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singsweetmelodies · 10 months

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AKA: angst, miscommunication and a/b/o, feat. brief/mentioned maxierre with piarles endgame (+ implied maxiel.) happy birthday @boxboxbrioche my love

"Hello, Charles," Max smiles when Charles runs into him (literally) in the Budapest paddock on Thursday. He's wearing the same Red Bull team shirt and jeans as ever, naturally, but something about him looks unusually relaxed and content. Sated, even.

Probably because he's been winning practically every race this season, Charles thinks. That's enough reason for anyone to be looking relaxed and content.

Still, when he steps in a little closer to fist-bump Max's proffered hand, he can't help but notice it. Max's scent is... more than just content. He smells like he's only just come out of heat, and whoever was taking care of him did a very good job of it. He doesn't smell like sex, precisely, but he smells like what Charles would imagine afterglow would, if it had a scent. Golden and lazy and sated.

Oh, he's got blockers on, of course, but Charles has always been blessed (or cursed, depending how you look at it) with a very good nose. So. He knows immediately.

Some too-perceptive instinct is telling him that the timing of this heat has something to do with Daniel's return to racing this weekend. Almost like Max... wanted to get his heat over with before he saw Daniel again?

...That's a big stretch, of course, and Charles would never dare say it out loud. (Except to Pierre, maybe, because Pierre loves theorising about the latest paddock gossip just as much as Charles does.)

So he just smiles politely at Max, and says "Hello" back, and wishes for Pierre to appear out of some corner of the paddock somewhere. It isn't that Charles hates Max, or whatever the media likes to spin, but it's also true that Max isn't Charles' most favourite person in the paddock. (Obviously, that honour goes to Pierre.)

No, Charles' and Max's relationship is simply that of colleagues - good enough, if a little bland.

Which is why Charles is not expecting it at all when Max leans a little closer with something that looks almost like a conspiratorial grin. Charles has no idea what Max might want to be conspiratorial about with him - it's not as though he's leaving Ferrari anytime soon, despite what everyone likes to speculate.

Surprisingly, what Max says to him is not racing or incident-related at all. "Do you know where Pierre is?" he asks, as though Charles is the most reliable source of the Alpine driver's whereabouts. (Charles shouldn't be, but he's very flattered.) "I still need to thank him."

"Thank him?" Charles echoes, a little puzzled. "For what?"

And then Max says the one thing that blows apart Charles' world and turns his day upside-down immediately. "For agreeing to spend my heat with me so last-minute."

He says it so casually, too, and Charles...

Well. Charles knows that many of the other unbonded omegas on the grid like to spend their heats with other drivers. This might seem contradictory at first, but the thing is - while they might not necessarily trust each other on track, you can always rely on the fact that another driver, at least, won't reveal details of that hook-up to the press anymore than you will. Most of the alpha drivers on the current grid are decent enough people off-track that you can trust you'd be taken good care of, too.

It's something that Charles has done himself, too, once or twice - mostly with Alex, who is always incredibly kind about it, and makes sure Charles is comfortable and well-hydrated afterwards.

But mostly, Charles spends his heats alone. He schedules them carefully so they won't interfere with races, and then he bears them on his own, teeth gritted as he works himself open over and over again and clings to whatever article of Pierre's clothing he can find nearby.

It's never good enough, never, but Charles has never really wanted another alpha. He only goes to Alex if his body genuinely cannot go without it anymore, and then it's purely a case of friend helping out a friend.

So, really, Charles has no reason to be this shocked that Max apparently spent his most recent heat with Pierre. The two of them are friends, aren't they? Much better than Charles and Max have ever pretended to be. There's no reason why they wouldn't spend a heat together, really.

Except...

Charles grits his teeth, and it's only years of media training that enables him to still pass it off as a smile. "He did?" he asks, tightly.

Max laughs, still happily unaware that he's taken Charles' day and shattered it like a glass breaking into unrecognisable shards. "Yes," he confirms, and then he bumps Charles' shoulder, almost unbearably conspiratorial again. "You, of course, would know why I now need to thank him."

No amount of media training in the world could have helped Charles keep up his smile in response to that. Max notices - how could he not - and his own smile falls. "You two have not...?" His voice rises up in the end, like he almost can't believe he even has to ask the question.

Charles tastes something sour in his mouth, and by the way Max flinches back, he's sure it must be all over his scent as well, blockers be damned. "No," is all Charles says, brusquely.

Max opens and closes his mouth for a moment, and then he reaches for Charles' shoulder. He hesitates, though, hand hovering awkwardly in the space between them. "I'm sorry," he says, and it sounds sincere. "For assuming. The two of you are so..." He makes a face. "You are good friends, so I thought if he would do it for me, he would of course do it for you too."

"No," Charles says again, and the word tastes acrid in his mouth. "We have never."

Not for lack of trying, Charles thinks bitterly, and then he forces himself to think of something else. Some excuse that Max will accept.

Fortunately, a little gaggle of people in bright Ferrari red are passing by, and Charles latches onto them with almost too much relief. "Ah, my team," he says, pointing. "I need to go."

It's stupidly obvious, as excuses go, but Max has the grace not to mention it. He just watches Charles go, biting his lip.

Charles wants to hate him. He wants to hate him more than anything else - for having a race-winning car, and a team that supports him properly, and championships, but more importantly than any of that, Charles wants to hate him for having Pierre.

It's not that Charles thinks Max is actually in love with Pierre, or even that they're courting. No, it was clearly just a case of friend-helping-out-friend. But even that is...

Unbearable. It is unbearable, because Charles hasn't had even that much.

Charles had only asked once, and only because he'd been stupid with pre-heat already and not thinking straight. Pierre's long, long silence before he'd said, very gently, "Charles... I don't think that's a good idea" had told him all he'd needed to know, anyway.

After that heat, though, Pierre had called Charles and made sure he was okay, and that he knew it wasn't personal, Pierre just didn't think it was a good idea to get that involved with another driver. Especially one who's also a friend.

Charles had accepted it at the time, and he's never had any reason to think that Pierre has changed his mind in any way.

Except now here Pierre is, apparently spending heats with Max fucking Verstappen, of all people. And, really. Out of everyone on the grid - every goddamn omega - it had to be Max, didn't it?

A part of Charles wants to fall to the floor in devastation, wants to tear at his hair and shake and cry to anyone who will listen, why doesn't he want me, why doesn't he want me?

But Charles remains standing, because even more than he's heartbroken, he's furious.

Pierre did not help Max through his heat because they're in love, or because they're courting. So, he must have done it as a favour to a friend.

Then why the hell would he not do the same for Charles?

Charles also asked him as a favour to a friend (and yes, maybe Charles wanted more, but he wasn't stupid enough to ask for that. He'd just asked for a favour, the way every unbonded omega on the goddamned grid asks their alpha friends for favours every once in a while.)

Pierre had said no, and that he doesn't do that. But he'd forgotten to mention the part where he apparently does do that.

If he were here, Charles might slap him clean through the face. It's not an urge he's often had when it comes to Pierre (or ever, really) but today...

Today. It's just. What the hell does Max have that he doesn't? Max and Pierre are friends? Charles and Pierre are better friends. Max is an omega? So is Charles, and he's better at that, too.

