#i said this was the leverage au i wouldn't be writing

[jamiesfootball]

jamie could have the eliot scene where he tries to go talk to his dad and his dad doesn't answer, and it could be like james just got out of prison and jamie wants to go see if they can Fix Things between them now that jamie's life at least isn't so violent anymore and maybe he can help james get on track on the outside so he won't end up back in and and and

and james doesn't answer because he blames jamie for him getting caught in the first place, and jamie tells him about hacking through the door, and he doesn't answer that either but he throws something at the door and jamie flinches back all the way off the porch. and then he just goes home.

and roy's like how did it go? and jamie says it went the best it could have.

Eeeeeeeeeeee ok ok ok but. but. Here's the thing. Jamie's dad is very Nate's-dad-coded to me. So in my mind I had it going more along the lines of The Three-Card Monte job.

Like this:

Even from the street Roy could hear the laughter spilling out of the Crown and Anchor, and after a long day of reconnaissance it called like a reward in waiting.

Roy didn't mind doing legwork for a con- in fact he appreciated Ted's insistence that the team dot their t's and mind their p's and whatever else he wanted them to inflict on the rest of the alphabet. Better prep made for a safer job. Roy had worked for enough men who'd sacrifice the time upfront if it meant getting to the next score faster; he respected that Ted wasn't one of them.

As their feet sloshed through the snow, Jamie kept a running commentary on the dirt he'd dug up in the breakroom. While he'd waited for his crawlers to skim the server (which to hear him tell it, was so laughably out of date that buying something on the company's Wi-Fi ran a bigger risk than riding passenger in Colin's Fiat), he'd learned from Jeanine who'd heard from Alan that Erik-with-a-'k' Davies was the one who'd decided to pass on Jim-from-R&D's project proposal after quarterlies came in low.

Thank fuck Roy'd never had a real job. He didn't know how people put up with it. He'd rather stab his eyes out than pretend to care about breakroom gossip.

But that wouldn't stop him from doing his job. He dutifully noted all the names - Jeanine, Alan, Jim, Erik-with-a-'k' - knowing that even the smallest details could mean the difference between making a cover or blowing the con.

"Can't believe I had to use a photocopier to make copies of the building schematics," Jamie complained for the umpteenth time. He stood back to let Roy open the door for him, despite the fact that it was Roy who was carrying his duffel full of tech. "In this day and age, a company worth billions should really consider digitizing-"

Six things happened at once. Years of experience gave Roy the particular skill to parse the components of a situation in order of importance.

The most concerning, the domino that set the rest in motion, was how Jamie's body froze, a fear response where he'd been at ease a second ago.

Instinct had Roy stepping in front of him, an arm slung protectively over his chest to hide, block, or push him away, whatever was called for.

His eyes hit all the exits: no one blocking the kitchen or alley, and the door behind them remained clear.

Identify the people of interest in the room, the other potential targets he might need to shield: Keeley and Rebecca at the bar, their heads thrown back in laughter. Colin, pleasantly bored or bored-ly pleasant, pouring out a lager for an older bloke.

Assess the older bloke; the only other other person sitting at the bar. Grey slicked back hair and a receding hairline. Steel-toed boots, worn through and poorly kept, so not an actual laborer. Clean, new denim and a mass market coat. An unspoiled duffel bag on the seat next to him. Fresh out of prison, then.

Either hearing the door swing open or feeling the cold breeze that gusted in behind them, the older man turned to look over his shoulder. Head-on he seemed younger than lines on his face implied, and his cheeks flushed ruddy with drink. He grinned (Manchester dental work), and under the guard of Roy's arm, Jamie flinched.

"Well, well, well. Look who's decided to show himself." The old bloke chuckled; it didn't reach his eyes. "If it ain't my own flesh and blood."

[hitomisuzuya]

OMG HAPPY BIRTHDAY SUZU!!! THANK YOU FOR BLESSING US WITH YOUR REQUESTS ONCE AGAIN

and since you're from Japan that means you have a two day long birthday now! hehe <3

I've been thinking the past couple of days about sucking gamer bf!scara's cock while he's mad at his video game hehe :3c thank you for all you do as usual!! ~ wwafterdark

and a birthday scara!

Gamer! Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Scara receiving. Au.

Hello dear! ❤️🥺 Thank you so much and for the birthday Scara. Honestly, I have been wanting to write something like this. So thank YOU for requesting it.

Scaramouche was a very, very temperamental boy. Given his colorful personality, it was 100% guaranteed to come through when he played video games.

Especially if it was a part in a game he couldn't beat. The huffy sighs were becoming consistent for the past two hours. It just wasn't clicking with Scaramouche for some reason. It didn't matter the variety of creative ways to pass the stage, nothing was working.

And what was so much worse was that he was messing up, and failing with you watching. And your sweet words of encouragement were only making it worse. He was grateful for them, but it made failing so many times in a row after hearing them was driving him nuts.

You could see his fingers starting to grip the controller, and you thought you could hear the subtle sound of plastic breaking.

Scaramouche tossed the controller onto his lap with a huffy sigh. You were relieved because it meant he wasn't going to completely crack the controller.

You knew what you had to do. There was one sure fire way to calm him down. You walked to stand next to him. "Take a break, Scara," You said, putting your hand on his thigh. "Spare the poor controller. You'll get it eventually."

Scaramouche scoffed, his cheeks flushing when your hand started to wander up his thigh. "If you say so. Maybe I should just hand you the fucking thing next time."

You pinched your fingers against the head of his cock outside of his pants, making him groan. "Please don't do that," Your cheeks flushed. You wouldn't tell him you'd puzzled out a few methods that would work.

Maybe you should just hand him his ass anyways? He often did livestreams, after all.

Rolling the head of his cock between your fingers, you sank to your knees in front of his chair. Unzipping his jeans, you took his cock out, stroking your hands over it.

His cock twitched in your hand as he rutted into it. You placed kitten licks on the tip, laving your tongue in his precum. Scaramouche moaned huskily, stroking a hand through your hair.

You abruptly took his cock into your mouth, squeezing your hand around the base. You hollowed your cheeks, sucking as you ground your mouth on his cock.

