeats, I’m recommending the last fic I bookmarked BEFORE then. Based on my url, it couldn’t be more perfect — Draco, George, Harry, AND Fred? Absolute perfection. Sexy, sexy perfection.

16. A fic that made you laugh: I WANNA SEE SOME ARSE by thefrancakes

(NottPott, rated E, 10.5k)

From the title of this fic through the end of it, I was laughing. And where I wasn’t, I was fanning myself because. Hot. Damn. I’d never shipped Harry and Theo Nott until reading this.

So many excellent fics here...and yet I'm even MORE excited about the next set of prompts! Until then!

#hprecfest2023 #drarry #harry potter #draco malfoy #charlie weasley #george weasley #fred weasley #neville longbottom #hermione granger #ron weasley #theodore nott #ao3 #fanfic

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1lostsoul0fishbowl · 7 months

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Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by the absolutely lovely @staceymcgillicuddy and my wondrous darling @pearlypairings - thank you both! 🥰

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

15, 13 of which are complete and the last two very nearly finished. 😭

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

365,528 and counting. I’m a rambler!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Only Stranger Things… nothing else has grabbed my attention quite the way s4 did.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

With a Little Help From My Friends (my ultra-long found family fic)

Why Should I Cry For You (that one surprised me, it came from way behind!)

Not-so-iron Maiden (Eddie & Max sibling supremacy)

Tattoos and Trash Talk (Eddie and El bonding)

the shield and the shepherd (my very first fic! Eddie and Chrissy falling in love without Vecna in the way)

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

I do! I’m absolutely tickled every time somebody likes something I wrote enough that they take the time to leave me a comment about it. I’ve even made a few friends that way!

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

Probably Into the Shining Sun? Even then, it’s angst with a very hopeful note to it. There’s enough angst in my real life; I like everything in my fics to turn out okay.

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

So far, With a Little Help, because it ended with Eddie and Chrissy’s wedding!

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Thankfully, I haven’t. I honestly think it will break my heart if it ever happens. I stumbled completely by accident across a post here on tumblr hating on GreatMage and I literally cried about that for two days. (Shameful!)

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

Nope, I live firmly in the fluff zone. All of my fics are rated a very mild T.

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

Haven’t tried one yet, but maybe someday, if I can think of a good idea!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of. How would I even know that? 🤔

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

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

Not yet, but @pearlypairings and I have kicked around a few fun ideas and someday we are going to make Clarkelley happen!

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

This is a nearly impossible question.

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

I’ve only got two WIPs and they’re both almost done, so— none!

16. What are your writing strengths?

Omg, I don’t even know, honestly. Umm… I guess building friendships and relationships between characters?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Anything outside of my comfort zone. I have a tiny little box I tend to stay in, and refuse to even try branching out.

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

With the help of Google Translate, I’ve scattered some bits of Welsh dialogue here and there throughout Next Time I Fall. Apparently I got most of it wrong. So I don’t think I’ll try any other languages unless I’m actually familiar with them!

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Probably X-Files? And then there was that random embarrassing NSYNC stuff… we won’t talk about that. Those were all just scribbled in old journals, though. I never actually posted anything publicly until I found Ao3 last year.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

I think each one is my favorite while I’m working on it! But I think I have to say Next Time I Fall, because the response to it was so much more than I expected, and people’s engagement with and investment in the story has given me so much joy.

Randomly tagging @tnmdfhgkg @saltyseagoat83 @sokkas-first-fangirl

and for anyone else who sees this and feels like sharing, 🫵 *boop* I tag you!

#stranger things fanfiction #ao3 writer #hellcheer #greatmage #fluffy fic #losty writes

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batsimph · 1 year

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A few things about the blog:

Hello, I'm BatsimpH on Twitter and MsOdds on AO3. I made this blog to archive my fics and (some of) my arts, and of course make new friends if I can. Here are some infos about the blog and me:

I simp Bruce Wayne (evidently), and mainly ship Superbat with side AllBat (Bottom Bruce) so if it's not your cup of tea, please move on and save yourself the headache

I archive my arts and writings on this blog. I will only post my SFW art here, but I will link all of my Batman-related AO3 fics, some of which have TW contents, I will put warnings in front of each of said fics

Other than that, let's keep things amicable and harmonious.

***

Fics archive

Here is a list of all of my Batman related fics on AO3, with statuses (ongoing, complete, on hiatus...) , ratings, summaries and warnings. This will be updated in real time.

I. One-shots

1. Smothering Love: On how Batman's hugs are deadlier than his glares

When Bruce was still with the League of Shadows, he had the habit of breastfeeding Damian whenever he started crying. It was the only experience the Omega had with consolidating children. Coupled with the trauma of losing him, it stuck. In the end, four Robins (plus one lucky Kryptonian) suffered. (Bruce gives the worst hugs ever. Robins are embarrassed. Clark wants to be smothered by his best friend's chest, he just doesn't know it yet.)

Rating: Mature (no explicit sexual content)

Ship: Superbat, side-KonTim

Note: ABO, past-Mpreg, good parent Bruce Wayne, BOOBAS

This was my first ever Superbat fic and to this day it's still my most read one, despite being ABO, it's lighthearted w some angst and humor and crack

2. Merry it is, while summer lasts.

Bruce joins the Justice Lords when the first of the dog roses blooms. He leaves when the last has wilted and rose hips grow in clusters on spiky tree branches. His loyalty to Kal lasts a season, but his love for Clark survives a lifetime.

Rating: Explicit

Ship: Justice Lord Superbat

TW: Non-con, Coerced Sex

Notes: Medieval fantasy AU, Justice Lord, Dark Clark, Whump Bruce, secret marriage

This is a rather dark and Angsty fic, inspired by a middle-English song called "Miri it is, while Sumer ilas" and dog roses (Rosa canina). I consider it my best one yet.

3. Heated Combat.

"... So why not do it? Why not let his fists do the job? He’d rather be known as a prude than an insatiable bitch..." Every heat, Batman haunts the streets of Gotham and redirects his frustration onto anyone foolish enough to commit crime in his presence. For Alfred’s sanity, the safety of himself and the criminals, he needs to find a different outlet. Enter Superman. (Atypical Omegaverse where heats and ruts only make people extremely horny, or in Bruce’s case, horny and pissed off.)

Rating: Explicit

Ship: Superbat

Note: ABO, Batfam, CRACK, Humor and sexy time

4. Metastatis

Metastasis (n): the development of secondary malignant growths at a distance from a primary site of cancer Clark afflicts him with a disease of the incurable kind, a love so vile that it turns into world-ending hate. And just like the heart sickness that never goes away, Clark never lets him be, either. Three Supermen take an interest in the Devastator. They want to tame him. To do so, they first have to teach him how to love Superman again.

Rating: Explicit

Ship: Superbat (Dark Clark(s) x Devastator)

Note: ANGST, violence, body modification, mind break, Stockholm’s syndrome, suicidal thoughts

This is a requested fic, and a very dark one, read at your own risk

II. Multi chapters

The man of tomorrow who becomes the god of sorrow

“It’s not me you seek forgiveness from. It’s him… And if he were anything like me, then there is nothing to forgive… I’ve never resented Ka-Clark, either.” (“Batman, as your old comrade, I give you one last chance. Disband the rebels and pledge your loyalty to the Justice Lords and Kal. Beg him for mercy, you just might receive it.” But Bruce had remained willfully silent as Diana’s lasso biting into his neck until, until… In hindsight, what a moron Kal-El had been, waiting for the Bat to yield, knowing that Bruce’s body would give out before his mind did) After Lord Batman’s death, Lord Superman crosses many universes and finds him again.

Status: On-going, chapter 6/8

Rating: N/A (no explicit content, some violent)

Ship: Superbat + Superbat deviations (Justice Lords, Injustice...)

Notes: Lord Superman centric, Dark Clark, Multi universes (Justice Lord, Injustice, Flashpoint, Dark Knight trilogy...), Redemption, WHUMP and ANGST

This was my first attempt at writing Justice Lord and fix-it redemption and my second fic overall.

2. Accidental Cohabitation

Clark’s week has been terrible. First Batman rejects him, then Brucie Wayne invites himself into his life. Salvaging his relationship with a moody colleague and babysitting a runaway Omega billionaire? This might be a job even Superman can’t do.

Status: On-going, chapter 4/?

Rating: Mature (Some sexual contents and languages)

Ship: Superbat, past-others/Bruce

Notes: ABO, Brucie baby, Batfam shenanigan, humor, crack and some angst

This is just pure crack with drama and action elements

3. Kings take Queens

Pheromones draw mates to one another and they don’t lie. It’s all nature, but nature doesn't account for parallel universes. Lord Batman finds it increasingly difficult to reject propositions from his Alpha’s double. Batman, an unmated and untamed Omega, has his iron will tested by Lord Superman. Kal will stop at nothing to possess a Bat who won’t betray him. Lord Superman wants to help in his own twisted way and teach the other Kryptonian a valuable lesson. You shall not covet your neighbor’s wife.

Status: Complete

Rating: Explicit

Ship: Justice Lord Superbat, Injustice Superbat, Lord Superman x Insurgency Batman, Regime Superman x Lord Batman

Warning: RAPE, Non Con

Notes: ABO, Dark Clark, Whump, Angst, Justice Lord, Injustice

This is a dark fic, mostly porn and some drama, angst

4. Hit the ground running

Bruce knows that Clark wants to be his mate, but his body and mind are contaminated by Joker’s blood and he’s afraid of tainting Clark with it too. One year after Batman’s death, Bruce, accompanied by his best friend and confidant, returns to Gotham. The short visit propels their relationship along its natural course in a way neither of them could prepare for. When Bruce runs away, he unknowingly triggers a ritual as old as time, where Alphas hunt Omegas down and claim them.

Status: Complete, chapter 3/3

Rating: Explicit

Ship: Superbat, one-sided and past others/Bruce

Warning: Contains spoilers for Arkham games (Arkham Asylum, Arkham City, Arkham Knight, Arkham Origin)

Notes: ABO, Arkhamverse, mating hunt, Angst

Praise Arkham! Batman's thighs. You can still read this without previously playing the games.

5. Dynasty of Frauds

“You can become my mate, or I can put you under Brainiac’s brain control device again. What is it going to be, Bruce?” Kandor’s restoration brings about conspiracies that Kal has neither patience nor finesse for. He needs an ally, and Bruce, despite his many past betrayals, happens to be perfect for the job.

Status: On-going, chapter 2/?

Rating: Explicit

Ship: Injustice Superbat

Notes: ABO, Injustice

This fic is an attempt at royal! AU, takes place post-Injustice 2, Superman ending (Absolute Power), it's a dark fic with hopefully happy ending and fix-it, slow burn.

#BatsimpH rambling

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localplaguenurse · 7 months

Note

I am just nosy, forgive me. Can you describe each one of your mutuals?