It's obviously not even about looks! Because Charles doesn't want to be rude, but he is definitely better-looking than Max. It's just a fact, as true as "the grass is green" or "Charles is Monégasque" or "Charles is in love with Pierre."

No. Fuck that. None of this makes sense.

If Pierre is willing to spend a heat with Max, then there's no reason why he can't help Charles through one, too. It's not like Charles is asking Pierre to love him back - no, he's long since made his peace with the fact that that, at least, is impossible.

Charles has always wanted too much, though, and if he sees even the faintest chance of getting what he wants, even if it is just in the form of a favour to a friend -- well. He will never not go for the gap.

So Charles waits, increasingly impatient, for his media and team obligations to be done for the day. As soon as they are, he heads for Alpine, because there is no way Pierre will have left already - he is far too dedicated to them, staying behind extra hours to learn as many names as he can and give as much feedback as possible and help with everything that needs helping.

Right, because isn't Pierre just so incredibly helpful. Normally, this would make Charles smile, fond - but today, it makes him want to snarl.

Helpful, yes. Except to him, apparently.

No. Charles will not accept that.

Various team members glance up when Charles storms into the Alpine hospitality, freezing with coffees half-way to their lips and tracking him like the spectators to a tennis match as he storms across their building and towards the driver's rooms. One particularly brave soul ventures an "Er..." but Charles is already across the room before he's even finished saying it.

Charles knows the way to Pierre's driver's room as easily as he knows the way to his own (incidentally, it's on the same side of the building) and it's mere seconds later that he's bursting through the door of Pierre's driver's room.

Pierre freezes when the door slams open, mouth caught in a comically surprised expression, but it relaxes quickly into a fond (if still somewhat surprised) smile. "Charlito!" he says, standing up and reaching a hand in Charles' general direction. "This is a nice surprise."

But Charles is not in any mood for pleasantries. "Did you spend a heat with Max," he asks, but it's not really a question as much as it is an accusation, pointed and sharp.

Pierre freezes again, the smile slowly dropping off his face. His scent goes bitter with unpleasant surprise. "I -"

"If you lie to me, I am going to slap you," Charles says, injecting the words with just enough of a snarl that Pierre will know he's not messing around.

Pierre's expression goes from shocked to hurt to angry almost faster than Charles can process. "I wasn't going to lie to you, Charlo. I would never. Not with you."

He sounds sincere enough about it that Charles almost feels guilty, but then Pierre adds, "He's just a friend who needed a favour" and Charles is right back to furious.

"I was a friend, and I needed a favour," Charles says bitingly. He doesn't have to say anything more, because he knows Pierre will understand exactly what he means.

Pierre's face shutters, closing off completely. Even his scent goes blank, like Pierre is deliberately shutting off every part of himself. "That's different."

"How?" Charles hisses at him, and Pierre obviously wasn't expecting the vehemence of it, because he stumbles a step back. "How the hell is it different, huh?"

Pierre's expression does something complicated, and he makes a rough noise, low in the back of his throat. "It just is," he says, and refuses to elaborate.

Charles is livid. "It just is?!" he explodes. "Tell me how it just is, Pierrot, because I sure as fuck don't get it. I am your friend - non, I am your best friend - but when I ask for this favour, you say no. Then when it is Max, you say yes?"

"It's different," Pierre says again, sharply, as though sharpness alone will make Charles drop the subject.

He really doesn't know Charles if he thinks that will work. "It is not different. Not at all. What, unless you are trying to say that you don't want me?"

"Of course I-" Pierre starts, then cuts himself off with a groan, dragging a hand down his face. "I don't want to do this with you, Charles."

"Well, I want to do this with you," Charles retorts, unfazed and as fuming as ever. "What is it, huh, Pierre? You prefer Max over me?"

"Of course not," Pierre says, and he has the audacity to sound almost offended.

"But you must, if you fucked him and not me," Charles snaps. He's not entirely sure what he's trying to accomplish here, but he knows - he knows that he's furious, and Pierre is being a fucking asshole, and he needs Pierre to admit that much. At least.

Pierre, however, seems determined to continue being a stubborn asshole. "It wasn't like that," he insists, and Charles sees red.

"It's exactly like that! I asked you to fuck me, to help me through my heat, and you said no because you do not want me."

And that, somehow, is the last straw.

"Shut up, Charles," Pierre growls - actually growls - at him. "Just, shut up. You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I don't?" Charles snaps right back, goading. "Why don't you tell me, then?"

Pierre snarls again, guttural and furious, and Charles knows that he should be terrified. But right now, he's far too furious to care.

"Tell me," Charles goads again, because he knows that nothing will ever compel Pierre as much as a challenge will.

Pierre is breathing hard, his fists clenched, his shoulders rising and falling rapidly. "You think you know what happened with Max, huh?" he asks, and Charles has never heard him sound like that. Despite himself, it sends a thrill through Charles' whole body. "You think you know what I want and don't want?"

Charles lets his belligerent silence do the talking for him, and Pierre's eyes flash. "Well, do you know that none of it is true? Do you know that none of the rumours of me with all those omegas are true?"

"What do you--" Charles begins, but Pierre cuts him off with a single hand held up, raised as sharply as a slap.

"Do you know, Charlito," he says, almost viciously, "that I've never been able to date any other omega for longer than a few months because I was always comparing them to you?"

Charles jolts where he stands, all the breath wrenched from him. "What--"

But Pierre doesn't give him a moment to process that. "Do you know that I only agreed to spend this heat with Max because he was desperate and out of options?"

"Do you know," Pierre continues, dangerously soft, "that I had to think of you just to be able to come at all?" He stalks a single step closer to Charles. "Do you know that I had to pretend it was you all the time just so that my knot wouldn't go down?" Another step, and Charles is shaking all over, but he can't move. Pierre has him pinned down, completely rooted to the spot with his scorching gaze and world-ending words.

"Do you know," Pierre concludes, softest of all, "why I really said I wouldn't spend a heat with you?"

Charles isn't sure how he even manages to form the word. "Why?"

Pierre's eyes are so, so dark as he stops just in front of Charles, raising one hand to ghost just millimetres above Charles' collarbone. "Because," he says, and his voice is rough. "I knew that if I did, Charles, if I fucked you even just once, I wouldn't be able to hold back. I would bite you, then and there, and I would make you mine."

All the while that he's been speaking, Pierre has been tracing his fingers upwards, a slow, slow torturous slide mere centimetres above Charles' skin. Charles can almost feel the heat of his touch, almost but not quite, and when Pierre stops just below Charles' mating gland - Charles whines and shudders forward, the combination of Pierre's hand there and that word mine too much for him to resist.

Pierre's fingers touch the overheated skin of Charles' mating gland, and the world explodes.

Charles' knees buckle, and his head spins, and he has to press his thighs together in a desperate effort to ease the sudden and burning need there. He's wet, he can feel it, leaking slick all over the place just from that one touch.

Pierre jerks his hand back, of course, but even that split-second of contact was enough to destroy Charles perfectly.

Pierre is panting, and he looks about as wrecked as Charles feels. "So do not stand there and tell me that I don't want you, Charles," he says, and his voice shakes - anger or desperation, Charles can't tell. "Not when I have done nothing but want you for as long as I have known how to want."

Charles shudders, the full weight of Pierre's words sinking in on him all at once. As Charles stands there, processing, he watches as the world rearranges itself entirely.