Scaramouche hissed in pleasure. "Suck harder with your slut mouth," He groaned, grabbing onto your hair as he pushed his cock into your throat. He held your head in place while you gagged. Your throat convulsing and spasming on his cock made more precum hit the back of your throat.

You moaned around his cock when you started to breathe through your nose. You flattened, and curled your tongue around his length.

Scaramouche did very little in letting you set a pace. Using your hair as leverage, he bobbed your head up and down on his cock as he took all of his frustration out on your throat.

His thighs trembled in pleasure, letting out a volley of curses, some of them in Japanese as his cock throbbed with impending release. You sucked more eagerly, tears stinging your eyes from his pace.

He was panting by the time cum spurted into your mouth. His hips didn't stop until he was satisfied with fucking his cum down your throat. It was a few moments before he suddenly tapped you on your head.

"I have something to tell you," He said, the way he was smirking down at you actually made you a little nervous.

"Y-yes? What is it?" You asked, sucking some left over cum off of the tip of his cock.

Scaramouche pointed to his webcam. "My web cam has been recording live the whole time."

"What?!"

That was all you could manage to sputter out. Scaramouche threw a jacket over the camera, and tossed you on his bed.

[thisonesatellite]

Tagged by the always wonderful @fsbc-librarian -- thank you so much, darling! 💖💖💖

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

42 works

2. what’s your total ao3 word count?

677,643 (how do i have so many?)

3. what fandoms do you write for?

MCU/Stucky -- this is my main focus and current sandbox. i love to play with these two. OUAT/CS -- that is where i started my fic writing journey and it still makes up the bulk of my works. i no longer write it, but it will always have a soft spot in my heart. Dramione -- i wrote one dramione fic a while back, and it is a ship dynamic i really enjoy. i still have one big, rather epic fic idea for it, too. Since this idea -- (and @mysteriouscatstellation) -- have been bugging me about it for over a year, i absolutely have to write it. Eventually. Obvi. (Actually, it's up next after i finish my East German Stucky Spy Lunacy, shhhhhhhhh.) Leverage -- i also have one Leverage fic. i have literally no idea how that happened. None. This fic basically walked out onto the page and said, my turn. 😂 It did give me a really good opportunity to create an original character though.

4. do you respond to comments? why or why not?

Always. ALWAYS. i love and appreciate each one, from a row of emojis to a page of analysis. i go back often and re-read them, just to motivate myself. People who leave comments are the real heroes. (Although i do understand that not everyone has the spoons to comment, and that's OK, too. Just know that if you leave me a single emoji i will love it no less than if you write a dissertation. 💖💖💖)

5. have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that i know of. But i haven't checked either.

6. have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes -- The Sword and The Heart, an epic rewrite of OUAT S5 i tackled with the amazing @ohmightydevviepuu. If you have never collaborated with another writer, i strongly urge you to try it. i learned things about myself and my writing that i am still benefiting from to this day and i am immensely proud of what we created together. However, that is pretty much due to dev being the best collaborator ever. (Get yourself someone you trust and love and yet challenges you at every turn, is what i'm saying.)

7. what’s your all-time favourite ship?

That's a hard question, because affinity does change -- and why wouldn't it. We change, become different people, and sometimes the things we used to bleed for no longer resonate quite as hard. Like - my OG ship was Buffy /Angel, and i have the absolute soft spot of all time for them, but also i'm (obviously) no longer in high school and so the urgency has subsided. There have been a few other ships i've sideswiped over the years, characters i absolutely loved but never quite got 'ship-invested' in. (Shipvested? 😂) Personally, one factor is definitely that i did not know what a fandom was, or even that there was 'fandom' (as a concept, a community, a Thing) until Captain Swan tore a hole in my heart five years ago. i didn't really know what fanfic was. Or AO3. Apparently i live under a rock. But currently, the tl;dr is a dead tie between Stucky, Captain Swan, and James Holden /Naomi Nagata from The Expanse. With lots of honorable mentions bringing up the rear. 😂

8. what are your writing strengths?

Plot, dialogue, world building, and having characters stay true to their nature even when seen through various AU lenses, i think. Also action and fights and sometimes even battles. And i think i have a knack for letting exposition bleed through action and dialogue, instead of writing it outright. (That last one is a hard-won skill and kills me dead at least once a chapter, you feel me.) i also put a ridiculous amount of research into everything. Seriously, it's a sickness. i once spent more than two hours looking up radio dramas from the 30s that had a supernatural bent and might appeal to teenagers. For half a throwayway line. Possibly i should not list this as a strength. 😂

9. what are your writing weaknesses?

Smut. SMUT ALL THE WAY. i cannot write it, i don't know how. People who read my fic will always get shortchanged in the E department and for that i am sorry. But i really am completely useless on the smut front. And fluff. i can do soft scenes, but i cannot write pure fluff. i don't know how to do that either. i'll write a fucking coffee shop oneshot, or a thieves AU that doesn't even crack 5K, or even a BARTENDER fic, and yet complex back story and plot and action will still burst out from between the lines. All you people out there who can just tear off a sex scene or a fluff piece, i salute you. Also all you people who have multiple WIPs. i don't know how you do it. i can only ever write one fic at a time. You are all wizards, aren't you.

10. first fandom you wrote for?

OUAT /Captain Swan, back in 2019.

Zero pressure tags: @sparkagrace @cable-knit-sweater @bittersweet-in-boston @late-to-the-party-81 @metalbvcky @voylitscope

[evilwickedme]

20 questions for fic writers

Thank you for tagging me <3

How many works do you have on ao3?

69 lmaooo

what’s your total ao3 word count?

407,178 which is. A lot

What fandoms do you write for?

My current main fandoms are DC comics and marvel comics, but I've also been writing a lil btvs. Historically I've written a fuckton of Harry Potter, The Witcher (TV), a decent amount of leverage and daredevil (TV), the raven cycle, all for the game, and a few other fics in some random fandoms

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

before we get married, I need to get permission from batman; hang on til the chaos is through; in which an entire university becomes far too involved in Pankratz and Vengerberg's love life; This is all just HR paperwork waiting to happen; and The Sound Of My Own Voice (Asking You To Stay)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I respond to every single comment, with exactly one exception, that absolutely haunts me. The person just kept replying to me no matter what I said and I couldn't make them stop

What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending

Mornings, for sure. One of my first ever spideypool fics back from 2016. Peter dies at the end. know we're not together (but I won't forget you) is a close second though

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

Oh I don't know, I have a lot of happy endings but they usually follow a fuckton of angst. Maybe in which the daily planet staff are 100% convinced that the kent-lanes are fucking superman, but I wouldn't call that a traditional ending

Do you get hate on fics?