Buckle up people and prepare to get complimented >:3c

First and foremost, they’re all absolute sweethearts to me.

There are my irl friends, such as @wretchedshade, @granolabird, @siriuscitrus and @scales-of-stardust or beta as I usually refer to them. I share the same braincell with these people.

Wretchedshade has been my best friend since we were ten, we’ve been there for each other for 11 years. I initially got her into anime, and then she got me into jojo, and every once in a while we cry about Doukyuusei again. She’s a great artist and is really good at writing sad shit, which is why I write sad shit; to have the glory of finally making her cry. She kicked cancer’s teeth in a few months ago so it’s about goddamn time something good come her way and I WILL fight someone on that.

Granolabird is the dm for my dnd campaign, and like I said, absolute sweetheart, chaotic adhd haver (actually like most of my friend group is like this lmao we’re all queer and neurodivergent). Either way, we used to share thoughts on each other’s original stories, and we still do sometimes but it’s mostly just sending each other tiktoks/reels like “this you” or “this your oc.”

Siriuscitrus is usually pretty hyper, but also tries to be v considerate of everyone’s feelings. If you said that the McDonald’s employee put pickles on your burger when you said no, they’d probably be the one to tell them. They’re also scarily good at vibechecking people and told me I give “future he/they vibes” and like a week later I said “fuck you’re right oh my god.”

You’ve probably seen me and beta’s interactions on here or in the ao3 comments. We enjoy our like playful rivalry/enemyship. I like to torment tease her and she usually gets me back pretty good, it’s all in good fun. It’s also really funny to me whenever we meet up, I tell myself “you are friends with them for reasons other than fic so do not make it about fic” and then we’ll spend literally hours talking about and brainstorming fic ideas. It just Happens.

I’m also gonna add @memory-mortis into here because while we’ve not met irl I’ve introduced him to my friend group. Yet another sweetheart, love her art style a lot, and she was one of the first comments I got on ginkgo trees to motivate me to keep going. I was kinda worried about bringing him into my friendgroup because like if I’m not overthinking I am not thinking At All. I was super relieved and happy that she like IMMEDIATELY fit in with everyone so :D

For some of my other close but only on tumblr/ao3/outside my general friendgroup mutuals! (There are too many so I’m sorry if you’re not here it’s mostly people I interact with more regularly ;-;)

@crimson-ashes who I have occasionally with absolute love called my “askbox gremlin” because they live in my inbox. I need to stress this is affectionate because genuinely, I love opening tumblr and seeing I’ve got asks from them. They gotta stop posting Astarion though because I’m feeling So Tempted to play BG but I know my laptop would kill itself (joking).

@crystalflygeo and I know I’ve called everyone sweethearts but genuinely, she’s probably one of the sweetest people I’ve had the pleasure of talking to. She’s really wholesome (unlike her writing which is never gonna be a complaint in my book, good soup) and super supportive of other people.

@madamemachikonew who’s super polite and really kind. She’s also really creative/smart when it comes to referencing real world art and philosophy in her writing and integrating it into her own worldbuilding. I would have never thought to have done that, and it makes her writing very unique!

We don’t interact as much but @probably-doesnt-exist, @ethve, @euniveve and @ainescribe are such talented artists and super sweet, have literally made me screech and cackle with utter joy whenever they draw the characters from ginkgo trees. I rotate through which art becomes my phone’s lock/home screens.

This is long af but fuck it, I wanna brighten people’s days and I told myself to say “I love you” to my friends and family more, so consider this one big “I love you!” to y’all. It’s a pleasure talking to y’all!

#ask #I maybe should’ve gone back to bed and answered this later #but screw it #I should maybe go back to sleep though

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1moreoffkeyanthem · 4 months

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So 2024 is almost upon us, and I wanted to acknowledge one of my favorite things about 2023: starting to write fanfiction lmao. So I figured I’d do a

PastorCraigEnjoyer Ao3 Recap!

Total works: 70 (I’m insane)

55 oneshots (not including Style Week)

Series: 4

11 Stick of Truth stories

Most kudos: How We Began

Most comments: And The Lighting Cracks The Sky

Most hits/bookmarks: also How We Began

Longest work: The Webs In The Rafters (24,478 words)

3 TFBW stories

Most written pairing: STYLE (ofc)

Work that made me cry the most writing it: We’re Gonna Sing It Even So

Favorite character to write from: Kyle (Stan is a close second)

Favorite AU: OrangeJuiceVerse

1 OC (Moose the cat lmfao)

Least favorite work: Of Wars Waged And Won (it was my first work and it’s ASS I didn’t know how posting on ao3 worked it’s very Wall Of Text and I kept spelling shit wrong but I’m too much of a hoarder to delete)

Works that meant the most to me: Broken Bottles From Apartment 2, How We Began, And The Lightning Cracks The Sky

Favorite oneshots: We’ll Get By, Gallons Of The Stuff, And Send It Soaring, Meet Me At The Edge, While The Dew Is Still On The Roses, The One Habit I Just Can’t Kick, All The Punches That I’ve Thrown, One Less Thing To Worry About, 5 Stages, The Motions I’ve Been Going Through Have Failed, At The End Of The Sidewalk

Major character deaths: 2 (I’m only sorry abt 1)

Most bizarre fic: The Webs In The Rafters

No one asked me but ya know, writing sp fanfiction gave me a much needed creative hobby this year. I write exactly what I want to read and have a lot of fun doing it, and have read SO much cool shit from others. Here’s to another year of ao3 shenanigans!

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indeedcaptain · 7 months

Text

Spirktober 2023, day 8: Matchmaker

Remember the good ole days when I could successfully tell a story in under 2,000 words? Yeah, me too. Here is my pass at a matchmaker spirk fic, featuring: Nyota getting what she wants and deserves, the fun of hurt/comfort without having to write action scenes, and Bones being the best.

Also posted on AO3 here!

☆☆☆

Leonard dropped his lunch tray onto the table across from her with just a hint more aggression than normal, and she knew that she was in for an entertaining if not entirely unbiased accounting of someone’s audacity.

Leonard McCoy was not one to hide his complaints from others (one of the nurses was keeping a tally of “I’m a doctor, not an X” statements and there was a long-standing betting pool on which occupations would get mentioned), but Nyota considered herself privileged to be one of the only people to whom he confided identifying information.

“That boy is going to be the death of me, Uhura,” he grumbled, and stabbed a fork into the saddest replicated salad she had ever seen. She hummed empathetically and continued to eat her soup while he got his legs under him, so to speak, for whatever monologue was sure to follow.

“Full of spit and vigor, too much courage for his own good, but not a lick of the common sense that God gave a rock. One of the most handsome men on the Enterprise, even if that’s not to my taste, but I’ve heard enough of the ensigns crying over him to their friends at one point or another in the maintenance closets. Hasn’t dated seriously in years, despite desperately wanting to be in a relationship, and yet! And yet! When he comes to me and says, ‘Bones, I’ve fallen in love and I think it might be the forever-type,’ and I say, ‘Well, you damn fool, aren’t you going to say something?’ And He says,” and Bones pressed his lips together in a manner that made his eyes seem more protuberant than normal. “And he says, ‘No, I don’t think I will!’ Can you believe it?”

“No, I can’t,” Nyota murmured, and she smiled conspiratorially at him. She started narrowing down the list of candidates. One of the most handsome men on the Enterprise could be any number of people, depending on one’s proclivities, but she knew Leonard liked a blonde as much as the next man. Courage, with no common sense? Well, every man on the Security staff, certainly, and most of the bridge crew besides. But who among them were unpartnered?

“You know him,” Leonard said, accusatory, and jabbed his fork in her direction. “You know that he would be a wonderful husband to anyone who didn’t mind playing second fiddle to the Enterprise.”

“I know,” she said, though she didn’t. “But good luck finding someone who doesn’t mind competing with and losing to a ship.”

“That’s the worst part! Or the best, depending on which way you look at it.”

“What makes you say that?”

“He’s in love with maybe the only person more dedicated to his duty than he is.”

There was a little click in the back of Nyota’s head, similar to the sensation she felt when the puzzle pieces of a language’s syntax slotted into place for her. Leonard finished his salad and tossed his fork down onto his tray. He pressed both palms to the table and leaned towards her. She leaned in towards him, unwilling to miss a single syllable or inflection. She had to know.

“Let me tell you, Miss Uhura,” Leonard said, and stood up. “Mr. Spock is going to leave our damned captain high and dry if he can’t buck up the courage to say something before some nice Vulcan woman tries to fill T’Pring’s shoes.”

Confirmation. Nyota did not let her face show that this was new information to her. “But what if Spock doesn’t love him in return?”

Leonard scoffed. “Find me a man who looks at anyone the way Spock looks at Kirk and tell me that he isn’t in love.” He nodded to her, bussed his tray, and vanished through the officers’ mess doors back down the hallway that led to Medbay.

The Captain was in love with Spock?

Well, that was certainly interesting news. She would have to pay closer attention to the way that Spock looked at Kirk in return. If she couldn’t read Spock’s body language better than anyone else on this ship, she would resign her commission and go home. She considered Spock a good friend, and he had never mentioned anything to her about being smitten, though she didn’t think Vulcans had a word for anything close to that. But would he mention it at all? Or would he prefer to keep it to himself, if he had developed romantic feelings for someone?

She resolved herself to acquire new information, solely through legitimate means, of course, to determine if Leonard’s gossip was true. And she was only going to collect information. She had a policy against meddling in the affairs of others. If they couldn’t work it out on their own, that was their business.

☆☆☆

Nyota watched Kirk and Spock carefully over the next three shifts. They were respectful of each other, perfectly matched teammates. Spock balanced Kirk’s more impulsive decisions, and Kirk’s nonlinear thinking pattern pushed Spock to consider the merits of new ideas. They were good for each other, as they had been for years. But it was only as she watched them carefully that she witnessed how Kirk looked at his first officer when his back was turned. The captain, under Spock’s careful gaze, was professional, warm, guarded. The moment Spock had turned away, or turned his formidable focus on someone else, Kirk’s eyes softened, his smile relaxed. He was in deep.

What Nyota could not tell, though, was whether or not Spock felt similarly. He allowed Kirk his friendly touches --- a hand on the shoulder, a tap on the arm --- but tolerating the easy affection did not necessarily imply that he welcomed it. When he looked at the captain, Nyota could easily see his affection and respect. But was that friendship? Or something more?

When Spock requested the pleasure of her company in his quarters a few days later, she readily accepted. This was not an unusual request, as he had been teaching her the Vulcan lute and she was introducing him to Earth’s classical music, but she had never before approached their time with a covert mission. When she arrived, he replicated her a cup of the tea she preferred (chamomile, with lavender and honey) and brought down his lute from its place on his bookshelf. They had been working through children’s songs, but she was finally starting to feel as though her fingers knew where to go. In exchange, she introduced him to a new one of her favorite pieces: the overture to Swan Lake. He liked dark music, minor keys, percussive stringed instruments, and she thought he might enjoy the melancholy nature of it.