Charles breathes in, and then he breathes out. "Fuck you, Pear," he says, only a little shakily. "No, seriously, fuck you. How obvious do you need me to be? I literally asked you to spend my heat with me!"

For a moment, Pierre looks so indignant that he forgets to be angry. "You asked it as a favour to a friend!" he protests. "I just said, I can't do that! Not if it's you."

"Yeah, well," Charles says waspishly, "I only asked it like that because I thought you would say no otherwise."

And all at once, Pierre's expression transforms as he comes to the same sudden and brilliant realisation Charles just had.

"Charles," he says, shell-shocked. "If you're saying what I think you're saying..."

He glances down at his hands, clenches them tightly into fists again, then looks back up at Charles, his gaze burning. "You have to know, you can't take it back. I'm not going to let you take it back. Not if you mean it."

"God, Pierre, you are so fucking stupid," Charles says, and alright, maybe he is still a little angry about the whole situation, after all. (He thinks he has the right to be, though.) "Why do you think I was so angry that you went for Max?"

When Pierre doesn't say anything immediately, Charles snaps off a sharp step into Pierre's space, flicking his fingers against Pierre's forehead. "Yeah, it's because I wanted you to choose me. Only me."

Pierre's hand comes up, grabbing Charles' wrist in a bruise-tight hold. He draws Charles' hand away from his face, but then he doesn't let go, just keeps holding on, fingers circling Charles' wrist like they're meant to fit there. "Only you?" he echoes, and it sounds like a question.

Charles nods, because there was never any other answer, and he's about to say it, too, but then Pierre kisses the words right off his mouth.

If Charles' world hadn't already exploded so thoroughly earlier, then it would now.

It's a good kiss. No, it's better than a good kiss - it's a fucking incredible kiss; Pierre's one hand still wrapped around Charles' wrist while the other finds its way to his waist, like it belongs there. Pierre kisses him like he's still a little angry, but also like he's never meant anything more, pouring every part of his soul into it. Pierre kisses him like he's already imagining the night they're going to spend together after this, and he kisses Charles like how he's planning to fuck him later.

Charles has no objections to that. None at all.

Well. Except the one.

He pulls away from the kiss, pressing his palm hard to the side of Pierre's face. "You're going to spend my next heat with me," he says, orders more like, and it's far too possessive, but he can't bring himself to care. Not one goddamned bit.

Pierre growls, low in his throat, and pulls Charles even closer to him. "No, chéri," he says, too-softly. "I'm going to spend every single heat with you from now on. Forever."

"Forever," Charles breathes, and then he kisses Pierre again, hard, making it a promise. "Forever."

#posted this at 01:16 which is not QUITE 1016 but as close as i could get on this fine evening #HAPPY BIRTHDAY BRIONYYYY #myfic #piarles fic #10 x 16 #maxierre #(technically)#(they're really only there as a plot device to get us to piarles endgame)#in other news WHOA MY GOD THIS GOT LONG #(who's surprised....)#but i SWEAR the intention was just to write you something short and sweet for your birthday today since #since we'll only be releasing the main fic later #(well; i say short and sweet; but i don't think SWEETNESS was ever the intention. i wanted to write possessiveness)#(and also miscommunication and misunderstanding and all them GLORIOUS angsty tropes)#and since i have absolutely no self-control to speak of... here we are #BRIONY. my love. i love you so much #please accept this humble offering of my first ever publicly posted a/b/o on the occasion of your birthday #sorry for making the boys angry at each other but i unfortunately think it's very hot to make them scream confessions at each other #hot angry confessions... CHEF'S KISS #and i really hope you like this too!! and go as insane as i did over certain lines #because by God... i fear that you have created a monster #now that i have discovered a/b/o i am NEVER LOOKING BACK #this was so fucking fun to write oh my god. JEEZ #but anyways!! getting distracted here #HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN MY LOVE #and before you say this is too much.... NO. we can never celebrate your birthday too much #this is just more proof to that end #LOVE YOU ENDLESSLY ❤️❤️❤️#briony's birthday bonanza 😘

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chichiricatsan · 1 year

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Nov. 4th, 2022 ~ I have a simple Spotify now :)

So...I've been trying to keep playlists for my fics in order, but I gotta tell ya, copyright and nonsense on music platforms make it impossible anymore. I'll try to keep up with them, but if the songs go poof, they go poof. I think at the end of it all I'll share a list of all the songs I had/have on an extra list somewhere or something. Maybe share a doc for people to download that just want to know the songs since I'm constantly writing them down because some songs/vids get privated or deleted on a daily basis. Bluh.

I decided to make some simplified Spotify playlists as well, but the main place will still be Youtube I imagine, just because of the stretches of creativity allowed...for the most part. The Spotify playlists won't have a good chunk (if any) of the instrumental pieces, of course, unless they are available on the platform. Hell, Spotify doesn't have a chunk of the more well-known songs which blows my mind, but eh. It is what it is. Youtube has a wider variety for a number of reasons and will be the main place for the playlists.

It's a balance since one platform has stuff the other doesn't. Sorry if it's confusing. I try to keep them balanced. :(

But yeah, I know the future is music streaming platforms and whatnot, so I'll share links to playlists as I make more fics and update links on Ao3 as well later on. I only have a couple so far - One, of course, for The Listening, and the other I've started for Shatter Me, my Detroit Become Human fic which currently is housed in my brain as a movie. I may release the first couple chapters by next year, but we'll see. If I do, I'll start releasing them on my other blog which you can follow here >> pirouettemechanicalheart

[ Otherwise, here's the link to my Spotify ]

#mostly it's the damn video helper (or VHPR) music for instrumentals!#they just go poof off youtube a lot #so they'll be on spotify most likely lol #otherwise the playlists are intact for the most part #just thought i'd share since...y'know #a lot of people have spotify and such now #music #spotify playlist #fanfiction playlist #spotify fanfic playlist #fic: the listening #fic: shatter me #chichiricatsan #etinarcadiabayego

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sambuckysecretsanta · 2 years

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SamBucky Secret Santa 2021

Good morning/afternoon/evening, Winterfalconers of all shapes and timezones! Today we are delighted to bring you our official SamBucky Secret Santa. This holiday season, we're going to be celebrating our favourite superhero boys the best way we know how: through a gift exchange!

The rules are simple:

Everyone who signs up gets a gift, and writes a gift. Please keep in mind that this is an exchange, so if you want to get a cool Sambucky present, you have to make someone else a cool Sambucky present too.

Since this is a Sambucky exchange, the main focus of your fic has to be on the Marvel Cinematic Universe relationship between Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes. Background relationships are allowed, but the chief focus should always stay Sambucky.

This is primarily a fanfiction challenge, but other fanworks (art, gifsets, videos etc.) are more than welcome in addition to a gift fic! We do expect everyone to write a fic with a minimum of 1000 words, though, regardless of any additional fanworks you might be inspired to create.

Sign-ups are open as of now, and will remain open until the end of the month. On the 1st of December, giftee names will be drawn.

Once you have your giftee, keep it secret! Don't tell anyone who you have, especially not your giftee (obviously.) Each giftee will send in two different prompts, and it's up to you which one you write. Or you can go for a creative combination of the two - your choice!