Nah, although I've had some unnecessarily harsh public bookmarks

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Oh yeah. My first ever smut sucked but then I wrote so much in 2021 for the witcher that I actually got pretty good at it, or at least as mlm sex. I have some body dysmorphia issues around vaginas and I never feel like I write that well. Anyway I tend to go for excessively sweet or incredibly kinky and borderline unhealthy fics

Do you write crossovers?

Only the buffy/jason fic, unless you count daredevil tv and marvel comics or itsv and marvel comics to be crossovers

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not as far as I know

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes!! It's incomplete unlike the original fic but someone translated most of I'm a mess (but I'm the mess that you wanted) into Russian. This wasn't the question but @flowerparrish also podficced the first chapter of my jaybuffy fic!!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes but I removed it from my page following an extremely brutal and somewhat traumatizing fight with some of the people I was cowriting it with

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Mmmm I don't know, that's a good question. For a long time I would've answered jily. Spideypool is probably the main contender now, although spuffy could give it a run for its money - despite the fact that I've only written one fic for them (and implied them in my jaybuffy fic), I've adored them since I was 13, which is. Over 12 years ago fuck

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

Mmm I'm always hoping I'll finish my wips, but the ones I doubt the most are my yennskier fic (no progress in over a year), my literati fic (although I did make some progress about a month ago), and I don't plan on going back to my drarry Hogwarts professor au for obvious reasons

Edit: OH ALSO the Witcher s2 outsider pov is never ever getting finished I'm sorry I know I promised it to a lot of people in the comments but it's not gonna happen

What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue and characterizations imo

What are your writing weaknesses?

Descriptions my fucking God I struggle so much with them

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I'm fluent in Hebrew and my first ever fic was in Hebrew, so if that came up I'd feel pretty comfortable with it. Anything else I'd have to approach someone who spoke the language, and I'd rather just write it in English and say it was in the other languages

First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter and again, it was in Hebrew. I recently described what it was about to a group of friends who called it, and I quote, "adorable". I was ten or eleven at the time and I do not plan on reposting it.

Favorite fic you’ve written?

That's a toughie. I think probably I'm a mess (but I'm the mess that you wanted), but Under the Pink Hood, Of Three Times Lily Evans Changed Her Mind About James Potter, and know we're not together (but I won't forget you) are all honorable mentions

I'm not a tagger - I usually don't even participate in these kinds of posts - but I guess @not-the-blue @supergirlboy @penny-anna and any other mutual or even follower are invited to participate if you wanna

[clonerightsagenda]

College AU promised Day part 2: The thrilling conclusion.

Despite classes being cancelled due to the solar eclipse, Winry is at the hospital doing one of her shadowing shifts. When she hears that an Alphonse Elric has been admitted, she assumes it has to be a mistake (if one of the Elrics was going to end up hospitalized, it would be Ed) but bursts in to find Al semi-conscious. After an interrogation (is this what your mom had? I don't know. Does Ed know? I haven't told him yet) and some furious lecturing, she tries to call Ed. Ed and Al's sole source of family income is a classics professor, and they were rural kids - Ed's phone is shit and can't handle the current strain on the system. Eventually Ling manages to get through to Greed just as he's returning with everyone's coffee.

Upon hearing the news, Ed is ready to sprint all the way to the hospital, but Riza offers to drive him. It wouldn't hurt Roy to get his eyes flushed, and the campaign is doing fine without him. Olivier got the LGBTQ center and her hockey team to pound the pavement, and Havoc had a friend with a food truck that is now driving around throwing fliers out the back. (I once saw two guys dressed as Santa's elves riding a golf cart shooting t shirts out of a t shirt cannon near the student center for no reason I was ever able to ascertain. A political food truck would not get me to raise an eyebrow.) If anything Roy is a liability.

So, everyone piles into Riza's car and arrives at the hospital. When the desk attendant asks who's family, they call bullshit when Greed announces he's Al's cousin until Ed confirms it. ("How many cousins does he have?" they ask. "A lot," Ed says, not stopping to wonder which of the chancellor's other kids uncharacteristically showed up.)

Back on campus, faculty senate is meeting. Hohenheim has the laborious results of years of research. He's built a case against the chancellor he hopes will be ironclad. It's almost his turn on the agenda when his phone rings. This is the most unrealistic part of this AU honestly - could any version of Hohenheim own a phone? Maybe the administrative assistant sticks her head in to say that someone called his office line. His kid is in the hospital. And for once Hohenheim chooses to be a halfway decent parent, walks out of the faculty meeting, and heads to the hospital.

Meanwhile, Wrath is pretty annoyed that someone stole his car?! but arrives at the quad anyway to learn that his opponent... menaced his sibling and then bailed? Is this a forfeit? He's not sure. It's almost time for his speech - it's scheduled for right after the totality - but as he gets on stage he sees someone approaching. It's the religious studies graduate student who's been banned from most buildings but, critically, not the quad yet for loudly protesting the administration's behavior. That's right. Everyone else may have gotten distracted, but Scar is here and he's got all the archival research they've been doing. He has proof that the administration colluded with the military to create harmful chemical weapons, and that Wrath was an accomplice. And since the quad is also a great place for everyone to gather to watch the eclipse (the chancellor even advertised the university as a good place for watch parties in order to build his brand), there are a lot of witnesses to this revelation. Given the scandal and need for further investigation, elections are postponed. (This is why SGA had to pass a resolution that it was a different month once. We had to postpone the election due to scandal, the bylaws said the elections HAD to happen in a specific month, so we legally changed what month it was.)

Obviously this AU is set in a fantasy universe where people experience consequences once their actions are brought to light, much like in Leverage. IRL Father would get a $600,000 severance package, be hired at another university within a year, and write a thinkpiece for Heterodox Academy about the woke mobs destroying higher education.