“It is beautiful art,” he said, when the last notes had died away.

“It is usually accompanied by ballet. We should see if any theaters nearby perform it on our next shore leave,” she said. “We could have a night on the town.”

“I would enjoy that,” he said. There was something in his tone that few others would have perceived; a distance. He was distracted by something. It must have been a heavy thought indeed, to distract the unflappable Vulcan.

“Spock,” she said gently, rewriting her body language to be inviting, calming, uninvasive. “Is there anything you would like to discuss?”

He glanced up at her from his lute, which he held carefully. His eyes and body said yes but his mouth said, “No, Nyota. Thank you.”

The set of his shoulders was so determinedly miserable that she decided a little pushing might go a long way, even if he chastised her for her intrusion later. She had learned long ago the human aspects of his mind needed community even if he didn’t know how to ask for it. “Are you sure? I don’t mean to intrude, but you seem a little… distracted.”

He held her gaze for a minute, deciding. She kept her face on the caring side of neutral. After a period of consideration, he sighed quietly through his nose.

“I have been changed,” he said. She felt the corner of her mouth twitch, but hid it.

“What do you mean?”

He plucked one string on the lute, the note dissonant on its own. “I did not believe it to be possible for me. After T’Pring chose the kal-if-fee and I nearly destroyed the captain, I did not consider finding a compatible mind to be possible or probable.” He looked up at her. “But I have discovered a compatible mind on the Enterprise; so close to my own that if we were to meld, I believe a bond would form spontaneously.”

“Spock,” she gasped. “That’s wonderful. Why are you speaking like this is a bad thing?”

“This is a bad thing, Nyota,” he said gently. “What human would submit to the possession of a mating bond?”

“Your mother did,” she said. “Someone who loved you might.”

“I could never bear to take away his freedom. And,” Spock paused. He closed his eyes. “I do not think that this person is. Interested. In me. In men.”

Kirk, you enormous idiot. “Have you asked him?”

“It has not come up in casual conversation on the bridge, no,” he said. So it was someone on the bridge crew. It couldn’t be anyone but the captain, right? She did not think that Sulu would be Spock’s type. Swords were an illogical weapon of choice.

“We do frequently talk about sex on the bridge,” she pointed out. “But some people --- two in particular --- do not participate at all, because you’re both consummate professionals.”

Spock gave her a warning glare, but she had to be sure. “If I am following your meaning, which I think I am, it would not be logical to assume that, just because he has not expressly stated that he is interested in men, the interest does not exist.”

“I am unwilling to entertain any hope on this front. I believe it would be detrimental to our working relationship.” He did not contradict her on her assumption. Bingo.

“It could strengthen it beyond your imagination,” she pointed out.

“The risk is too high. I will not compromise our friendship for anything in this universe or any other.”

“I know, Spock. But this could be something beautiful for you both. You’ll never know unless you ask him,” she said. “Maybe he feels the same way you do, feels your compatibility, and thinks that you’re not into him. You’re not exactly an open book.”

“And yet I am to you, dear Nyota,” he said, and now she could see the twinkle of warmth in his eye. She knew in her bones that Spock would be a wonderful partner. She had even considered him for herself at one point, before deciding that she was looking for a distinctly more feminine energy. She knew that if he and Kirk managed to get over their egos and fears and talk to each other, the brilliance of their partnership --- their marriage --- would rival the stars in the sky.

“Will you please talk to him?” she asked. “I simply want you to be happy.”

“I know,” he said. “But I want him to be happy.”

In light of new information, Nyota thought that she might have to reconsider her policy of nonintervention.

☆☆☆

Leonard was already seated at their typical lunch table when Nyota arrived. She had been caught up in a particularly knotty translation, and the captain had been concerned their newest encryption level had already been broken. She was running late, and feeling agitated, and was unwilling to beat around the bush any longer.

“Len,” she said. “I need your assistance.”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow at her tone. “Is there a bee in your bonnet?”

“There is,” she said. She dropped her voice. “Has Kirk talked to you any more about his feelings?”

“Only every weekend for the past six months.”

“And there’s been no change?”

Leonard gave her a side-eyed glance. “What’s it to you, Miss Uhura?”

She sighed and prepared to lay her cards on the table. “Correct me if I’m wrong. But the captain is in love with Mr. Spock.”

“Yes,” he said quietly.

“But he won’t say anything because he’s a professional, because Spock is Vulcan and allergic to public emotions, and because he values their friendship too much to mess it up. Am I still on track?” Leonard looked suspicious, but he nodded. “I have it on good authority that Spock feels the same, but won’t act on it because he doesn’t want to subject Mr. Flights of Fancy to an unbreakable marriage bond.”

Leonard’s eyes widened. Then he frowned. “So Spock feels so strongly about the captain that he would bond with him, but won’t say anything because he doesn’t want to force the captain to commit. And Kirk feels so strongly about Spock that he wants to commit to, and I quote, a ‘forever kind of love,’ but he won’t say anything because he doesn’t want to subject Spock to having to deal with his feelings.”

“That seems to be the case.”

Leonard frowned again, deeper, etching every line in his face into stone, before howling with laughter and smacking his knee. “Those two idiots deserve each other,” he said, wiping his eyes when he could breathe again. He took a deep breath. “So how are we going to do this?”

Nyota grinned. Despite his grouchy exterior, she knew she could count on Leonard to be in cahoots immediately. “Listen,” she said. “I’ve read a lot of romance novels, and wooed a man or two. Here’s what I was thinking.”

☆☆☆

Step 1: Forced Proximity (Completed)

Nyota was on her third translated Andorian poem of her promised five when the conniving crewman she’d enlisted instant-messaged her.

> Lt. Karros: K in position. I pulled some wires - no real damage, but annoying warning signals. S being sent to investigate.

>NUhura: Thank you! Keep me updated. Poems being sent soon.

> Karros: THANK YOU

She bent her head back to her translations -- credits would be too easy to track, so in exchange for Lieutenant Karros’s assistance with her project, she had offered to translate some poetry from Andorian to Standard for Karros’s nefarious purposes. And by ‘nefarious,’ Nyota meant only that Karros’s attempts to woo an Andorian stationed on another ship were sweet if ill-timed. Far be it from her to criticize the desires of the heart.

>Karros: K and S both in position. Jeffries tube sealed.

>NUhura: [Attachment: Do You Trust This Sender? Cybersecurity Is Everyone’s Prime Directive.] andorianpoems1-3.pdf.

>NUhura: Good work :) more to come!

When the “assistance requested” message came through from the maintenance panel in the tube Kirk and Spock had been trapped in together, Uhura set up a pretty little software package that sent the request on a very circuitous route through the Enterprise’s brain before arriving at Commander Scotty’s workstation. She didn’t intend to leave the boys in there for long; just enough to get some quality face-to-face time.

By the time the captain and Spock appeared on the bridge, Nyota had translated the last two poems, sent them off to her new favorite Security personnel, and schooled her face and body to reveal nothing except a friendly relief that they had arrived. Body language was a language unto itself and Nyota was nothing if not an exemplary communications officer, after all. Kirk’s eyes were light and his face was twisted up in a grin, and even Spock was not at his most austere. Preliminary success, she thought, and she smiled prettily and innocently at Spock when he looked her way.

Step 2: Hurt/Comfort (Failed successfully?)

Having a new relationship to look forward to on the ship was quickly becoming one of the joys of Nyota’s life. Leonard had deputized Christine Chapel to help Nyota brainstorm and scheme after he kicked Nyota out of his office, shouting, “I’m a doctor, not a kidnapper!” after she tried to convince him to give her chloroform. Despite Christine’s quiet demeanor, she had a wicked sense of humor and few qualms about emotional manipulation. Nyota discovered, to her delighted surprise, that she and Christine also had a very similar taste in novels, especially regarding certain flavors of pulp fiction from twentieth-century Earth.

She and Christine had been planning their next move in her quarters --- figuring out how to lock Kirk and Spock into their quarters without alerting Scotty or giving them time to escape through their conveniently shared bathroom --- when the red alert went off. All thoughts of romance fled from her mind as Christine ran to Medbay and Nyota sprinted to the bridge.

“The Klingons beat us here,” Sulu said grimly as she skidded into her seat, kicking her hapless relief off the bridge. She jammed her earpiece in and closed her eyes to concentrate. His Klingon abilities were good, but hers were better.

Spock and the captain had beamed down on what was supposed to be a quick check-in on implementation of a treaty that had recently been signed between the Federation and the planet’s government, and their mission had gone to shit almost immediately. The governor was dead, it seemed, her seat filled by a Klingon general whose name she recognized from horrible reports of cruelty on other planets. Her stomach turned to lead as she translated his grunts, coming through Spock’s open comm, full of static and wrath.

Then, she found that she suddenly did not need to translate any longer, because General V’Tar had switched to Standard.

“Uhura, what’s happening?” Scotty, acting captain, clenched the arms of the center chair. She switched the audio from her earpiece into the overhead speakers so the rest of the bridge crew could hear. Clever Spock had left his comm line open so that they could hear what was going on.

“You intend to colonize a planet for resources your ships don’t even use? What good does that do you?” Jim, unflappable in the face of danger, sounded genuinely curious.

“This isn’t about resources, Captain Kirk,” V’Tar said. “This is about you.” Nyota’s stomach dropped. Something was about to go very wrong.

“About me?” Confusion, and the slightest hint of worry leaked into Kirk’s words. Nyota’s hand flew to her mouth. She could hear it in V’Tar’s voice: they had been set up. She pulled up everything that she could find about V’Tar on her console and scanned through his known history. Oh no. Oh no.

She called Chekov. “Pavel, you have to get them out right now! The Klingons are here for revenge!”

“I’m trying, I’m trying! The signal is weak --- I almost got them!”

“Uhura, explain.” Scotty’s voice was strained with tension.

“This general was on Organia --- Spock embarrassed the Klingons when the mind sifter didn’t work --- this was a trap!”

Over the comm, V’Tar said, “Klingons believe that the leader is responsible for the behavior of all subordinates. What do you think, Captain Kirk?”

Uhura heard Kirk gauge his response, and he inhaled before saying, “Well, I think---”

“I disagree,” Spock said.

“Oh?” V’Tar said. “You disagree, hybrid trash?” Nyota snarled.

“The captain did not ruin your mind machine,” Spock said calmly. “I did.”

“Commander, be quiet,” Jim said. His voice was brittle.

“I almost got them, almost,” Chekov said. “One more second, medical on standby-”

“I’ve wanted to put your dog down for years, Captain Kirk,” said V’Tar.

“I’ve got them!” Chekov cried. A disruptor fired. Spock exhaled sharply. Kirk cried out, “No!” Spock’s comm link dropped.