When prompting, please make sure that you send in two completely different prompts, so that your gift writer has options. Prompts can be anything you want, and a few common examples include: AU ideas (for example, coffee shop AU), dialogue prompts (for example, “Shut up!" // "Make me.”), common tropes (for example, enemies to lovers), and songs (for example, Take Me To Church by Hozier). But really, anything you can think of is good!

You are allowed to give explicit/smutty prompts, but only one per person, please! We recognise that not everyone is comfortable writing explicit material, and we want to make sure there's always another option available. Our priority is making this experience safe and fun for all.

Gifts are to be posted on the 24th of December, by no later than 23:59:59 in your timezone. We will be checking that all gifts have been posted by 10:00 AM GMT on the 25th.

If you feel that you need to drop out at any point, please let us know ASAP either through an ask or a direct message to this blog. The sooner you let us know, the sooner we can arrange a pinch hitter for your giftee. The last thing we want here is for someone to be Sambucky-less on the 24th.

Name drawing and posting instructions will be clarified on the 1st of December. We'll also release invite links to the exchange's Discord server on that date. Until then - please spread the word to all your fellow Winterfalconers so we can make this holiday season full of proper Sambucky cheer!

If you've read through all the rules and you still want to sign up, here's the form. We are thrilled to have you with us this holiday season, and we can't wait to enjoy all the new Sambucky content with you!

#sambuckysecretsanta2k21 #sambucky secret santa 2021 #sambucky #winterfalcon #the falcon and the winter soldier #captain america and the winter soldier #captain america #sam wilson #bucky barnes #anthony mackie #sebastian stan #gift exchange

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tuesday-teyz · 2 years

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Looking for co-author? Maybe???

Okay hear me out

My fav movie of all times is Avatar, and by that I mean the blue aliens sci-fi movie aka this

And today I got a thought: what if I wrote an Avatar Dream SMP AU?

Just think about it. Sci-fi & "human are space orcs" type of fanfics are still quite popular on a03, and Avatar has SO much lore and world building both featured in the movie and released as additional material in magazines (that I may or may not own) that it'd be a waste not to use it. At this point blockmen fanfiction is the only way we could get Avatar 2

Some ideas I got set already:

•Bedrock bros centric

•Techno is human and Tommy is Navi (a race of blue humanoids native to planet Pandora) kid

•Wilbur was a scientist who researched Navi and the planet Pandora. For that purpose he used an Avatar body (an artifical body resembling Navi that can be controlled by a human who's DNA it was created with)

•Wilbur died in odd circumstances but since Avatars are expensive as heck, when the company finds out that Wilbur has a twin (Techno), they offer him to take his brother’s place

•Techno agrees, maybe to find out how Wilbur died, maybe because he has no other purpose in life

•Techno and Wilbur haven't seen or talked to each other in years, possible were in conflict regarding Wilbur’s choice of occupation, or about Phil's death (if Phil is their father in this au)

•Techno might have served in military (generally the beggining is similar to the movie)

•When Techno arrives at Pandora he meets this angry Navi kid who speaks English and seems to know a lot of swear words

•Turns out he is a kid that Wilbur have been interacting with while he was still alive

•Wilbur taught Tommy about Earth and humans, and they got attached to each other (read: became brothers)

•And then he died

•Tommy either knows that and gets pissed off that somebody else (aka Techno) uses Wilbur’s Avatar

•Or he thinks that Wilbur went missing and mistakes Techno for Wilbur and is happy that he is back

•Possible angst: Techno learns about Wilbur and Wilbur’s life through Tommy’s stories. This might cause Techno be sort of jealous and envious at first but as the story progresses, he sees that he has wasted his chance to have a family by not reaching out to Wilbur sooner

•Quackity as fellow researcher & Techno’s friend? Dream as either the main villain or Navi hunter & Tommy’s brother figure who disapproves of his relationship with Techno? Schlatt could be the main villain in the second option

How the plot will go, how long is the fic and etc is up to discussion. I've been quite tempted to try writing with someone together, so if you're interested, please message me either here or discord (Teyz#8544)!

If you are interested & do not have much free time for this fic now that's totally okay too! I'm on a break right now and will be for around another week, but we could start even later than that or generally take it slow. I'm in no hurry!

Either way, we'll have to see and discuss whether we're a good match in terms of writing style, but I'd love to work on this with another Avatar fan as myself

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hgwellsmykabering · 3 years

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@purlturtle tagged me in a little W13/Bering&Wells questionaire for her website - Thanks for thinking of me, and feel free to post my answers on there with my lilolilyrae ao3 URL, and/or this tumblr here!

How did you get into Warehouse 13/Bering and Wells? What do you love about the show/ship, what woke your interest, what kept it going?

I first watched Warehouse 13 with my family when I was about 13 - I think season 3 had just been released, and there were re-runs of the earlier seasons on TV, I liked it and got the DVDs for my birthday.

I shipped Helena and Myka from the start - and it might be the one and only popular ship that I got into without prior influence from fandom! While I already had a tumblr, I wasn't active in many fandom circles there, and I had never even heard of ao3 yet... But when I discussed the W13 characters and possible relationships with my parents, and my mom was like 'we may not like it, but Pete and Myka as the main characters will end up together, it's always like that' (curse you, season 5, for proving her right), while my dad suggested Pete/Helena and didn't believe me that Helena and Myka were the most shippable... well, I went online, found my first fanfiction, and felt Very vindicated at not being the only one to realize their potential! So really, Bering&Wells got me into fandom.

When did you start writing for them? Do you still write for them, or have you moved to other fandoms/ships? (no worries either way, it's absolutely fair to move on!)

I started writing for them back in 2016 with a College AU that I never quite finished (and don't have the heart to mark 'abandoned' but am honestly not sure whether I'll ever come back to), then only sporadically stayed in the fandom until I found some new Bering&Wells online friends some time last year, and I started writing for the ship again a few months ago.

What do you/did you like about writing for Bering and Wells? What motivates/motivated you to write for them?

Apparently, I have a ship-type of 'Women with a tragic backstory where one had to leave the other for a while', and, well... they just fit that perfectly.

Also, all the lost potential of canon! I do so enjoy fixing that.

What kinds of stories do you or did you write for Bering and Wells? Happy endings or sad endings? Hurt/comfort, plot fics, AUs, kid fics, fix-its, smut, …?

So far it's been short fics, mostly smut, but given that since I started writing for them again this year, I only wrote 3 new fics for the ship so far, I don't think that's much of a pattern yet xD we'll see! I definitely plan to write more.

Have you created or are you still creating other forms of fan art for Bering and Wells/Warehouse 13, like GIFs, videos, paintings? Do you wanna show it off (share a link)?

Photo posts on tumblr! I think I only made the one moodboard for Bering&Wells so far, but I am taking prompts for photo stories, moodboards and manips to all of my ships :)

Do you have a favorite story, or a story you’re proudest of, and would you tell us which it is?

...I'll link the one that isn't smut xD and I did get positive reviews on this!

The Grey of Memories, 1.5k, T, emotional hurt/comfort, no warnings. Tumblr | ao3

From the smut fics, my fav is And You Don't Need To Stay Silent on ao3, 5k, E, emotional loud sex in a newly established relationship

What do you/did you find easy to write for them; what is/was hard or challenging? Do you feel you have a good grip on the two main characters; is one of them more elusive than the other?