Ed arrives at the hospital around the same time as Hohenheim and is mad at both him and Al. I honestly never decided whether Al is developing what his mom had or has another health condition going on, but between Ed and Winry they get him stabilized somehow. This probably involves Ed doing some kind of transfusion so now he is also stuck in a hospital bed or at least forced to sit down and sip juice.

As Roy's getting his eyes cleaned out, the rest of his campaign texts him to let him know that the election has been called off. Hughes had already been buying supplies for an election night party, and Elicia has a checkup at the clinic anyway, so he brings all the food with him. Winry uses her hospital connections to pull some strings, and everyone ends up eating pizza sitting on the Elrics' beds.

Campus police track down Wrath's car in the hospital parking lot, and he shows up with a few officers to try to catch the thief. Greed, motivated 50% by roommate loyalty and 50% indignation that he didn't think to do that first, announces he did it. This makes perfect sense to Wrath. Although he's in no position to press charges at the moment, campus police does not look kindly upon carjacking, and Greed finally achieves his goal of getting expelled.

In the aftermath, Al is recovering, the brothers are cautiously talking to their dad, the board is running a search for a new chancellor, and when the special elections roll around, Roy loses to a poli sci major who's a non-traditional student. Specifically, he is Riza's grandfather who decided to take advantage of free tuition for seniors. This is humiliating for him, but his friends agree it is probably for the best.

The end???

[galactic-pirates]

Writing asks: 11, 22, and 31, please!

Thank you so much for the ask!!

11) Three tropes that are fine but overrated Hmm this is a hard question because first the instant anyone asks me to name things like tropes - head empty, no thoughts. Total brain fail. Second, I don't know, I don't like to judge things. This is how I wound up writing Time Will Tell (Sanctuary Soulmates fic) because I never liked the Soulmates trope. So I challenged myself to see if I could write a version I liked and I did.

If a trope is 'overrated' is that less the problem of the trope, and more just the versions being read? Not everything can be to everyone's taste. One person's absolute favourite fic, can be somebody else's 'backspace, run far away', or just 'meh'.

I've been enjoying rambling about the romance tropes that purlturtle picked for the bracket lately. There are some there, that just are not my thing at all. Does that make them overrated? It means they aren't for me.

I'm sorry this doesn't really answer the question but it's the only answer I feel like I have.

22) What is it about watching the same two idiots falling in love over and over again? I touched on this actually in one of my recent rambles on the bracket. I think I was talking about soulmates and fate, and saying that I didn't like it because love is a choice, and it takes work. Thank Eve Baird for saying that real love is hard and that's how you know it's real. But I do love those two quotes about (paraphrased) "no matter the universe I would find you, and choose you" and "I hope in every world there's an us" and it's sort of like that with the infinite ways the OTP can be together. It's transcendent. It's like that multi-verse spanning love in action. Sort of 'proving' how right they are for each other because they just fit. It doesn't matter if it's canon or AU, canon-divergent etc. Some things are just meant to be.

In other words it's comforting. Bringing order to the chaos of the universe. Saying that in this corner all is well because these two (or three) idiots have each other.

31) What was the most difficult fic for you to write (but in the end you made it)? I think I have a "kill it with fire", it's awful, it's unfixable, I can't do this, I'm fed up, I don't want to, I hate it etc. moment with most fics - or at least the longer ones. Although short fics can be buggers as well, especially if they have to be short for some reason. I loathe word limits with the fire of a thousand suns.

I don't know if I can really say that any particular fic was harder than any other. I would probably say that when I was struggling with it, but after? when it's done? The pain is temporary and it's hard to remember after. Each fic brings it's own challenges. Besides if anything was truly too much then it wouldn't qualify for the 'in the end I made it' because I didn't. My abandoned Librarians fic in the structure of the Rashoman Job (from Leverage) attests to this.

(as I'm not sure that I really answered a couple of these I'll tack on another for you)

25) Is writing the whole thing beforehand better or worse than writing it as you go? It is better because there's no risk of writing myself into a corner, and then having to abandon the fic. If I make a mistake I can go back and revise etc. I can post with absolute confidence as I know it's complete. Plus if something goes wrong then it can just live on my HD indefinitely and I can switch to a different project. It's very freeing. Would 110% recommend (I wrote all my fanfics like this from 2020 onwards).

BUT there is something to be said for a live audience. Back in the day when I first joined tumblr/AO3 and I was writing for Rumbelle, I wrote everything 'live'. I don't know if it was the fandom, the time, or what but I got a lot more engagement. There was more community and that was nice. Writing is lonely and what I miss more than anything is being able to talk to someone about my WIP, them being enthusiastic and sort of bouncing off each other. Never posting a WIP means there is zero possibility of that ever which is sad.

Still I would recommend writing it all out first. I feel like it makes for a more coherent story but that's the novelist in me.

[loopyhoopywrites]

Writing Questions Tag

Thanks for the tag @space-writes :)

What is your absolute all-time favourite ideas you’ve ever had?

Probably the short story that was the first version of The Last Damsel, because it was what led to me discovering my love of writing silly ridiculous comedic fantasy. That one, essentially Monty Python AU, has now become an entire trilogy (theoretically), and I really feel I've found my writer niche.

Is there a question you’ve been asked in the past that really stands out to you, and you still think about sometimes?

Not to do with writing. An acquaintance once asked me a question that sparked an entire sexuality crisis, but that's a whole other story.

What is your favourite part of being a writer? What parts could you take or leave?

I love creating, and I love being able to constantly look back and see how much my writing has improved. I also love the sense of community, and how writers are always each others biggest cheerleaders. I could do without the writers block and the fact I seem to get the most inspired when I have the least spoons.

What is your greatest motivation to write/create?

Spite. If I can't find the type of books and representation I want, I'll create it myself. Also the file of currently (checks) 249 screenshots of nice things other writeblrs have said about my WIP.

What is the best piece of advice you’ve ever read or been given as a writer?

Instead of a first draft, do a draft zero. I think it was one of the Leverage writers who wrote "worst version" as a heading on a piece of paper, and I do that constantly now. I buy cheap, rubbish notebooks, scribble untidily on the first page, and it sets me free to not care about what I'm writing being any good, as long as it's written.

What do you wish you knew when you were first starting out writing?