There was silence on the bridge. Then Chekov’s voice over the comms: “Got them!”

Scotty roared, “Take us out, Mr. Sulu!” Nyota tossed her earpiece onto her console and dashed into the turbolift. “Transporter!”

The transporter room was in pure chaos. There was a pack of nurses surrounding someone prone on the transporter pad. Nyota heard Leonard’s voice, steady in the storm, calling for hypos and hands and support. “Three, two, one - lift!” A collective surge of movement --- six nurses, led by Leonard, ran for the turbolift. His hands were covered in green blood. Someone called, “Medbay!” The door slid shut and whisked them away.

Nyota turned back to the pad. Jim knelt where he had been revealed, arms resting on his thighs in front of him. He stared into the middle distance, face slack with shock. There was green blood across his uniform, dripping down his fingers, sprayed up onto his jaw and the side of his neck.

“Hi, captain,” she said, and stepped up to kneel next to him. “Can you look at me?” His face turned towards hers, but his eyes were unfocused, staring somewhere over her shoulder.

“He…”

“I know, honey.”

“He took that shot for me.”

“I know, honey.”

Finally, Jim’s eyes met hers. Her heart broke for him. “Why would he do that?”

Because he loves you. “You need to ask him that. But I think you know.”

He shook his head, and Nyota could see unshed tears shining in his eyes.

“Yes,” she said. “You have to promise me that when he pulls through, you’re going to have a conversation with him about it.” She stood and tugged on his arm, and he came pliantly with her. “Promise me,” she insisted.

“I promise,” he said, and he let her tow him to Medbay, let her wash off his hands and scrub Spock’s blood off his neck and face, and she held his hand as they both sat outside the surgical suite.

Leonard stepped out three hours later, more haggard than Nyota had ever seen him. They stood together, and when Jim squeezed her hand a little too tightly she didn’t complain.

“Bones, please,” Jim said.

“You’re a damn fool, Jim Kirk. When he comes out of the trance, you are going to tell him.” At ‘trance,’ Jim and Nyota sagged with relief against each other.

“Who died and made you captain?” Jim muttered, but he stepped in and hugged Leonard tightly before he had even had the chance to wash his hands. After Leonard walked away to scrub down and a little more of the tension had left Jim’s shoulders, he gave Nyota a side-eye. “You and Bones wouldn’t happen to have collaborated on your very specific instructions just now, would you?”

“No, sir,” she said innocently.

“Good,” he said, hands on his hips, and then he dropped the posturing. He scrubbed one broad hand across his face and looked up at the ceiling before looking back at her. He said quietly, “I had convinced myself that, as long as he hadn’t turned me down, I still had a chance. I wasn’t ready to lose that yet.”

What could she say that wouldn’t directly betray Spock’s trust? She was saved from responding by the blessed appearance of Christine, who said, “Would you like to see him?” They followed her down a hallway to a private room. As Nyota passed Christine, the taller woman passed a soothing hand down her back, and Nyota turned back to smile at her. Christine smiled sadly at her and shut the door behind them.

Spock looked so small, lying in the hospital bed. Nyota had never known him as anything but stalwart and steady, her closest friend on the Enterprise. She heard Jim stifle a noise in his throat. Spock’s chest rose and fell, but the majority of it was wrapped in bandages. Bruising spread in green lines like lightning away from the puncture wound, and he was developing black eyes from the trauma of impact.

“Spock,” Jim said miserably. There were two chairs, one on either side, and Nyota steered him to one before taking the other. They sat in silence with Spock as his body healed, until there was a knock at the door some time later.

“Lieutenant Uhura, we need you,” Chekov said. His eyes flicked from her to Jim to Spock. She stood immediately. “Thank you, Pavel,” she said. She bent down, pressed her lips to Spock’s forehead and thought at him, Heal fast. I love you. Then she walked to the door.

Something compelled her to look back. Jim sat with his head cradled in his hands. “Jim,” she said softly, holding the door. He looked up at her, and the naked emotion in his eyes was almost too much to translate. “I don’t think he would mind if you touched him. It might bring him comfort.”

The hope in Jim’s eyes made her heart constrict, and she turned away. As the door closed behind her, she saw Jim slide his hand into Spock’s where it lay near the edge of the bed, and he pressed his forehead into Spock’s arm. “Don’t leave me,” he said, muffled by the stiff cotton sheets. She left them to it.

Step 3: ????

Nyota and Scotty reported the events with the Klingons to Starfleet HQ. “Well, that’s a disappointment,” Admiral April huffed, and shuffled the papers on his desk. “That planet had strategic promise. But I’m glad that Commander Spock will make a full recovery.”

“We are as well, sir,” Scotty said.

“Thank you for checking in. Keep us appraised of any more unexpected conflict, and try not to start any fights.”

“A lady doesn’t start fights,” Nyota said primly.

“But she finishes them, hmm, Lieutenant?” Admiral April’s eyes sparkled before he nodded to them and cut the connection.

“He’s got your number, missy,” Scotty said, and chucked her affectionately on one shoulder.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, and followed him back to the bridge. They had warped to a clear patch of space, a safe distance from any contentious areas, and were awaiting future orders. In the meantime, Scotty had requested downtime for repairs and Nyota was updating the ship’s records on V’Tar and this sector to reflect the day’s events.

Her padd pinged with an instant message.

> CC: He’s awake!

Step 4: Profit

In the spirit of allowing Kirk and Spock to at least start the very necessary conversation between them, she allowed for thirty minutes between Christine’s message and her arrival. Nyota thought that she might have left skid marks on the clean tile floors of Medbay if she had raced in any faster after those thirty minutes were up. She didn’t see Christine or Leonard, and the nurses who did see her didn’t stop her from running back to the private room where she had left Kirk and Spock six hours previously.

She knocked. “Enter,” came Spock’s voice. She allowed herself to melt with relief at his solid, steady tone for one moment before collecting herself and letting herself in.

They were beautiful. Kirk sat in the chair that she had left him in, but his spine was straight now, and his shoulders were broad and square. The light had returned to his eyes, and his mouth curved in an easy smile. His right hand was on his hip, angling him towards her in the doorway, but his left hand was on the bed. More accurately, it was clasped between both of Spock’s, held in Spock’s lap. Spock was sitting upright, the healthy green flush returned to his cheeks. Though both eyes were still blacked and his entire torso was wrapped in bandages, he sat up straight, his composure returned. His eyes, when they met Nyota’s and then slid to Kirk’s, were warm and crinkled at the edges - the happiest she had ever seen him. And was that the slightest hint of a smile that tugged at one corner of his mouth? Leonard leaned against the wall on the other side, arms crossed against his chest, one hand gesturing in a way that made her think that she had interrupted a lecture.

Oh, her beloved, stubborn, frustrating brothers. “I believe we may owe you a debt of gratitude, Lieutenant,” Kirk said, smiling. She waved off the idea and took the seat between Spock and Leonard. Len squeezed one shoulder, and she patted it.

“You can make it up to me by scheduling us for some shore leave, captain,” she said, and Kirk threw his head back and laughed. She brushed one hand along Spock’s forearm, thrilling at his warmth and vivacity. Spock called her “my dear Nyota,” and Leonard called her a mastermind, and Kirk didn’t say anything else about her scheming.

Except for the presence of one little uncharitable thought in the back of her head, it was the best day of her year.

Step 5: Complete Victory for the Secret Gamemaster

Leonard kicked Nyota out of Medbay after the shift change. She complained, “But you’re letting Kirk stay!”

“Kirk is both the captain and Spock’s soon-to-be bondmate. You are neither of those things, and I think you might be wanted elsewhere.”

She rolled her eyes. “I wish. See you in the morning, Leonard.”

“Goodnight, darlin’,” he said, and he shut the turbodoor to Medbay behind her. Nyota took her sweet time wandering back to her quarters. She was so happy for Spock and Kirk, truly. She wanted nothing more than for them to find the love they both deserved in each other. But she didn’t think it was unreasonable for her to be the slightest bit jealous. The past few months had been wonderful, not because she loved to meddle, per se --- but because she had had compatriots. Meddlers-in-arms, after hours. She had had Christine. Now that their mission was complete, she wouldn’t have the same excuse to see Christine at odd hours, scheming in her quarters like they were having a sleepover. She found that the loss left her feeling bereft.

After Nyota was done wandering the halls in her own little pity party, she let her feet take her back to her quarters. She was a grown woman, after all, and could attend to her own needs just fine. But there was someone standing in front of her door; a tall, leggy, beautiful someone. Christine straightened up when Nyota rounded the corner.

“This is a nice surprise,” Nyota said, and smiled up at her friend. “I hope I haven’t kept you waiting.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Christine said, in that surprisingly deep voice that Nyota loved. Her grey eyes glinted in the harsh lights of the hallway. “May I come in?”

“Certainly,” Nyota said, and keyed open her door. She pulled off her boots and stood on the carpet in her stockinged feet, turning to face Christine. “What can I do for you?”

“Nyota, I’ve so enjoyed the past few weeks.”

“I have too,” she said. She watched Christine carefully, but Christine was the only person she couldn’t read. The woman was more stoic than Spock, not that she’d ever say that to either of them. Her shoulders were square, long arms clasped in front of her, weight balanced on both feet. Nyota smiled encouragingly. Is that all she had come here to say?

Christine took a step towards her. “I have always thought of you as a good friend, but I feel like I’ve discovered a new side of you since we’ve started spending time together off-shift.” She took another step forward. “It’s a side I like quite a lot.”

Nyota felt her cheeks warm. Christine was a few inches taller than her, and each step forward made her have to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact.

“If you don’t feel the same, I understand,” Christine said. “But if you do, I would like to continue to see you. Outside of the bridge and Medbay.” She took one final step. Her body language was now unmistakeable: if Nyota would let her, she would close the space between them. Nyota found that she wanted Christine to do it, very much.

Nyota reached across the gap and took Christine’s hand. She smiled at her. “I would like that very much.” Christine stepped forward, laced their fingers together, and kissed her. Christine was warm, and soft, and feminine in the way that Nyota liked. The little sprig of disappointment that had discolored her joy earlier melted away as Christine lifted Nyota from the ground and carried her to the bed without breaking their kiss.

Later, when Christine had stepped into the bathroom to brush her teeth before they went to sleep, Nyota checked her padd. She had one instant-message.

>RealMcCoy: You’re not the only matchmaker on the ship, you know

>RealMcCoy: Tell Chapel I said hi :-)

Nyota’s jaw dropped open as she reread the message and processed the implications. McCoy had bowed out of the planning early in Operation Kirk and Spock. For months he had said, “I’m too busy for these games,” all the while knowing that Nyota and Christine would be spending more and more time together.

>NUhura: YOU SLY DOG!!!

She and Christine sent him a case of Andorian ale.