Well you see... It's honestly been so long since I last watched much actual W13 canon... So now when I think of the characters, it's all a mash-up of ideas from other people's fics, plus my own specific headcanons - and I honestly don't care to change that. (Insert that text post 'does fic really have to be in character? Is it not enough that I don't need to learn any new names?')

As for writing them to still be recognizable to people with different headcanons, I've found that Helena's old-timey British-ness and tendency to use the pet name 'darling' helps a lot, while I don't have any such tricks for Myka, so I suppose writing HG would be easier there.

What's your writing style? Planner, Pantser, Plantser? Do you work with a beta? Have you ever co-written a story with someone else, and how did that experience go?

I can write one-shots in one go, but for anything longer than about 5k, or if I just don't have the time to finish even a shorter story when I have an idea for it, I note down the outline and go through it later. I don't usually work with betas unless it is a fic written for a gift exchange.

What are your favorite kind of stories/story tropes for Bering and Wells, either to write or to read? What are stories or tropes that you don't like (or can't stand) to write or read for them?

While I'm not usually a fan of kid fics, with Bering&Wells I really enjoy stories that include Christina, especially in a fix-it way, but also in AUs.

For canon compliant fics, I like some good emotional hurt/comfort dealing with trauma - as they are going through a lot in the series, and canon isn't always perfect about dealing with the aftermath.

What are your favorite Bering and Wells stories from other authors/writers? What do you like about these stories?

One of the, if not the first fanfic I ever read is Time After Time by muppetmanda on livejournal, and it is still my favorite! A long timetravel fix-it for (almost) everything, NC-17, getting together.

Other great stories:

Transient by tantedrago on ao3

Warnings: Major Character Death

38k, M, a Ghost!Helena AU

Lots of lovely angst, how Helena and Myka start to interact and get close is beautifully written.

Trapped (aka oh my god, they were roommates) by paddingtonfan69 on ao3

11k, M, deals with the 2020 pandemic

The title says it all! This is a quarantine AU with Myka and Helena as college professors, getting together while stuck in the same appartment and competing for the same job. I love the premise and I adore where the author went with it.

Only for tonight by Numo on ao3

76k, E, bigender H.G.

HG and Myka get together despite many dificulties with each other and the Warehouse regents. I also really love the idea of bigender!HG and how they are written as both genders in different scenes.

(lady I will touch you with my mind) by corchen on ao3

18k, not rated (could be E)

This fic has a wonderful idea for an artefact, and Myka and Helena's feelings and reactions are very well written!

I haven't replied to all of the questions, but if someone else also wants to do the interview for purlturtle's blog, you can find all questions here!

#thanks for the tag!#bering and wells #warehouse 13 #lilolilyrae #purlturtle #hgwellsmykabering #tagged #fic recs #bering and wells fic recs #bering and wells blog #blog

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cooltrainererika · 4 years

Text

Alt-talia Compilation: Family

(This is a semi-AU! Please see my other works for an explanation)

Phew! This is last-minute! It’s the 9th here now, but I think it’s still the 8th where the blog is being hosted! I hope it isn’t too late! This is for the @heta-oc-week event, specifically for Day 3: 1/24, Family. The first two could be argued to be Modern Day, though, especially the first one. I realized I could do another Ripped From The Headlines type thing, since the nation in question came up in an internet argument.

So I’m deciding to write up a bunch of characters I haven’t written yet. Note, sadly, I haven’t developed any of these characters much yet. I pretty much had to conduct research in the span of a few days and hope it’s accurate. As such, nothing established here about these characters is set in stone, including characters who appear here as female staying that way.

...Especially since here I made my first foray into Sub-Saharan Africa. A region that is often hard as goddamn balls to personify due to its countries’ ethnic diversity and often lacking in coherence. But I seriously wanted to finally step into it. Though the character I initially intended to be the main character, one of the more coherent ones, actually ended up being only mentioned, because I had to come up with a story direction too. I wished I asked my friend from one of the two main countries there a few days ago for better accuracy, aaaahhh...

I’m sorry if these seemed rushed, but I just want to get something out there in case I can’t make the rest I have planned (and I could maybe submit the ones I can’t release on time for the Valentines event as platonic prompts?). Also, the third one is (maybe?) my first attempt at putting dark humor into writing. So if you’re not that comfortable with really dark jokes, I plan you skip it. The main character in the third fic is probably one of the few characters in Alt-talia who could be called a villain, so she’s, uh, kind of awful. Even by Alt-talia standards. Yes. Though showing sweet moments like this probably kind of ruins its effectiveness as opposed to if I showed their awful actions first. Oh well.

That’s it! If I want to add more it will be under the cut. And I’ll add more stories later for this and other prompts if I have the time!

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Conviction As Solid As Rock

“Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

and never brought to mind?

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

and auld lang syne…”

On the 29th of January, the countries of the United Kingdom finally left the European Parliament for the last time.

After the agreement was finally ratified, and the parliament was awash with relief, the other member states and their MEPs stood to send them off properly with a surprise serenade.

“For auld lang syne, my jo,

for auld lang syne,

we'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet,

for auld lang syne…”

Just as they were about to leave, the other member states gave them their goodbyes.

Scotland was obviously holding back sniffles as France consoled him, clearly not wanting to leave.

“Why’d ye have to use one of my songs?! Ye just had to make it worse fer us?!”

Germany stuck out his hand.

“You’fe caused us much trouble. But ve still vish you ze best of luck.”

France turned away from his childhood friend and huffed.

“Was about time.”

England was finally able to coax Malta’s embrace off him, took their hands and shook them.

“Surely.”

Belgium, this time, took his hand with both of hers.

“We will miss you, despite how it looks.”

“My, thank you. Now, cheerio. See you at negotiations.”

“...”

“No-ortherrn Irrela-and, come o-on. Et’s time to-o go.”

Northern Ireland broke his staring contest with his Republic counterpart as Wales tugged on his suit, exchanging one final, uneasiness-filled glance before facing down and following the rest of the family with rapid steps.

“You beddur give ush a good negotiation! If you come crawling bac- AU!”

“I nev’r plumb for you aga- KURWA!”

“Ah, yes, freedom at last!”

“Freedom fer you…”

—————————————————————

When they returned, someone was waiting in front of their common house. It was a rather sturdily-built man, overly dressed even for the chilly weather, shivering in the English humid winter night air under a heavy coat, his face a mosaic of features and indeterminate ethnicity but possibly vaguely Mediterranean.

“...Ello?”

The man turned to him, and his brown eyes lit up as he waved.

“Oh! I was waiting for you!”

England blinked a bit.

Then, a small monkey poked its head out of his coat, confirming his identity.

“...Gibraltar?”

“Ey, Gib! It’s ye!”

Gibraltar‘s smile was glowing.

“I’ll open the door for you. I thought we could spend time as a family to celebrate our exit from the EU!”

Now, Gibraltar himself, as a part of the United Kingdom, could enter the common house whenever he wished. However, like the diligent son he was, he had waited this whole time for who knows how long in the British winter cold, just to greet them for this special occasion.

England patted the man on the head.

“Now, that’s my Gib.”

“Dedn’t oo just fo-orrget about-“

“Now, now, you can open it. Come on.”

—————————-

Gibraltar strolled through his streets where his people mingled, an uncertain mood hanging in the air.