Not everyone is a planner! I planned my first WIP in so much detail, then got bored because it felt like I'd already written it. Now I barely plan at all and find it so much easier, I think my entire plan for TEQ is less than 20 words.

What is your favourite story you’ve written to completion? Link it if you’d like and can!

I don't write much to completion, The Last Damsel came the closest but that's in dire need of a complete redraft. I'd probably say this fanfic, purely because of the reactions. It was for a prompt challenge, and I went really mean with it.

What is your favorite out-of-the-box quote?

"It takes an awful lot of time to not write a book." - Douglas Adams

Which of your characters would you say has the most controversial mindset? Why do you say so, and how do you personally feel about their ideals?

I mean, Trickster's the wanted criminal, so probably Trickster? He takes a very lackadaisical approach to the law that I am far too anxiety-prone and scared of disobeying authority to agree with. He's also very selfish, very focused on taking care of himself and screw everyone else, which I wouldn't condone. In reality I'd probably stay as far away from him as possible, but he's fictional, so I love him.

If you, when you first started writing, met you now, what would younger you think?

Wait, we write comedy???

What does genderqueer/aromantic/asexual mean?

...What is anxiety and why is it so relatable?

[olderthannetfic]

Sorry (and feel free to ignore) if this isn't your purview, but do you have any thoughts on the racism angle of the Anti debate? Not gonna lie, the most convincing (*and* the angriest) anti-AO3 arguments I've seen on this site were from PoC disgusted with how it wouldn't take down stories fictionalizing and sensationalizing stuff like George Floyd's murder, or Atlantic Slave Trade/Holocaust AUs. I haven't yet seen anyone muster a decent counterargument to that.

--

Beware of censorship because you may not be the one deciding what the bad content is.

That is the argument. People just don't understand it or don't agree with it.

Here's the thing: AO3 was explicitly set up to protect art, regardless of horrificness. That is the point. There is no such thing as beyond the pale for AO3, just legal or illegal. This is right there in the ToS. There are specific historical reasons why this is AO3's stance and mission.

It's not a stance and mission everyone is down with, and I can respect that... but if they want a different kind of archive, they need to make or move to a different archive.

Most fic archives have some level of taste or morality-based content rules. FFN does. Wattpad does. Skyehawke did. All the single-fandom or single-topic ones do, if only in the sense that they ban off-topic fic. The big non-English archives like Ficbook and EFP do. Dear god, especially, EFP where you can't write derogatory things about religious figures, among many other rules. Archives that ban tons of shit have always been the norm. Having multiple archives has also always been the norm and continues to be.

If people see AO3 as all of fandom, that's on them.

What AO3 is is one of the few archives that won't delete m/m or f/f dark fic and kink. This fact is directly tied to its extremely hardline anti-censorship stance. A lot of the anti-AO3 crowd fundamentally does not get why this is the case or dislikes how popular m/m is and doesn't care.

AO3 protects reprehensible art for the same reason the ACLU defends Nazis.

If that's not the kind of free speech above all organization you're into, that's fine, but then AO3 is not for you.

On a more specific note, I don't trust people demanding deletion because the vast majority of wanks aren't about things I personally agree are disgusting (hot takes on George Floyd or whatever) and are instead about My NOTP Is Inherently Bad shipwars or top/bottom fights. Or even worse, they descend into "This fan of color is a traitor for liking the wrong kinks". (If you think people don't call each other inflammatory language like "race traitor" over shipping all the time, you're naive.)

People always think they know when an author is white or straight because they write things Wrong or their mind is too fucked up or whatever, but it's bullshit. There is no reliable way to tell why someone wrote something or how much is their intent and how much is poor writing skill. AO3 is a safe space for writers to post without threat of deletion. It is not and never was a safe recs list for readers. That's not its aim.

Anti-AO3 people try to portray this as brave POC striking back against white oppressors, but that isn't how it ends up. Deletion tools are going to be leveraged hardest against other POC who fail to live up to some impossible double standard.

--

Now, as for whether OTW/AO3 should try to be better and help marginalized groups of fans of all types use AO3 more easily, of course they should. The non-bullshit version of that looks like better blocking tools to hide whatever you personally find triggering or gross. Blocking tools, not deletion.

Many anti-AO3 types dislike this approach because their abusive rants about how your kink is bad or you should ship het instead of m/m would get blocked.

But as lierdumoa said in a cogent explanation of how AO3 actually needs to improve, are people looking for solutions that protect POC... or do they just want a chance to punish?

[mackjlee9]

Trans!FTM!Zhongli x Top!Male!Reader [Lime]

Warning; pussy descriptions, fingering, cunningulus, overstimulation, praising, face sitting, squirting. Modern AU. (This made me feel only a teensy bit uncomfy, but I'll write something like this again if y'all like it)

Masterlist.

Game; Genshin Impact

Requested by _yurizee on Wattpad

Soft moans were leaving Zhongli's mouth, his body squirming underneath his boyfriend's, his trembling hands holding tightly onto (M/n)'s shoulders, feeling shivers down his spine whenever he felt the male's tongue stroking his.

He just loved the feeling, but there was something that always made Zhongli stop everything before it got too heated and out of control.

His hands pushed (M/n) away from him, and his golden eyes clouded with lust and desire looked away as he tried to control himself. His breath was uneven, and he felt his face hot, some drool managed to drip down the corner of his mouth, and that kind of embarrassed him.

(M/n) just stared at Zhongli, noticing he was clearly turned on by his kisses, and he wondered why the black-haired male would always stop his advances. Maybe he was just scared about having sex with another male and being bottom, but (M/n) felt like that was not the case.

So, he sat on the bed and held Zhongli's waist, lifting him onto his lap and wrapping his arms around him. The long-haired male gasped as he was picked up with ease, and he found himself staring into (M/n)'s (e/c) eyes.

"Is there something wrong, Zhongli? Something you can't or are afraid to tell me?" And that was the reason why Zhongli fell in love with him. (M/n) was able to precisely pinpoint whenever he wasn't feeling at his hundred percent, and somehow, always knew the subject of it.

Zhongli looked down, fidgeting with his fingers as he nervously gulped down his saliva.