#spirk #spirk fan fiction #kirk/spock #k/s #k/s fan fiction #spirktober2023 #spirktober #spirktober 2023 #nyota uhura/christine chapel #nyota/christine #star trek: the original series #kirk #spock #my writing

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hopetorun · 7 months

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tagged by @bropunzeling and @postoperation 💕

Rules: Go to your published works on AO3 and list the first fic you ever published there, the last fic you published, any fic that you wrote for a fandom/ship only once, your favorite fic you wrote in the fandom/ship that has the most works, the fic you wish more people read, the fic you agonized over the most, the fic that sprang fully formed from your mind without any effort, and a work you are proud of—for whatever reason.

first fic (on ao3): perspective, a star wars (legends) eu rarepair fic that i wrote for yuletide in 2011 that honestly was like pulling teeth at the time and i don’t think i’ve ever reread. i crossposted and then deleted some social network fic but i honestly don’t remember if i ever backdated any of it correctly anyway so this is probably the first one regardless since i got an ao3 specifically to participate in yuletide in 2011

last fic: make a better mistake, the brady/quinn home by now timestamp i put on here the other day. i don’t have much to say about this really except that it was fun to write out one of the bits of their backstory, which i have a lot of thoughts and feelings about

fic for a fandom/ship i only wrote once: don’t read the last page, broadchurch pornography i wrote in the year of someone’s lord 2021 after rewatching because my mom hadn’t seen it and wanted to. i wrote so much het porn in 2021 and yet i still can barely bring myself to write any of the common slang terms for vagina 💀

favorite fic in the fandom/ship with the most works: well in the summer of 2012 i was possessed by demons and wrote two then-avengers/now-mcu fics but i can’t say i like either of them. i guess i think this one is better, if pressed. honestly i don't feel a need to delete them but i am glad that no one ever seems to read them lol

fic i wish more people read: the sky is big enough, which i feel like i've said before! i really like how it came together but dropping 15k unannounced and unheralded on a medium-sized fandom and peacing out isn't exactly the best way to attract readers 😂 at least it exists for me to pretend is part of the game of thrones canon

fic you agonized over the most: this is kind of a toss-up. on the one hand, it took me the better part of six months to write preference, which clocks in at a not actually all that long 37k, because for mysterious reasons it was just a really slow story for me to pick through and i had to put a lot of thought into what i could do with each scene since the structure (which i imposed on myself btw. i made this problem) is so limiting. on the other hand the actual writing sessions for home by now were easy and productive but the story took ten whole entire months of my life, a major characterization revision just under halfway through, and a major pacing evening-out three quarters of the way through. both involved a lot of crying about whether the story was actually good.

fic that sprang fully formed from my mind without any effort: okay this is a throwback and also such a rarepair as in the only fic in the tag but years ago i wrote jt compher/his college teammate kevin lohan and it was just such an enjoyable story to write because i had a clear vision of the arc and it came together neatly and the non-linear structure meant i got to play with some fun juxtaposition. anyway: instructions for dancing

a story i'm proud of: this is not the end. was this a ridiculous thing to write in any year, much less the year 2020? sure. but write it i did, and it was the first novel-length story i ever successfully wrote, much less completed and edited and posted. and i think it's a nice story! proud of myself for getting over the long story hump and proud of myself for doing it while also doing graduate school. and proud of myself for finding something to do with my time so that my entire life didn't just become work and grad school in 2020.

#i'm not tagging anyone bc idr who's already been tagged but if you feel moved you can pretend i tagged you #my fic

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sunflowervolvimp3 · 1 year

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PLEASE drop your emotional support steddie fics i need some recs

god i feel like i’m really about to out myself but here we go!!!! i just spent half an hour going through my bookmarks and history on ao3 and here are a bunch i’ve loved!! could name more but here’s a handful of fics and series i’ve loved!! sorry this is long!!

literally anything by oonionchiver. my favourite fic of theirs is you’re divine. vampire!eddie post events of s4, very smutty, soooo well written. anything they write makes me cry. like probably one of the best writers i’ve ever seen. just go through their whole master list and spend weeks diving into the hundreds of thousands of words they’ve written HOWEVER!!! their writing is very graphic. pls pls pls take the time to read the content warnings!!!! very very angsty always BUT happy ending literally always guaranteed!!!

money, power, glory by anonymous. this was the first steddie fic i read and i started it back in september and it’s just finishing up now. the characterization is chefs kiss and so is the angst!!!!! also very graphic, (eddie is literally selling blowjobs in a bar bathroom), so pls read content warnings. some angsty moments, i also enjoy the background chrissy x robin in this one.

dom eddie series by eddywow. i’m gonna be real with you this is just straight porn. like not straight porn as in the hets but i mean just. porn. very graphic porn. there is plot interwoven between each one shot but uh. the main event is the porn. but it’s very well written porn!!! and again. read content warnings. each fic in the series has a different theme, so some may float your boat more than others!!!

camp folktale, summer of ‘86 by cairparavels. gay cryptid summer camp in the 80s. enemies to lovers. some miscommunication. literally it’s just summer and they’re gay. it’s fun. everyone makes an appearance. each chapter has a different theme. lots of background relationships too. karen wheeler is a lesbian agenda. just nice and warm and fun.

the shire is NOT on fire by kissesforcas. the party goes to a renfaire!! very good very nice nerdy fun. not super smut heavy but just like. wow. everyone’s happy. steve’s shirtless 99% of the time because eddie designed his renfaire costume and is pushing an agenda. just nice!!

sticky notes by voidpacifist. after all his fights, steve loses his hearing. metal is the only music he can kind of hear. him and eddie communicate through sticky notes. very cute, but has its angsty moments. steve is dealing with trauma that the duffers can’t seem to let him acknowledge in the show. soft!!

send you all my dreams by boundicamuse. this one is so soft and so cute and so unique!!! basically it’s told like. through notes and letters. really no dialogue. and follows the progression of eddie and steve’s relationship while eddie’s on tour. love love loved it.

the most remarkable thing about you standing in the doorway is that it’s you by greatunironic. god. GOD!!!!! this fic takes place in 2002. max asks steve to walk her down the aisle. a lot happens. this fic broke me. this fic made me sob in my bed for half an hour. it actually destroyed me. i thought about it for days after. and it’s one of the best things i have ever read. like it hurts so good!!!!!

#why am i nervous to rec things. i feel like i’m outing nyself.#although i’ve written about a good majority of shit in here FJEKFNDJFN #fic recs

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midwestclover · 10 months

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I’ve got an older tumblr, but made this a seperate one and I seen @callivich post so I decided to answer the questions and find more open-minded people! Expand my horizons more, guess you could say!

Name: Howdy! Names Nova :)

Age: Twenty-seven.

What made you fall in love with Gallavich?: They are both able to relate to one another when it comes to having a big family, with dysfunctional tendencies yet that is also something where the pair are extremely different because one family shows far more agression, while the other still shows compassion and love. I loved the idea of the big bad macho dude softening for Ian as time goes on, even despite the fact he wanted to ‘teach a lesson.’ The two of them bring out the worst parts of eachother, mean while are capable of as well bringing out the good even if the other cannot see themselves as such. Their continuous meetups, and fall outs make me think about the whole ‘their souls are bound to another laced by a golden thread.’ Because in the end? They always come crawling back to one another. Also! I love the idea of Mickey showing hate towards the world in the beginning, softens for Ian but through character development Mickey grows. Something wholesome about them together, growing, evolving and changing for better.

How long have you been a fan?: I would say around 2015 I got into Shameless? So, I’d say since then!

Favourite Gallavich moments/scene?: Oh goodness, there are numerous that are rent free in my delulu thoughts. One of them would have to be when Fiona makes the connections of Ian possibly being Bipolar and needing to go into a Psych, but Mickey wants to take care of him. I can only imagine how straining that may have been on the two of them, yet Mickey went ahead and did it anyways. Another scene would have to be Mickey’s coming out. God, there’s just so many to count! I don’t know why, but them parting ways when Mickey crosses the border. There’s just something so special about their kiss and it makes me weak in the best way possible. But their wedding? Never seizes to make me ugly cry!

Favourite Shameless character apart from Ian and Mickey?: Lip, Kevin and Veronica for sure!

Do you write or draw or make edits?: I have been a writer for twelve years, but haven’t been able to make any fanfics for ao3, yet. But my works will likely be posted here, once I get more inspiration. I do also make moodboards, and random edits sometimes! Depends on the mood. But I am a sucker for aesthetics so. I also do roleplay, so there’s that as well.

Favourite type of Gallavich fics?: Still figuring this one out, once I know I’ll be sure to give my input!

Favourite Gallavich quotes?: ‘Ian, what you and I have makes me free.’ - ‘you’re under my skin man, fuck can I do?’ Both by Mickey. ‘Hit my husband again and I’ll fucking kill you’ this one PHEW, because Ian is saying that to Lip—HIS BEST FRIEND AND BROTHER! ‘You are so much better than that.’ Because goddamn. Dare I say more?

#gallavichintro #gallavich

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rmd-writes · 1 year

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AO3 Wrapped 2022

Tagged by @hippolotamus - thanks lovely! 💖

This year I dove into the 911 Lonestar fandom with a little bit of nudging, and fell hard, while still writing for my other beloveds, Schitt’s Creek and Red, White & Royal Blue - it’s been a busy year!

Works Published: 29

Word Count: ao3 says 216,696 but that includes collaborations, I think more accurately, my word count is circa 179,000

Bookmarks: is this from the stats page? if so, the number is 1,891

Most Popular by Kudos: written by me, it’s to the victor, the spoils (firstprince), overall it’s titles are the worst, we refuse which is a collaboration (also firstprince)

Most Hits: What, like it’s hard? (firstprince)

Longest: What, like it’s hard? (firstprince) at 65,123 words

Shortest: serendipity (david x patrick) at 600 words

Most Comments: What, like it’s hard? which makes sense as it’s also my longest multichap

Fic that made me cry: God, so many, I cry so easily! Almost anything that @indomitable-love has written makes me cry, it’s no secret that I’ve been crying every week over @paper-storm‘s Magnetic North, I also cried over time, curious time by @strandnreyes which is just gorgeous, and there are so many more that I’ve probably forgotten

Fic that made me smile: Strong, Pretty, Big by @missgeevious made me laugh a lot

Gifts: Not sure if this is gifts for me or gifts I’ve written, but I’ve written a lot of gift fics this year! In chronological order:

in my blood like holy wine (firstprince, despite the title) for bleedingballroomfloor hilariously, like Alexis Rose, I completely fucked up the date for this one and ended up posting it a month early because I forgot that Americans write the date backwards and it’s still one of the most ridiculous things I’ve done this year

I want you, I need you (oh baby oh baby) (firstprince) for @clottedcreamfudge

titles are the worst, we refuse (firstprince) for @the-amber-fox

yours for the afternoon (firstprince) for @stardisnightarchive

I knew your love before I kissed you (tarlos) for @welcometololaland

love me as i were forever (tarlos) for @welcometololaland

Collaborations: I love collaborations!

titles are the worst, we refuse was a collaboration with @clottedcreamfudge @everwitch-magiks @indomitable-love @stardisnightarchive

The Enchantment Umbrage (firstprince) was a collaboration with @khughes830 although my actual contribution of words was only about 2-3k of the 25k fic, I was involved in the plotting and editing though.