Many spoke of what was to come. What awaited their future; from the mundane, such as how it may affect the cost of groceries and jobs, to the larger issues, such as how they would deal with a certain old thorn in their collective sides. But many went about as they always did, as if this were any other day.

From this day on, they were to be disconnected from Europe.

It seemed so strange. It had been, what, almost half a century they had been in the union? It was so hard to believe that finally, after three years of tedious negotiations, they were leaving.

He had been against this, very strongly in fact, but he was to accept it.

After much walking, he reached a good spot in one of his beaches, the massive rock that gave him his nickname looming so close to him that it may as well have been next to him, and he sat himself down, the sand a nice cushion through his khaki shorts.

The beach was quiet now, as after all this was a normal weekday. The turquoise sea he knew oh so well extended in front of him, a piece of Moroccan land and Ceuta just so slightly peeking over the horizon.

His monkey hopped out of his bag, grumpy that she had spent longer than she would have wanted in it.

“Hey, you said you wanted to come with me today!”

Gibraltar felt a presence behind him. A nation. The nation he wanted to meet the least right now, but who he had been unfortunately expecting.

He immediately stood up and spun around.

Spain. His expression was cheerful as per usual, but Gibraltar knew exactly why he was here, and it wasn’t just to say “Hi.”

“Olà!”

“...What’o ya want, España?”

He could just see the irritation his cheerfulness masked become crack through at the tone he greeted him.

“Ay! I just thought I should pay my little Llanito a visit! And don’t talk like that to me.”

“Why not? Why shouldn’t I?”

His monkey started to hiss.

Spain’s face slowly twisted into something between anger, determination, exasperation, and offense.

“Ah, el mocoso, I thought you Brits were supposed to be polite?”

Stoicism was never one of Spain’s strong points; he was a cheerful man known for his passion, glowing with a charisma many found appealing, but his peers in Europe, his children, and he himself knew more than well enough how quickly that passion could explode into a raging fire.

But Gibraltar hadn’t gotten his nickname just from a geographical landmark.

“Bollocks! ‘Ave ya ever met a Scotsman? Stop treating me like I was ever yer lad, España!”

Now any pretense of cheer had dropped.

“Why?! Why do you stay with him?! You voted to stay! You said you wanted to stay! What’s your problem?!”

“What’s YOUR problem?! Let me go!”

“Don’t you DARE talk to me like that! I’ll get the rest of the EU on my side-“

Gibraltar held back his macaque with his ankle. No. This was his place to talk.

“Do it! I ‘are ya! If ya care’ about me so much you wouln’t have shut me out twice! An oh, on’t give me that ‘Oh, Franco made me do it’ bollocks, I remember the queues, the burnt cars, the border fuckery in 2013, bloody 2013 - just 8 years ago ya cunt! - violating the EU’s dedications to customs borders because oh, ya just had to throw a hissy fit over me again! It’s been 300 years you twat! And you’ve done nothing but prove that I can’t trust ya! An ya know what? I survived both times! Without ya! Ya don’t own me an’ I only ‘ave one family! Ya know what? Ya just can’t get over that you can’t controlled anyone like ya used to! ‘Cause it’s not me ya want anyway. Ya just don’t like that the borders look a bit odd, ‘cause of course now ya care about things being out of place, an’ can’t let go that we kicked yer arse in a war that means bugger all anymore! No wonder Catalonia hates ya! Of course I want ya to bugger off!”

Spain was starting to shake. That last one especially had struck a nerve, as intended. Maybe bringing up Catalonia was too much. Frankly, Gibraltar would have felt sorry for him, but damn it, he was in a moment, and he couldn’t be stopped now.

“And oh yeah, they’re my family! Not you! Ya never were an’ never will be! I’m fucking BRITISH mate! I was born when they claimed that rock! An I’ll make sure it stays that way! Now go an cry to the EU as much as ya want! But I’ll survive without ya! I’ll survive like all those other times! I’m a bloody fortress, an’ this fortress hasn’t fallen in 3 centuries an’ it ain’t falling now! Now leave me and my family alone!”

Spain opened his mouth, attempting to say something. He looked like he wanted to materialize a hundred slippers to throw at him, like an angry mother of a reckless child.

Gibraltar knew it wasn’t going to sink in. After all, he still didn’t learn after 300 years. Three goddamn centuries. And when everyone finally started to suspect Spain was finally moving on, his tendency to abandon rationality when he was involved would always reared its ugly head. He knew almost everyone in the EU had also grown tired of it; England had once recounted to him, quite amused, how Antonio had blown up at Ludwig, who after putting up with it for hours while looking very dead inside, had told him bluntly to be reasonable on the matter.

Really, it was a shame. He knew Spain was better than this. They even worked at each others’ places at times, and after they both became EU citizens they were actually able to have amicable conversation again. He could genuinely be a sweet person on good days. Maybe it was just that he felt he needed to hang onto what he still had left. Being right on his doorstep probably just made it all the more painful. He supposed it was just how nations were. He was aware how nations, especially once great or currently great ones, clung onto power and control out of primal instinct.

Still, his hang-ups weren’t his problem. He had been British for 3 centuries, he was born British, and that was all he had known.

It was like a parent eternally bitter about losing custody. Except that in this analogy said parent had had no stake in being the child’s parent in the first place.

It was just then the giant, hulking form of a battleship passed by behind them; one of the battleships of the great Royal Navy, the Union Jack flapping proudly upon it.

It’s sight made Gibraltar’s heart awash in safety.

He grinned at Spain, his pet imitating him. It was a bit too perfect a timing.

“Oh, look at what showed up!”

Spain stared, then back at him, and left without a word.

Gibraltar sighed and plopped back down on the sand.

Honestly, he didn’t know what awaited him.

More than anyone else, he wished to remain. He thought cooler heads would have prevailed, but it was times like this that it truly hit him how small he ultimately was.

Because it wasn’t as if England couldn’t be arrogant and generally out-of-touch, Scotland couldn’t have his drunken fits of immaturity, or Wales couldn’t be annoyingly spacey… They weren’t perfect. Especially England. While he never told him so, he had noticed how England took a tad too long to to remember him more often than he would have liked. Though he knew very well he hadn’t been as important as he used to be for a while now, so he had no reason to be on Uncle England’s mind constantly anymore anyway, it could still be frustrating being reminded of that.

But he was British. Unlike how Uncle England seemed to see it sometimes, he didn’t have a particular affection for him, or any other member of the kingdom, so much as the plain fact that he loved his family; all of it, for the silly, sometimes puzzling mess they were as a collective, in its entirety.

The United Kingdom was where he belonged; because it was his family. He was part of this union as much as England or Scotland or Wales or Northern Ireland. And no matter what was going to happen in the future, even if they were heading towards a cliff, he would never hesitate to jump off with them. They cared for him. And he remembered when England himself seemed genuinely offended by him being called a “colony”, insisting that he was a valuable, integral subject of the crown.

If anything, he could take a temporary shock or need for readjustment. He could tough it out. What he truly wouldn’t be able to take was if this were going to cause their kingdom to break up.

And so, he stared back out to sea, where the naval vessel was docking in the harbor.

He let his macaque climb on top of his head, waving at the ship.

Besides, he would survive. And change wasn’t always bad.

And moping around wasn’t going to happen anywhere. Tonight, no matter what seas laid ahead, he was going to expect the best.

Because if they were going to be in this together, his gut knew there was going to be light at the end of the tunnel.