"Zhongli? Baby, are you okay? Is there something I can do for you?" The long-haired male felt his face heating up, and he leaned down to hide on (M/n)'s neck. "Baby is okay, I'm not gonna force you to tell, I'm just... worried about you, and I wanna help, I'm not gonna get mad at you or anything like that," (M/n) said in a soft, sweet voice, gently wrapping his arms around Zhongli and caressing his back.

Zhongli felt warm. (M/n)'s words and actions made his whole body feel warmth, he felt safe and secure. And he knew he could tell (M/n) anything, knowing he wouldn't get mad or judge him, so he did.

He held (M/n)'s face in his soft hands, his slim fingers making the (h/c) haired male close his eyes briefly, smiling softly at the feeling of Zhongli's hands holding his face so softly.

"(M/n), I'm... I-I'm-," the words got stuck in Zhongli's throat, feeling tears clouding his sight as he struggled with his words, but (M/n) just stayed silent, waiting for him to be ready as he rubbed circles with his thumbs on his hips, even if it was over his clothes. After taking a deep breath, Zhongli maintained eye contact with (M/n), "I'm... t-trans..." he said in a whisper, expecting a bad reaction out of (M/n), but he just smiled at him.

"You're so brave for telling me, baby." He responded, leaning closer to join their lips in a sweet kiss. (M/n) now understood why Zhongli would always stop anything else from happening between them, and for that, he had a small plan.

//////

"W-wait! (M/n)- fuck..." Zhongli's back arched as he felt (M/n)'s tongue lapping up and down, his thighs trembling at the foreign feeling, "It's too m-much, I can't... my p-pussy feels good~" his hands lowered to hold onto (M/n)'s hair, using that as leverage to grind his trembling hips back and forth on the male's tongue.

"That's right, baby, ride my face with your pussy," he hummed, the vibrations making the black-haired male tremble, "You taste so good~"

(M/n) looked at Zhongli as he wrapped his lips around his sensitive, erected clit sucking it and successfully making Zhongli's body tremble with a loud moan leaving his mouth as he came.

His cum dripped down (M/n)'s chin, his body shaking as he came down from his high. Zhongli struggled to get off (M/n)'s face, his thighs weak and shaking, he lay on the bed as he caught back his breath.

(M/n) sat up as he dried his chin with the back of his hand and he situated himself in between Zhongli's spread legs, leaning down to kiss him, making him taste himself on his tongue. Slowly, (M/n) started leaving kisses down the black-haired male's chest, caressing the scars on his chest softly before going down further, licking his abs.

Zhongli squirmed under him, his long black hair sprawled all over the bed, he felt his body still twitching and his pussy throbbing at the intense orgasm he just experienced. (M/n) looked up at him and smirked, holding onto his thighs and moving up to kiss him again. Zhongli moaned, his arms wrapping around (M/n)'s shoulders.

The (h/c) haired male stroked Zhongli's thighs, occasionally giving it a squeeze that would elicit a whine from the male under his body, and soon, those sexy whines of him fueled (M/n)'s desire and he wanted to do something else.

He inched his dominant hand closer to his heat, slowly touching his wet folds, gently pressing on his hole, and pushing them in. Zhongli's back arched and he let out a whimper against (M/n)'s mouth, his wall clenching around the fingers inside him. He masturbated many times on his own before, but this was the first time someone else did it.

And it felt really good.

He closed his eyes tightly, throwing his head back on the pillow, moving his hips in time with (M/n)'s fingers, moaning and crying his name in pleasure. (M/n) moved his finger up and down, feeling around for that spongy spot inside the male's body, and when he found it, he started stimulating it.

His g-spot.

Zhongli's reaction to the pleasure made (M/n) back away a bit, staring at how his hips lifted off the bed and he was thrashing around, gripping the bed sheets and moaning through gritted teeth. He kept repeating 'fuck, fuck, fuck~!' with every movement of his fingers.

(M/n) started thrusting in faster, delighted with the lewd sounds Zhongli let out and the wet, squelching sounds of his wet pussy.

"Fuck, baby, you're taking my fingers so well, such a good boy~," Zhongli cried out at the praise, his entire body shaking as he felt a much stronger orgasm approach.

"Wait, w-wait-! I'm cumm-ming~," with his words, the (h/c) haired male just kept thrusting his fingers, "(M/n), stop... s-something's we-weird-fuck~!" He exclaimed gripping tightly on the bedsheets. Zhongli moaned out loud as he came, his clear cum squirting out of him, wetting (M/n)'s hand all over, but the male didn't stop the movement of his fingers.

He made sure to prolong Zhongli's orgasm, greatly enjoying how he squirted on his fingers.

"God, Li, you're so sexy like this..." (M/n) felt his erection twitching inside his underwear, but looking at the state Zhongli was currently in, he figured it would be too much for the male, so instead, he cleaned him up a bit and went to prepare him a bath, peppering him with kisses when he fell asleep to wake him up.

[fizzyxcustard]

Betrayal (12)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: Crossover of Spooks and Pilgrimage (Modern AU)

Pairings: Lucas North x OC/Raymond de Merville x OC

Warnings: Love triangle. Angst. Language. Sexual references/language. Cheating. Stalking. 

Summary: Amy Holland is Lucas North’s girlfriend of six months. Amy is aware of his job as an MI-5 agent and supports him. However, Lucas’ cousin, Raymond de Merville, has always loved Amy and uses their one night stand together as leverage for something more.

Comments/Notes: If you wish to be tagged in any of my tag lists for fics or characters, please let me know, and stipulate what you want to be tagged in. I’m gradually removing people from my tag lists who do not interact.

I also want to thank everyone who has stuck with me so far through this fic. I know it's probably very different from my normal kind of work and it's not everyone's cup of tea, but your encouragement and support has been amazing, those of you who have shared in this writing journey with me. Again, thank you.

Amy felt in her gut that she was safe to trust Raymond. If he loved her as much as he said he did, the last thing he would ever do was lead her astray and down a road towards destruction. "Tell me what's going on with Lucas," she pleaded.

"Aim, I promised him that I wouldn't break his confidence. I'm just terrified now of the consequences that it's all going to have and how that will affect you. But just know that his secrets have come back to bite him in the arse."

"Ray, please..."

"I hate being called Ray," he snapped. "I'm sorry. You started calling it me just after Lucas did and I can't stand it."

"I'm sorry," Amy sighed.