I was also lucky enough to get to help many pals brainstorming and plotting their fics, which is one of my absolute favourite things to do

Events: Schitt’s Creek Frozen Over 2022 (I’m excited for the reveals, I’m pretty sure a few people suspect it’s me, for reasons) , 911 Lonestar smut week (love this journey for them) and I’ve got a gift exchange with some friends coming up for Christmas (watch this space!)

Tagging: @weathereyehorizon @maxbegone @welcometololaland @strandnreyes @cheesecurdsgravyandfries @three-drink-amy @mostlyinthemorning @cha-melodius @paper-storm

#ao3 wrapped #tag game #rmd writes #schitt's creek fic #rwrb fic #firstprince fic #911 lonestar fic #tarlos fic

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deepperplexity · 1 year

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Prompt: 24. Christmas Party

Pairing: Is there even one? It’s a secret… Read and find out, much like unwrapping a Christmas gift, no?

POV: Second, Reader [+First, Narrator]

Setting: Your home, kinda? More secrets I guess…

Continuation of: 23. Cherishing Joy (and 23 + 24 of RICKMAS 2021)

A/N: This fic, well, my late-night brain surprised me… Remember how I said I couldn’t possibly top the final fic of 2021? Well I think that may still hold true (it was so good last RICKMAS, wasn’t it?) HOWEVER(!) I still managed to come up with something COMPLETELY NEW for the final fic of this year and I seriously hope you will like it, gosh, I don’t know what to do if I disappoint you with this one… If that’s the case, I’m sorry RICKMAS 2022 didn’t end how you thought but for me, with all the new beginnings 2022 offered I find it rather perfect with something old turned into something new. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like this during the decade I’ve been writing and reading fanfiction. Tell me if this has already been done and where I can find something similar if that’s the case please 😂

I’m very sorry I’m five months late… I promised I’d finish this, so here it is. Something different, something new yet old, something I hope will make you ugly-cry but in the end make you feel warmth and joy 💚

As always I have to take certain liberties with the Reader Character, or I can’t write a functional story, but I hope I’ve managed to make the right choices for the majority of you — like having an undying love of Snape for example 👀 And I usually avoid involving other forms of media directly but part of this fics creation is a fanedit I saw a long time ago that I to this day find to be absolute perfection, and it also happens that it’s something that not only brings me immense joy but fucking terrible pain as well since it’s an impossibility. And this fic, this story, is about just that. Accepting you cannot do anything about the impossible but you can find joy in this life and the possibilities within it — even if there will always be things we wish to change and things we cannot see ourselves.

I’ll let you get on with the fic, after all, you’ve waited for months 🙈😅💚

Tags/TW’s: Honestly, there’s no real warnings beyond this fic being emotional af and based on the real you…

Abbr.: Y/N - Your Name

Word Count: 6.5k+

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // AO3 // LINK TREE

You bolted upright. The little blue star glowing atop your table had come from nowhere. It just appeared, out of thin air. You clutched your wrist, feeling the strings from last year beneath your palm. Again? You thought and the joy which shot through you mixed with terrible dread. You remembered the pain from last year, the tears and the goodbyes. The horror of having to leave them all behind, knowing they had all been waiting for you to arrive.

But then there was the purest of joy, getting to hug them, see them, talk with them. It had been more than you could ever have dreamt of. So, it wasn’t really strange that you reached for the star with trembling but quick fingers, was it?

It unravelled, unfolding itself in your hand as if it were made by paper. The faint blue glow turned brighter as the star disintegrated into glittery dust floating into the air. You watched with wonder while I felt my entire body morphing, this is not gonna be pleasant, but what wouldn’t I do for you, darling.

Your eyes widened before a scream left your mouth as I appeared. “You’re-, what-, who-, you’re Helena Bonham Carter!” you shrieked while I coughed out some universe dust. “You know, travelling between dimensions is not comfortable, do you remember that awful feeling of falling upwards?” I asked, tugging on the puffy sleeves of my sparkling white dress with tiny hands before flying over to the window. The darkness outside offered me a hazy reflection.

“Oh, well, this is a rather pleasant form,” I said with a voice not my own. “You’re-, you’re a fairy?” you asked and I turned mid-air, my little wings flapping behind me while the huge dress swished about, all sparkles and shine. “I think, you may have conjured me as a fairy godmother, doesn’t Miss Helena play that role in Cinderella?” I asked while floating forward, being a miniature version of a human. “I conjured you?” you asked and I nodded, a glittery wand appearing in my hand while my dress turned even shinier. Now, I couldn’t very well begin explaining the ins and outs of magical creativity or the flow of magic, nor the many layers of the universe or the way a wish in one world may be granted in another. That was too frikkin much to get into - and you looked kinda shocked, still.

“Next time, try thinking of someone less, umh, puffy, if you don’t mind, darling,” I said with a smile and I couldn’t help but adore the confused blush creeping across your cheeks. At least you seemed to relax a tad more. “Did I fall asleep?” you asked. “Nope, not at all, I can slap you if you want to make sure?” Your hands shot out into the air. “No, no, I’m good, I’m all good,” you protested while I fluttered down to stand on your table, pushing at the leftover glitter with my shoes.

My mannerisms seemed to take after those of the person whose form I was in and I quite liked Helena’s ways of moving around a lot and always doing very loud expressions with her face, very much like myself in my own world. I shook my wand, sparkles coming out of it after a few waves. “There we go,” I said and plopped myself down on the edge of the table, dangling my feet. “Well, sit, I’m gonna strain my neck if you stand like that.” You flopped down on the couch faster than I had expected.

“Thanks, now—” “I’m sorry, but who are you if you’re not her, or a fairy godmother?” you asked and I tilted my head, a tad offended truth be told but I guess the question was valid. “Plex, obviously, who else would I be?” “You’re Plex?” “Well yeah, I don’t look like this usually, but magic is strange and I think since you conjured me into this world I had to take on a form you would find comfort and safety with, one of the rules of magic that’s summoned. The summoned can’t really choose their form, it’s complicated, shall we get on with it?” “With what?” you asked, looking confused yet again. “You’re heart’s wish of course.” “My-, what?”

I sighed and got myself up (not bloody easy when wearing an enormous dress you know). “So, every heart has several wishes, one of those wishes got me here,” I began while pacing over the table, “and given I’m here it has to be a creative wish about Alan Rickman, that’s the wishes I grant, so what’s your wish about him? And no, I can’t get him back or allow you to see him - he’s quite the angel though, I must say, and he’s fantastic at dinner parties, always entertaining.” “You know him?!” you shrieked and I stopped, looking at you in that bored way of Helena’s. “Well, obviously, how do you think I manage to get all his characters so on the nose? Pun very much intended, mind you,” I said with a smirk. “He’s a terrible co-writer, by the way, being a director and all that, so I only allow him to give me five comments per work and that’s it. He’s still rather pissy about me killing you off at the end of Death’s Judge you know,” I continued with a pointed look toward you, “but he’d already used his five comments for the last book, so, whoopsie-daisy, what can you do?” I half giggled and half sighed while shrugging my shoulders in that distinct way of Helena’s.

I looked around, allowing you a moment to stop gaping at me. “This isn’t really festive, is it?” I flicked my wand, getting the sparkles to work again and drew it all around the room, making Christmas lights, candles, little figurines and even a gingerbread house appear with a skating little elf on a mirror made to look like ice. “Much better.”

You were still gaping at me when I turned back; I sighed. “You know, we don’t have all night so what’s your wish darling?” I didn’t mean to be rude but the magic would only last for an hour, and the sooner that hour could start the better I could make that hour for you. “I-, I don’t know,” you said. “Sure you do, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”

You opened and closed your mouth a few times before you shook your head. You seemed all out of sorts and even if I could feel your wish I couldn’t grant it if you didn’t tell me something about it. So, I floated about the room for a moment longer while your eyes followed me. It was strange being seen by you. Usually, I was the one watching and none would be the wiser about it — ever.

“Tell you what,” I said and flew up to your face, “what do you wish for most regarding Alan? That he’d said something specific? That he had worn some specific clothes?” I asked. “Well, no, not really. I just…” “Yes..? You what?” “Oh, I just wish there was more of him, you know… Like, just, more. He left us too soon and now there’s nothing left I haven’t seen of him. And, he should have played more parts like Turpin and Snape, you know, the dark and truly brooding type with a streak of callousness almost. He does-, did those so well and I wish there had been more.” “Well, there you go then,” I said with a smile while twirling away from you, feeling my magic pulse and sizzle within my veins — my creativity already running away with me when my eyes snagged on your bookshelf filled with knick-knacks, figurines, books and movie-related items. There was the standard Harry Potter merch too of course, but that was not what my eyes got stuck on.

“A Disney fan, are we?” I asked with a smirk, feeling things fall into place. “Well, yes, who’s not in love with Disney?” “True, true, very true,” I admitted while nodding and thinking, the tip of my wand tapping against my bottom lip.

THAT’S IT! “This whole time-, but of course! How silly of me,” I chided myself with and turned back toward you with quite the mischievous smile — Helena truly has the most marvellous expressions, perhaps I should take on her form more often? “Umh, what? What’s silly?” “Oh, don’t you worry, darling. Plex has this in the bag! Now, let’s see, we’ll need, some sparkle, some… twirling, annnnd-, there!” My wand turned into my magical pen while the inkhorn, glowing a marvellous shade of purple with red mist coming from it, plopped into existence right at that moment.

My hand instantly began filling the air in front of me with sparkling words. I couldn’t believe the luck of having to grant your wish, the magical force of creativity always the most strong and powerful when shared and wished for by others.

“You still have the strings around your wrist, good, good, good,” I muttered to myself while glancing toward you, your wide eyes seemingly enchanted by the glowing letters quickly turning into sentences and paragraphs mid-air.

“Remember last time you had to hold your breath?” You nodded eagerly. “Well, you might wanna close your eyes and do just that in three, two, one!” I flicked my pen, slashing the air at the end of a sentence and was pulled out of your universe when my creativity alone took over, catapulting you through time and space, sending you to another world nearly identical to your own…

≪⁕≫

Not again! You thought and cinched your eyes while barely having enough time to inhale a deep breath. The pulling around your stomach, the feeling of falling upwards just as horrendous as last year.