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Two Swahilis, Different Ideals

When they were gaining independence from Britain in the 60s, their leaders floated a certain idea; an idea that they were to become the proud parents of a new nation.

She could even delay independence, it had even been suggested to Tanganyika, as she was called at the time; she could step out of the yoke of colonialism hand-in-hand with Kenya, Uganda, Zanzibar, and the new federation, into the bright future ahead. It sounded romantic, a bit overly idealistic.

While they were but children at the time, for children at their physical age, on the edge of showing the traits of adulthood, it was not uncommon for her people, especially girls, to start to think of children of their own. And of course, it would only be after everything had settled and fallen into place, when they had gained their footing on independence.

That never materialized, and by 1964, the year she and Zanzibar had their - rushed and mostly forced - wedding, it became clear their child wouldn’t be born in the conceivable future. But they still had the Community. After all, they were like family, siblings even.

Yet, by the 70s, it was clear this wasn’t meant to be either. She and Kenya had found themselves on the opposite sides of the Cold War, and Uganda was at the mercy of not only a tyrant, but a brutal, insane madman of a tyrant who despite his claimed desire to unite Africa had a bloodthirst that still left its marks in Uganda’s flesh and with delusions of grandeur that defied the human or even nation imagination, though for their continent this was unfortunately merely somewhat unusual by then.

In the end, several diplomatic disputes, slander campaigns, small wars, and a campaign to take down a tyrant later, official relations between her and Kenya were worse than ever, as they were between Kenya and Uganda - who was in no shape to do much at all except try to rebuild - and everyone was to move along and start anew, as if the failed project had never happened.

Decades passed from then. They fought, had diplomatic spats, but at times, when they could, met at a personal level; until, at the turn of the century, it became in their interest, according to their leaders, to once again reunite as a community.

They were to become East Africa’s EU, Kenya, now a spirited young man, had said with great confidence. He had become the most prosperous out of the three of them, and it was as if he had assumed leadership. But just like before, he was pushy, she felt. He had a bit too much power.

Even so, many joined their little club after the revival; Rwanda, the rising star child of East Africa, her less fortunate twin-but-actually-chronologically-much-younger-brother Burundi, and most recently, young South Sudan, though they were often in no condition to dedicate much time to the EAC. Well, neither was Burundi, but South Sudan even less so. Poor kid.

And it wasn’t long until “it” became a subject of consideration again.

“Think ‘bout it, Tanzania! C’mon! Do y’ think it would be a boy or girl?”

Tanzania blinked.

Kenya, somehow with his eyes simultaneously both on his new Tecno Spark smartphone and Tanzania, turned them completely to her and nodded before resuming his position.

“You’re da woman, aren’cha? Y’d love it! Ya should be likin’ dis da most!”

Tanzania flinched a bit.

“...Kenya, why are you so eager about this arrangement?”

This time, all of his focus turned to her.

“Why? Why are ya so negative? It’s a globalized world out dere, Tanzania! China, big mega corps, investment! We’re gonna have’ta be sailin’ dose seas to make our people rich!”

“Well I do know tha-“

“It’s things ya understand when ya become woke to the world like me, girl. I’ve made deals, I’ve seen da good, I’ve seen da bad, I’ve been around. An’ we’ve gotta stick together to get our voices heard! We’ve gotta protect ourselves from it if we’re gonna venture out dere! Or else our nature and businesses are gonna suffer!”

“And you’re planning to take my property too, right?”

Kenya huffed and shook his head, putting his phone down and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Dis again? C’mon Tanzania. Why do ya have to be like dat? I’ve tried to be a good brother, but all ya do is complain! And even among da others yer da only one who complains ‘bout bein’ in dis community! Why ya nervous when it comes to dis, when ya tell me I have no chill, eh? Why ya gotta be like dat? We family here, nah?”

“We are! But you’re the pushy big brother!”

Kenya frowned deeply.

“Well, I wanna help, ya know? An’ I can’t help yer not as rich an I control most da dough.”

“...Touché!”

“Gah! I wasn’t meanin’ to offend ya! Get a thicker skin, will ya?”

“Besides… our leaders will just get in another tizzy even if this one gets resolved. Not to mention your more fragile state; I know who I am, but your people are still somewhat fragmented, to say the least... And don’t you still think a child outright is too much? It’s too soon. We and our leaders are too different.”

“Ya keep sayin’, take it slow. Ya think dat works in today’s economy, sis? Wonder who he’s gonna look da most like… maybe she? Though they might be young n’ cute fo’ a long while since they’re gonna be a confederation, apparently… wonder how long it takes ‘em to age? Switzerland’s one, right?”

Tanzania almost fell over where she sat.

“Did you even listen to a word of what I said?!”

“...Anyway, we’re doin’ dat constitution no matter what!”

He put his phone in his pocket, suddenly stood up and grabbed her wrist.

“Kenya! Let me go!”

“It’ll be fine, girl!”

“I get it! Let me go!”

“Ah, women, women. Why ya gotta be like dis?”

“You’re walking too fast! This is a violation of sovereignty! This is exactly why I don’t trust this! Let go! KEENNNYYYAAA!!!!”

And thus, they made their way to yet another round of bickering, though not before getting yelled at by their bosses for tardiness even for their standards, and all the other members of the EAC could only sigh.

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The Devil’s Foal

Mongol Empire jumped off her horse, commending her men for another battle well done.

They had returned early in the morning; that city had put up an annoying fight. Pitiful, really. It got more blood on her coat than expected, and it felt like it was freezing onto her.

She gave her trusted steed a pat before telling another one of her men to go quarter it.

“Another success, it seems.”

It was her Khan. She stood to attention.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Go take a rest! You deserve it.”

“Yes, Sir!”

Taking a bag of loot, she made her way to the stream next to where her yurt stood, taking her helmet off and shaking her hair free. Soaking her blood-soaked coat into the stream, grumbling at how some of the bloodstains had soaked in, she didn’t notice the figure sneaking up behind her…

“Eke! Eke!”

She spun around, and there was a little boy with the appearance of a 5-year-old, looking awfully proud of himself.

Batudai, her precious oldest son.

It hadn’t been long after her formation she had found herself the mother of a few Egg-realms - she was quite shocked, she was chronologically younger than even some human mothers when Batudai was blessed upon her, though due to her rapid maturity she probably shouldn’t have been - and for some reason, she felt she knew there were going to be more in the future. Maybe if any future conquests were going to be to her taste, though carrying one like a normal woman would could only be a hinderance; she belonged with her men and her steed, in battle, firing arrows into the skulls of her pitiful enemies.

Though, it was a bit early for Batudai, she realized; it usually took the scent of roasting horse meat for him to wake up in the morning.

“Did I scare you? Thought I was asleep, didn’t you?”

She chuckled, set her coat aside, and ruffled the boy’s hair.

“Oh, you little mischievous you!”

He wrestled himself out of his mother’s grip, and gawked at the new riches that had been bought back; it wasn’t much, for nomads had to travel light, but that didn’t subtract from the fine feats of artistry they were.

“You got another one, right momma? Wow, you’re strong! And it’s so shiny!”

“But ah, you see Batudai…”

He sat down, looking at his mother with his sparkling, innocent eyes.