The heavy bustle of customers meant that Amy and Raymond's conversation, for the most part, was quiet. Other customers went about eating their meals, drinking, and conversing with each other. Considering it was a Monday night, a 'school night', the pub was still fairly busy.

"Raymond, please?"

"No, Aim. I won't break his trust. If he's going to hang, then let him to it to himself. I'm so glad you're away from London now. You're out of the way of him."

Amy took a huge breath and felt that shame wash over her again. She was the one who had cheated, betrayed her boyfriend, lied. Lucas had never, as far as she knew, been unfaithful. And Raymond had remained true to his promise to Lucas for keeping hold of his secret.

"I've treated you unfairly, and I'm sorry," Amy said. "When Lucas found out about us, I blamed you for everything, and it wasn't you. It was me. I was the one who knowingly cheated. I'm just so sorry for that."

"There's nothing to be sorry for, love," Raymond replied. "I did have my part to play in it all, let's be fair. I knew you and Lucas were together. But I can't bring myself to say that I'm sorry for what happened between us, because I'm not." Raymond shifted that little bit closer to Amy and lifted his hand, brushing his fingertips down her cheek. "I'll never be sorry for loving you. It's the best part of me. But I know you'll always be ashamed of yourself for sleeping with me."

"I'm not ashamed of sleeping with you. It was the fact I was with Lucas when I did it. You were right when you said there's something between us. There always has been, I know that. What I feel for you isn't something I'd ever regret; the only regret I have is that it broke Lucas' heart."

"Let me keep you safe. I think time is running out for Lucas now, and if the only thing I can do is make sure you're not dragged into the crossfire then I'll do it."

***

Raymond dropped Amy off at her parents' house that night. They both sat side by side, in the dark of the evening. "I'll be here until Thursday. Anything you need, just call me. "

Amy looked at him and could feel that magnetism beginning to build again. She needed to touch him in some way, taste him. She whispered his name and then leaned across, pressing her lips to his. Within a millisecond, he was responding. His hands were cupping her cheeks, his tongue was against hers. The heat, the electricity, the need and want was building.

Amy pulled herself away, her breathing elevated. Raymond's eyes were still on her.

"I don't want to leave you on your own," Raymond said between hitched breaths. "You're not safe around Lucas."

"I'm with my family. I have plenty of people..."

"Lucas is a spy, Aim. Don't forget that. He has his ways of means of making things look like accidents."

"W...what? Are you talking about him killing someone?"

"No, but if he needed to get to you, he'd find a way."

***

Vaughan's words were resounding around Lucas' head. This man knew the truth, the truth to Lucas' past. The only other man who knew was Raymond.

Lucas sat in his flat, staring at his phone which was on the coffee table. He needed to protect Amy from all of this, take her away and start over. He could give Vaughan what he wanted, the Albany file, and then disappear. Make up a new name, live as someone else. It wasn't so hard as he'd done it before.

Lucas' phone rang as he approached Thames House. "You have two more days, John. We've spoke about this on many occasions. Get that file and I won't hurt that pretty girlfriend of yours. I know she's in Coventry; apparently been seen in the company of your cousin, Raymond."

"Fuck you!" Lucas hissed. "Fuck you, you bastard. I'll get you that file, and then I'm coming for you!"

"No need for all this hostility, John. Get me the file and wire me the money, and we're even. Our last deal, you can trust me on that."

***

Amy was at work on her lunch break when she looked down at her phone, seeing that a voicemail had been left from Lucas. He sounded out of breath, angry, and verging on hysterical. "Amy, I need to come and get you. You're not safe. I'm coming to Coventry to get you."

Her heart began to race in her chest and heat rose up in her cheeks. Her first immediate thought was Raymond, who was still in Coventry for a further day. She dialled through to him, and within three rings he answered. "Raymond, it's starting," she said, her anxiety growing. "Lucas has left me a voicemail telling me he's coming to get me. He sounded hysterical."

"Don't respond to him. Make up an excuse with work and I'll come and get you. I'll be there in about fifteen minutes. Make sure that you stay near the security blokes at the front desk. Don't stray from view."

Amy made up a story that her father had been rushed into hospital and was excused from the rest of her day's work. Raymond appeared at the front entrance to the building not long after she had dashed from her desk.

By the time they had both got back to Raymond's hotel room, Amy was verging on tears. "Please, Raymond, tell me what's happening."

Raymond sighed and sat down beside Amy on the bed. "All I know at this point is someone from Lucas' past, who has quite a track record of illegal and dangerous activities, is blackmailing him into getting something from Thames House. That was all he told me."

"Why would he tell you that? I didn't think you two were on speaking terms anymore."

"I know a lot of Lucas' history and maybe he felt I was the only one he could trust. I won't say any more and break his trust on this."

Amy took Raymond's hand in hers. "Why are you protecting him?"

"He's my cousin, and I don't break promises."

***

Three more voicemails came through to Amy's phone from Lucas. Each one was asking where she was and begging her to answer his messages and calls.

Suddenly an unknown number began to call.

"Don't answer it," Raymond instructed.

Then the voicemail icon appeared.

Amy took a huge inhale and opened her voicemail, letting the message start. A man's voice swept down the line to her ear, a calm and quite monotone voice. "Amy Holland. You need to be aware that the man you think is Lucas North, isn't. The man you have been seeing for this last six months isn't who you think he is. His real name is John Bateman."

Tears dripped down Amy's cheeks and she dropped the phone on the bed. "I'm assuming this was the man who has been contacting Lucas...or whoever the fuck he is."

"What did he say?" Raymond asked, his stare intense on Amy.

"That Lucas isn't Lucas. You knew this, didn't you? This is what you've been keeping secret for him?"

"Yes." Raymond's reply with low, almost a whisper.

"But, why? Why would you keep that secret?"

"John and I were close as kids. I was like the older brother he never had. Our mums were sisters and we practically grew up together. I couldn't turn my back on him, no matter what had happened."

Amy remained silent for a few minutes, trying to comprehend all of what she was hearing. "All of it was a lie. Everything," she whispered.

"Not his relationship with you. He loves you, Amy. He never lied about that."

"Are you really Raymond?" Amy asked, feeling quite stupid. "I don't know what is real and what isn't."