You gasped for air as your feet hit the ground. The world spun for a second longer before you managed to open your eyes only to scrunch your eyebrows. “What in the world?” you asked out loud while looking around your own home, your own living room. Yet, it wasn’t. There were little things out of place, small objects you didn’t recognise on your shelves, the windows a different shape and the curtains a different shade than your own. Same colour though.

The TV was on, some strange talk show with a Christmas theme to it. You didn’t recognise the woman who seemed to be the host. Not that it mattered, you were too busy wondering why you felt at home yet also didn’t. Why there were no posters of Snape on the walls or why the room lacked all the details, merch and fandom creations you’d had of him in your true home. Where is-, is this another-, why wouldn’t I have Snape everywhere? Oh god, no, don’t tell me there’s a universe where Alan didn’t play Snape?!

Your reactions made me smirk as I hovered next to you, unseen once more. I was there, but you would never know it. I was waiting, with my heart fluttering as I listened in on your nearly panicked thoughts.

Applauding erupted and your eyes got snagged by the TV. There he was. In the flesh, with his distinct smile and that gentle waving he always did when walking up on a stage or passing fans. Alan Rickman. Alive and well. You gasped as you sank down on the couch, your body instinctively knew where it was while your eyes were glued to the TV.

Your hands went to your mouth, staving off another harsh exhale. He looks… older. Oh my god, he looks older! Tears formed in your eyes while you watched Alan take a seat opposite the host, still smiling widely with more wrinkles around his mouth and eyes, slightly longer and more white hair than before and his belly was there. He was rounded and healthy looking, no sign of the cancer that stole him from your world.

“What a greeting,” the host said. Alan chuckled and your heart stuttered. “Quite the welcome, indeed,” he said and your brain seemed to falter at hearing him speak, new words in a new manner in a new environment. “But we’re not here to discuss greetings and the amount of love the world has for you and your phenomenal character portrayal, are we?” the host continued, her dark eyes alight with appreciation and a hint of wonder while she viewed the man you loved above all else.

Alan chuckled on screen, leaning back and then laughing a bit louder while he gave the audience and camera a direct look. Oh god, he’s alive… He’s alive and well and… happy. “So, now, to the question we’re all wanting to hear your answer to,” the host said while she leaned forward and Alan gave her his attention while you leaned forward as well, entranced by the screen and in utter havoc at seeing him once more.

“Is it a Christmas movie, or isn’t it?” the host asked and your mind got flung to Die Hard, the scene where Alan entered the building with his goons and you giggled at the fact that even in other universes this appeared a question that was repeated time and time again, every December. You knew he’d say no but you couldn’t wait to hear it, hear his voice in this new manner, even darker and slightly raspier than in your world as he was now seventy-nine — six years older than he’d ever be in your world.

Alan’s laugh pulled you out of your remembrance. “Angelika, must we do this every year? My answer remains the same, darling,” he said with a smile and your mind screamed like a school girl at hearing him use the term ‘darling’. The host, Angelika, smiled and asked him to indulge her. “It’s not a Christmas movie,” he said, “it will never be a Christmas movie.” “Yet every year, on the twenty-first of December it plays on television,” Angelika said with warmth in her voice while Alan shrugged and did that specific little lifting of his brows.

“I mean, what sort of Christmas movie has nothing to do with Christmas?” Alan continued while the audience laughed. “There’s fire, death, a manhunt and all sorts of un-Christmas-like things, not to mention the backlash about the romantic interest he took in her, and in this adaptation her of him.” “What?” you asked out loud, sitting up straighter while Angelika nodded and agreed with him. “What romance? What woman?” you asked the TV as Alan leaned back in his seat.

The host turned toward the camera. “Text us a yes or a no, tell us what you think, is Paris In Flames and Lust a Christmas movie? Is this upturned, distorted live adaptation of the classical story a must for Christmas to be complete for you?” she asked the audience and camera and you had no idea what movie she talked of. There was no movie like that in your universe.

“Angelika, honestly, how could a movie about a judge falling in love with the thing he hates the most be a Christmas movie? He kills her and himself in the end, it’s more the retelling of Romeo and Juliette, a tragedy, than that of the Hunchback Of Notre Dame that’s about freedom,” he said and your entire body stiffened. Your heart hammered, your mind turned utterly quiet and the world seemed to hold its breath along with you. As if time slowed down as realisation dawned on you.

“I’m sorry, Alan, but I think you’ll be outvoted on this one,” Angelika laughed along with the audience’s clapping in agreement. Alan simply laughed and shook his head. “I’m grateful for the love this story has received though, with its darker theme and twisting of the original story it nearly feels like the untold story behind it all,” he said and the audience cheered anew, chanting Alan’s name with love.

“Well, we’ll see what the voters say in a few minutes. First, we’ll watch one of the numerous fan edits sent in for this celebration of Paris In Flames and Lust’s twentieth anniversary!” The crowd erupted in cheers while the camera zoomed in on Alan, his warm smile unmistakable. He was flustered and honoured, you knew all his expressions and the way his eyes darted between the crowd and the host had your heart in upheaval.

And then the sound slowly died out, the sound of a song you’d never heard before began to play, the male singer singing in French as the screen went from black to an array of colours, a woman dressed in the most beautiful saree, laughing and moving in slowmotion across the screen while colours were thrown and her face was split in absolute joy as the music turned louder. That’s-, no way! Deepika?! Oh my god, she’s-, is she Esmeralda?!

There was dancing and scenes of people, Notre Dame, a pope and finally, Alan Rickman… you were glued to the TV with tears streaming down your face as you watched the most beautiful fan edit you’d ever come across. The fact it played on what appeared to be national television fried your brain. This was not your world, this world was… better.

The music turned intense and you were lost to the story unfolding before you like a summary of the movie you would never be able to see in its entirety. But the edit had you in its grip as it tore at your heart with it’s beauty, the thought of having something new of Alan, of him playing the brooding, calloused and broken character you so loved him as. The screen lit up with colours and you sobbed as you watched…

[Watch THIS edit by Mina Le Fay before continuing]

Your eyes were brimming with tears, my own heart ached at seeing the pain-mixed joy you were drowning within. But you kept watching the TV as the talk show returned with a roar of applause from the audience as the camera swiped over them before landing back on Alan. I’ll never see it… You thought as he stood and bowed on the stage right before the crowd roared as the camera zoomed over to Deepika Padukone. Alan stepped toward her and they met with a deep embrace while the crowd went wild.

They spoke but the microphones didn’t catch the words and then Alan led her by her hand to the seat next to his. Your heart twisted, her beauty was striking even without the costumes and adornments she’d worn in the movie — which you’d only ever see that perfect adaptation of.

Angelika began speaking with the both of them but you cried and looked through the watery haze as Alan smiled and laughed with Deepika who seemed more than happy to see him again. Professional care and perhaps a friendship between them. He looked so utterly happy and well, so perfectly healthy and joyous. Just how you always pictured him. He was perfection and he was alive.

“So, Alan and Deepika,” Angelika said while you snivelled and swiped at your cheeks to rid you of the overflowing tears. “I’ve heard a rumour,” she continued and smirked at the two who both shared a look — as if they knew where the conversation was headed. “Go on, ask,” Alan said as you drew a shuddering breath. “Is it true you two are currently in the middle of producing the origin story of Judge Turpin where you, Deepika, will play the woman who got away in his youth?”

Your eyes widened, the TV was utterly silent as Alan and Deepika shared another knowing look. “Indeed,” Alan said, “but you have been slightly misinformed. As this tragedy did so well, we decided to do another. So, as you can guess, Deepika will play the woman Judge Turpin loved wholeheartedly and—” “Alan, you’ll spoil the ending!” Deepika said with a laugh while she grabbed his hand. “Oh, the ending is already out there, even if few have read that intricate story. I’m still rather surprised by it, and it being out there in such a way. Freely available… Nothing but passion for the art, just the type of writer I find most enjoyable to work with,” Alan said while the camera zoomed over to Angelika’s shocked face, her mouth agape while staring into the camera. “Not another word, Alan,” Deepika said with a smile and shake of her head and Alan chuckled. “Very well.” “What? NO! Tell me!” you shouted at the TV, desperate to figure out what he was talking about, but the first string around your wrist glowed. No, no, I need forever in this universe!

“Well, we shall all wait eagerly for that story to come to the screen, but do tell, who will be playing the young Judge Turpin?” Angelika said with a gleam in her eyes, hungry for information just like you. “We’re not allowed to disclose that yet, you must wait and see,” Deepika said and you wanted to scream. You needed to know.

A loud knocking came from the door and you jolted. What the— Another round of knocking. “Come on! Open up!” a female voice called, the sound muffled by the closed door. You didn’t recognise the voice though. “(Y/N),” she called out and knocked again, harder. “You’re so slow! I KNOW YOUR GONNA WATCH IT!” Whatch what? You wondered as you snivelled and wiped at your tears as the talk show was cut for commercials.

You walked over to the door, trying to calm your breaths and raging heart. Should I pretend I’m not here? You wondered but there was a pull within you, a sensation that told you whoever was on the other side loved you and was important to the you of this universe. “I swear to god—” another round of banging “—open this door right now! You’re not watching it without me!” the voice shouted and you reached for the handle while I watched with bated breath to see your reaction.

You pulled the door open slowly, but it got pushed open as a woman you’d never seen before entered in a rush. Her hair swished about her face, and her clothes looked worn and perfectly comfy. Much like your own clothes. “What took you so long?” she asked as she dumped a whole bag of snacks and drinks on the floor.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, what do I do? What do I say? You wondered as panic crept along your veins. She just stared at you, her beauty absolutely striking and the gorgeousness of her body — despite it being hidden behind puffy clothes — made you wonder how someone so perfect was in your home. What kind of universe you’d landed in where someone like her obviously had a close relationship with you.

“You’re always so quiet, I swear to god you were broken as a child,” she said with a deep sigh but there was love in her sweet voice, and care. The genuine kind. And as you stared at her, not knowing what to do with yourself she sighed and grabbed the bag anew. “Come on, it’s starting in two minutes,” she said after having glanced at her wrist and you simply nodded, not understanding the emotions that were bubbling within you. They were so warm, so familiar, so unknown.

As you closed the door she made her way into the living room. When you arrived she’d already covered the table with all your favourite snacks, your favourite drinks and some strange candies you’d never seen before. Perhaps they don’t exist in my universe?

“(Y/n), I swear to god, if you’re gonna just stand there and look at me like that I’ll kiss you to snap you out of it. Why have you been crying anyway?” she asked and you blanched. Was this a partner in this universe? Was she someone super important? It felt like it, in your heart. It felt like the woman looking at you was beyond important, but there was a barrier there too. As if the you in this world loved her and it transferred into you but you were from another universe so perhaps the sensation was yours but not yours fully?