“There’s an even greater treasure. One that isn’t as tangible, but it is more valuable than any gold… the glory of conquest. The crushing of defiance. The visible loss of hope in your enemies’ eyes! The croak of petty, weak humans as an arrow pierces their throat! The weeping of a grieving realm as they reap the consequences of their insolence for daring to defy you! The delightful snap of a sword through the neck! The crack of bones under hooves! The fear and despair upon the face of those who heard of your feats as they bow at the hooves of your horse begging for mercy! THAT is the true treasure!”

Her son looked at her, tilting his head.

“...What?”

“...Sorry. I got a bit carried away.”

“So what I’m got from that is, you’re really strong? ...I wanna be like you, momma! I’m gonna be strong like you some day!”

She hugged him close.

“I know you will!”

“And all under Tengri will be ours!”

“That’s my boy!”

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Notes: I tried not making Spain a one-note bad guy here guys. I really did. It is Gib’s POV, so it will be biased. Though personally I am a bit more on Gib’s side here. I’m sorry for any Spanish readers, it’s just that nations can’t help but act like Narcs by default. Especially former and current Superpowers. Modern Germany is probably the only major world player who isn’t some degree of Narc and that’s only because of extraordinary circumstances.

Africa: I can’t rely on individual tribe cultures for many Africans because choosing one would not represent the nations, so I kind of have to rely on stereotypes. But I wanted to actually go with what Africans thought of each other. ...But my god was information hard to find. And I thought finding information on Liet was a pain. I had so few good sources. Yay. I hope they had some merit.

Kenya talks like that because I saw a comparison on Quora or something made that if Tanzanian Swahili was standard English, Kenyan (or at least capital region) Swahili would be kind of like AAVE. While it’s not a reliable source, I didn’t have a lot to go off of at all, so I had to go with what I got. I hope I can reach my Kenyan friend soon. I really gotta contact him again... But still the more educated of the two speaking with more of an accent is a pretty good way to play with expectations I think.

Kenya isn’t just animals and tribes in the countryside living traditional lifestyles, but it’s also a business hub, a growing nation thought to have a bright future. I also heard that because of that, some Tanzanians get the impression that Kenyans are in a bit of a rush all the time, like the New York “I’m walkin’ here!” stereotype, not responding much to casual greetings. Or maybe it’s just Nairobi, but still again, I really don’t have much information. So I wanted to reflect that here; he’s a busy, fast-talking, somewhat impatient modern young businessman who knows a bit about how the world of international relations works.

He’s eager about the EAC here because the aforementioned Kenyan friend was, and many points Kenya makes were based off of his, but idk how popular his opinion is, even though he claimed it was a popular opinion. I think he also claimed that Kenyan national identity was pretty unified but information I found indicated otherwise, so maybe he’s just a passionate Kenyan nationalist who while not extreme is a bit more optimistic than others. Still he’s my best source now.

Kenya is a bit of a phonaholic because smartphones are apparently even huger in Africa than the rest of the world, because they’re small and cheaper and easier to use than a computer; due to this, they use them for a lot of business things and have been a boon for entrepreneurship in Africa. In Kenya, Techno is a local brand made to fulfill local needs and has a larger share than other brands, which is just great news in general. And i thought just worked as a shorthand to immediately convey that he’s young (I’d say he’s like 20 to 21 here? Note that most of Western Europe is almost if not in their 30s at this time), a business type, impatient, tech savvy, modern and far from the primitive African stereotype, and constantly receptive to information but a bit inconsiderate of Tanzania’s needs all at the same time. And I may or may not have been inspired by my African friends, though it was the Liberian one who wasn’t afraid to just start casually scrolling on his phone as soon as he found what I was saying uninteresting. I was shocked but I kind of appreciate the bluntness.

Tanzania meanwhile is more quiet and polite, actually a bit more laid-back, though that isn’t seen much here, but less worldly. She’s more of a conservative person, but I made her female because apparently Tanzania is pretty high on the Gender Parity Index, though obviously as seen here there is still sexism. And I couldn’t make Zanzibar female (not only is Zanzibar even more culturally conservative but Zanzibar is grammatically male and Tanganikya/Tanzania female in most languages with that, it was too good to pass up) though in their cultures it would still be a bit weird that the more prominent one of the two is the wife. Then again it’s not like the two would be particularly close anyway, I’d imagine they barely think of each other as husband and wife (and thank goodness because Tanganikya would have been like... 14 at the time at most? Ewwww...).

Being a former Socialist state, Kenya’s Capitalism-babble can go over her head, so Kenya probably thinks that she’s a bit dumb, especially because she’s not as educated as him. The biggest opposition to the EAC seems to be from Tanzania, because of a history of Kenyans buying up Tanzanian land and fears that a confederation would make it worse. Kenya would have more power in this dynamic it seems, despite Tanzania having more landmass, if not among the EAC as a whole, just by virtue of him being the one who has the most idea and conviction of what he’s doing; it’s kind of like how Germany finds himself as having to be the leader in the EU, except unlike Germany Kenya is nowhere near as humble (despite his rather fractured identity, though that is merely mentioned here) and hasn’t been deprogrammed from his instincts. So it’s kind of easy to see why she would be a bit skeptical. Though I seriously hope this happens sometime soon, because I just want to see more underdogs succeed in this geopolitical landscape.

Mongolia: Batudai here is who is to later become Yuan, and modern Mongolia. While Mongolia and Mongol Empire are conflated in canon, and are shown to be male I think, I make them separate entities since I thought that would be the easiest to write due to how the Mongol Empire eventually split apart.

“Tengri” is the God of the original religion of the Mongols, from what I can gather basically being synonymous with the heavens.

And, yeah... the dark joke in the room. The Mongols were quite fond of... ahem, helping themselves to the women they conquered. Since I make Mongol Empire female, due to the relatively high social standing of women in Mongol society at the time, I can imagine she’s done unpleasant stuff to some of the many male realms she terrorized over her short but brutal career, especially since they’re more likely to find a man being victimized by a woman to be humiliating...

I have had the idea that Yuan is the son of China and Mongol, even though I imply that he doesn’t have a father here because I thought that writing implying there was a pregnancy would complicate things and it would weigh her down, and it’s just hard to pin down what the timeline for births of Egg Nations should be due to their nature. Also it wasn’t like China was taken over immediately of course, and as strong as she is he’s too proud to let that happen unless he’s completely defeated.

I did say that she’s terrible even for an Alt-talia character, right?

But I headcanon her as a good mother because Genghis Khan is still widely admired in Mongolia. In fact, saying something bad about him is akin to heresy. It’s not just a Vikings and Scandinavians situation either, like, a gag manga got blasted by Mongolians for using his image in vain once (I hope no Mongolians see my work... aah...). As such, to Mongolia themselves, Mongol Empire was a loving mother, and that was the only Mongol Empire they knew. They know little about the suffering she caused, just the good side she showed them.

Also, while I kind of want to make Mongolia female, it seems that it might be a bit more logical to make them male, hence them being male here. While Mongolia is kind of known for having a “reverse gender gap”, this is due to the women being sent to do less traditional work; which means universities, which in a modern societies leads to modern success. That isn’t really an indication of how society sees women in general. I would much prefer them to be female, because I can see interesting dynamics play out between her and China during the Yuan Dynasty, but until further notice Mongolia is male to be safe.

I may post my sources for my research later. IDK.

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