“Don’t tell me, you watched the Angelika Realm show?” Your eyes widened. “Ha! I knew it, you’re such a sob, love.” The woman shook her head and laughed, but it was again in that warm and caring manner. As if she loved that about you. But you hadn’t cried for the reason she thought, no matter what reason that was. “Sit your ass down, it’s starting,” she said and you obeyed, sitting down on the other end of the couch as she switched the channel on the TV.

The Fox Century intro filled the screen and your eyes flicked between it and the woman on the other end of the couch. She was just so beautiful and you felt a lump form in your gut, a knot of worry too familiar for you. The comparing started that very same second, the doubt of yourself consuming you while you tried to focus on the TV and not all the things perfect with her and wrong with you.

“God, I’m so excited, every year it’s the same but still, I can’t believe I get to do this every Christmas with you,” the woman said and you looked towards her, only to find her staring at you with a wide smile. “I know it’s selfish, given why you’re not with your family, but I’m so happy I met you… someone who understands the— THERE HE IS!” she shrieked as the both of you looked at the screen just as Alan appeared on screen dressed in a frock coat version of Disney’s Frollo. He was absolutely stunning and warmth churned within you while the hurt and pain stabbed at your heart.

“Fuck me, he’s perfection,” she said and sighed happily while positively ogling the screen. It made you giggle, that spreading warmth taking over more and more while your eyes watered at seeing Alan Rickman in something new, something perfect, something dark and perfectly suited for his portrayal. “What you giggling for? You’re a bigger simp than me,” she laughed and threw a pillow at you. You caught it just in time.

“You know, having you is like the best gift from the world, ever.” Her words were sincere but spoken in a passing manner as she reached for a snack from the table. As if it was something obvious, something she said often, something you were already supposed to know. I’m lucky in this universe, you thought as you hugged the pillow. “You okay?” she asked while your eyes got hooked by the TV, showing Alan walking through a giant church while choir music began to play softly. “I’m-, no sure,” you confessed. Not knowing what to say. You were all over the place and the feelings of real life mixed with those of the other you. “Are you already imagining the scene where he burns her? You’re like an hour ahead in the movie!” HE BURNS HER?!

Your head whipped around, the image of Deepika as Esmeralda burning on the stake filling your head. “Why are you looking at me like you didn’t know? We’ve watched this like twenty times, and for the past five years on Christmas. You’re so emotionally invested it’s almost scary,” she laughed. “God, I’m gonna have to hold you through your bawling this year too when he takes his own life, aren’t I?” she asked and your mouth plopped open in horror.

Alan’s death roared in your veins, the loss of him filling you to the brim as he began to sing on screen. You were instantly entranced as he sang about righteousness and civility, about being in God’s eye and under his command. His baritone voice was perfect, the music effortlessly consuming, and the look of severity he held his features to was absolute perfection. He was made to play Judge Frollo. And I won’t witness it all, I’ll never have that, never ever… The thought was stark and hurt something fiercely as you watched the movie unfold before you.

Tears wetted your cheeks, your teeth biting down on your lower lip. You wanted to bawl, wanted to scream and shout how unfair it was that you’d never have the life of the universe you were visiting. But I knew, deep down I knew you loved the glimpse of the world where he was alive and well. I knew it was painful, knew it would torture you, but also give you a small relief — seeing him again, fulfilling your wish even if it could never truly be granted fully. Death was permanent. No amount of magic could ever undo it.

“He’s so beautiful,” you whispered as the song came to its crescendo. “Perfection,” the woman next to you whispered as you were both enthralled. “I can’t wait to see him in Death’s Judge next year, gosh, he’s going to be perfect… Even if it won’t be many scenes. You know, given it’s the history of him. I bet they’ll only have a few scenes at the end tying it in with Sweeney Todd. But I’m glad it’s Tim Burton doing the movie, I just know he’ll make it perfect and we already have tickets for the première.” We do? I’ll— No, I won’t… Fuck, I hope you know how lucky you are in this universe, you thought as you clutched the pillow even harder.

You blinked, your eyes widening as the dancing Deepika entered the scene, her depiction of Esmeralda pure perfection. You gasped as the scene switched, showing Alan anew, showing Frollo gasping at the view of the dancing beauty — him falling in love at first sight. It was beautiful acting, perfection as always. The story was different from the original one, not a real retelling but an adaptation.

You snivelled and a warm hand grabbed your wrist, pulling you swiftly toward the woman whose name you didn’t know. But in her arms you felt comfort. “You’re such a baby, love,” she whispered and kissed the top of your head with the sound of a smile in her voice. Your whole heart fluttered and hammered but it wasn’t truly your emotions. It was false yet true, confusing yet so absolutely clear.

You sank deeper into her, relaxing in her embrace as you watched Paris In Flames and Lust unfold, nearly forgetting for a moment it would all be ripped away from you, not remembering that the words spoken through the speakers would never ever be hard again for you.

The second string around your wrist began to glow and you jolted, bolting upright as reality sank its shiny claws into you. No, no, no, not yet! “What’s the matter? You’ve never reacted to this scene before? Don’t tell me you’re getting hot for Phoebus too. Come on, we watched one fanedit of him and Frollo and you’re getting all jolted now?” “No, no I-, I have no time,” you exhaled as you wrapped your hand around your wrist, pressing the strings into your skin while you tried to burn the image of Alan as Frollo into the very fibres of your brain. “No time? We have all the time in the world, what are you on about?” “I—” Can’t tell you… Fuck, I don’t want to leave. This feels so right. “You’re acting weirder than usual, I love your weirdness but—”

The world began to spin around you. The TV blurred and the hands grabbing your shoulders were barely there. You couldn’t focus your eyes on her when the whole room looked as if it were breaking down, piece by piece. No, no, no, not yet! I need more time! This feels perfect, I-, I need more time! Plex! Give me more—

All air left your lungs as the hands holding your shoulders fully disappeared, you were falling upwards, your limbs being tugged in different directions while your lungs burned from the lack of oxygen. The sound of Alan singing about love killing him came and went in waves as darkness pushed and pulled at you. You couldn’t scream, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see but you felt it all.

I watched as all the souls of you in a multitude of universes passed through you. Every life of yours that wasn’t truly yours exploded in an array of sensations, burying you like a tidal wave. I used every ounce of magic I had left to protect you from the sensations — but it was a common occurrence. Travelling through universes meant passing others by and souls all across the multiverse in its endlessness were connected.

You left my sight as the darkness opened up and swallowed you whole. You were back where you belonged and my power depleted, my magic consumed. “Good luck, darling,” I whispered to the darkness as I was pulled downward uncomfortably and cast back into my own realm.

≪⁕≫

You gasped for breath, splayed out on the floor in your own home, while everything hurt like hell. Your entire body ached and for a moment it felt as if you were too full. Images flashed in your mind of things you knew you had never actually seen. What was that? You wondered as you sat yourself up.

Everything came rushing back in one swoop. The universe you had visited, the things you’d seen and felt, the love another human had for you, the life of Alan, the new views and sounds you’d been granted.

You cried. Cried and wailed as you shook on the floor, holding on to the memories. It felt like dancing over a minefield, as if any second it all could be ripped to shreds. Taken from you. But it had been real. The string around your wrist was more than enough proof as the third string, from the last star of last year, glowed in pulses. The wonder of that other world still lingered, the hurt and joy as palpable as the floor beneath you.

The realness of it, unlike last year’s adventure, made it hurt even more than the loss you’d felt back then. Last year it had all been surreal, fictional. This was real. There was a world out there where you were loved deeply, accepted fully by someone who understood and he was not only alive but healthy and happy. There were words he’d never spoken in your world, characters he’d portrayed that you’d never know about, movies he’d starred in that you’d never see.

Sitting there, among the remnants of memories, made you feel beyond hollow. Abandoned and alone. There was no more of him in your world. But I got this one hour… I-, I got these memories that aren’t ever going to last, you thought while you drew a shuddering breath and wished with all your being you could have been the you back in that world.

Little sizzling sensations erupted over your skin, everywhere clothes didn’t cover it, and you looked up. Little sparkles floated down from the ceiling in a glittery rain and dissipated as soon as they made contact with something. You looked around through the haze of tears while your lips trembled.

The sparkles began to fall upwards when they made contact with something, becoming a dense mass in the centre. A glittery ball twisting in on itself. “What in the—” your words were interrupted as words began to form midair.

In this world, he’s gone. In this time there is no more of him. Even if it hurts, do not foolishly wish for another life when yours is so precious. The world you just visited may appear as a form of heaven. But did you not see? Your undying love of Snape did not exist. The fanart you adore was nowhere to be found, because in that world you never joined the community. You never went online and found the friends you now have. You never met all the people you love, who love you.

There may be things you wish were different in life, there may be things you hate and writhe in pain over. But do not let the bad overshadow the good. There are things you have done — caused — that you cannot see. How you saved her, how you made him feel seen, how you made them smile — and you’ll never know it. Just like they do not know the way that fanfiction made you feel validated, how that fanart spurred you to confess to yourself you enjoyed a controversial ship, how that fanedit made you bawl your eyes out as you realised you were not alone in your fancasting… Think of all the things you’ve felt thanks to others without letting them know, do you not think it’s the same the other way around, darling?

Do not wish for another life because of something you have no control over. Change the things you can, and evolve in a manner that makes you happier. Have care in your heart for yourself and do not dismiss the good of this life in times of hardship and pain. Do not dismiss your importance in this world even when it hurts you. There is only this life, and it’s yours for the taking. So live it, love it, accept what you cannot change but do your best to be part of the bettering of this world even when you cannot see the difference you yourself make. The only thing permanent in your life, is you. But that does not mean you cannot have a permanent effect on someone else, just like Alan has had on you…

Thank you for changing the world with your existence. Yours through the multiverse, Plex

You exhaled a deep, shuddering breath as the sparkles burst into a display not unlike fireworks before all of it disappeared in a soundless burst. You snivelled and wiped at your cheeks. This is nothing like last time, you thought while you hugged yourself. The remnants of the love you’d felt in the other universe slowly dissipated. Quietly turned to nothing.

You squeezed the fabric over your chest, tried to inhale deeply as you lost the sensation of your other self in that other world. You waited for the loneliness to come, for the hurt and sense of loss to take over. But the sparkling words were etched in your mind. You couldn’t ignore them. The feeling you waited for didn’t take hold. Somehow, you felt warm. Despite being alone, despite being the same you as before, despite having seen what could have been that would never exist in your world. You had something else in this world. You meant something else in this world. But you meant something, were someone, as others here were to you. And that was more than enough for a smile to stretch your lips…

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // AO3 // LINK TREE

A/N: Thank you for still being here, I hope this story was worth the wait for you, darling. Please, do leave a comment and share your thoughts if you wish — I adore every comment I receive and appreciate your investment in my writing ❤

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[May:2023]

#rickmas2022 #rickmas #alan rickman #rickmaniac #snapedom #fanfic #reader insert #pro snape #judge frollo #deepperplexity #deepperplexity fic

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