"Yes, I'm me," Raymond replied with a very slight smile. "Served two tours of Afghanistan, dismissed on medical grounds. Born and raised in Nottingham; only child. You can trust me. I would never lie to you."

"I didn't know you were originally from Nottingham," Amy said, trying to temporarily push away this feeling of complete insanity that seemed to be crushing down on her.

"Yeah, lived there until I was about eight, and then moved to just outside London. My parents had split, and my mum wanted to be closer to her sister and that was how John and I became close."

"What do we do now?" Amy asked, the reality bearing down on her. "This man who is involved with Lucas has my phone number and surely he knows more."

"Stay with me, Aim. I'll keep you safe."

***

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[scvrllet]

SECRET CLUBS AND REVALATIONS

In which Wilbur recruits a fellow housemate to join the ‘secret club’ that’s been talked about at Hogwarts, even if Slytherin’s were said to have not been accepted.

A c!Wilbur Soot x Reader Oneshot

contains: gender-neutral!reader. Slytherin!Reader, Slytherin!Wilbur, hogwarts au (however based off of his dsmp character), pansmione + pansy coming out (it’s a whole side plot to this oneshot lmao), a good portion of platonic!pansy + reader, student cruelty (umbridge’s blood quill), takes place in OOTP/fifth year. (2,236 words)

authors note: me when i get sudden bursts of motivation to write *finishes three fics in a day but i had to space it out so that i don't spam my taglist and followers with a fic every hour of the day*

join my taglist | dsmp x hp au series

Dumbeldore's Army.

A 'secret society' or 'club' as many of your peers referred to it as, was said to be an organization of sorts that taught students about Defense Against the Dark Arts in spite of Professor Umbridge's, questionable, teaching methods to say the least. Founded by none other than Harry Potter and his friends, it was to the surprise of a few that Slytherins were the least represented, if even represented at all.

The toad seemed to favor them, which granted you and your other housemates some slack but sometimes, it wasn't enough. When it came to punishments, favoritism was no longer acknowledged as her pleasure of torturing students replaced it. The scars of what she made you write acted as a sick reminder of her cruel nature, though that didn't stop some of your ‘friends’ from joining her side. The Inquisitorial Squad was what she called it and Merlin was it a nightmare.

"Maybe if you joined the Inquisitorial Squad you wouldn't be having this problem!" Draco, one of your 'friends', said as you walked back to the Common Room.

Rolling your eyes at his words, you bit your tongue to argue back. Unfortunately for you, he saw this as a sign to continue.

"Just because you're in Slytherin that doesn't mean she'll automatically like you. It'll give you leverage against the others but you still have to work for her approval, don't you remember how hard we worked to earn that?" He gestured towards Crabbe and Goyle who were trailing close behind the two of you. "You've just got to try harder and I genuinely believe that joining the Inquisitorial Squad would be more than enough of a push into that direction."

"I'd rather Dumbledore's favoritism of Gryffindor than join that stupid club." You mumbled under your breath, not quite expecting Draco to have caught what you said when he replied with, "Silly little club?" catching you off guard.

"You think it's a club like Potter's?" He snapped, causing you to instinctively flinch which you mentally scolded yourself for. "Hmm?"

Had it not been for the arm that wrapped itself around your shoulder and cut whatever you were about to say off, you were certain Draco wouldn't have stiffened and shove his hands into his robes nervously just because of you.

"Well not everyone was born into a pureblood family like you, Malfoy. It's not (Y/N)'s fault they're a halfblood and Umbridge thinks befriending the purebloods will gain her a reputable image."

The sight of Draco struggling to form a proper sentence was humourable. "No one asked for your opinion Soot!"

The boy whose arm was wrapped around your shoulder, Wilbur Soot, laughed at the boy's response and you couldn't help but join him. It wasn't everyday that you saw the Malfoy heir act like this.

"Well if you're done sucking up to the toad, I've got to talk to (Y/N)." Wilbur said, giving the boy no time to even react before turning around and walking away with you, his arm still resting comfortable across your shoulders as he led you towards the grand staircase.

You followed him in silence, not quite knowing what to say or why he even came. The two of you weren't on bad terms but you also wouldn't consider the two of you friends.

“I could’ve handled that myself you know?”

Wilbur let out a laugh as he guided you towards the corridor on the seventh floor. It was oftentimes vacant seeing as no classes or rooms were located up there, though it did serve as a shortcut to and from the Dungeons if you didn’t want to use the grand staircase but even then not many students used it.

“You’re welcome for that.” Was his reply.

“Where are you even taking me? You told Malfoy there was something you wanted to talk to me, what’s that about?” You asked but the closest thing to an answer you received was him suddenly stopping in his tracks, making you follow suit. “Why did you take me here? What’s so amazing about this wall that you couldnt tell me downstairs?”

“This.” He said, redirecting your gaze back to the wall which now surprisingly, was no longer a simple wall. What you could’ve sworn was a simple wall when you first got up here was now a closed door that stood as tall as the walls surrounding it.

“How did you….” You trailed off as the door opened to reveal a group of several students engrossed in conversations of their own. The familiar faces of Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood and strangely enough, Pansy Parkinson, made you think this was Dumbledore’s Army.

But that would be impossible, they didn't allow Slytherin’s! But then how would Wilbur know where they were? And how did this room appear out of nowhere when you swore you knew this floor better than others. It turns out that perhaps you weren’t as familiar with the castle as you originally thought.

“Welcome to Wilbur’s Army!” He exclaimed, finally removing his arm from your shoulders to emphasize on his welcome.

“You’ve got to stop calling it that.” You heard Harry Potter say. “And you’ve also got to stop bringing in random people without telling us,what if Umbride followed you guys or something?”

Suddenly feeling out of place, you looked at Harry with an apologetic smile before saying, “I could leave if you want, I didn’t even know I would be brought here Wilbur just came up and—“

“No no it’s alright, you can stay. We could use someone like you here, you’re pretty good at DADA last time I checked.” Harry said, cutting you off.

Looking towards Wilbur, he gave you an encouraging smile before you turned back to Harry. You didn’t have to say anything for him to know you had agreed to join them nor did you have to sign an extensive contract like you’ve seen Malfoy do for the Inquisitorial Squad. All Harry asked of you was to sign a paper that other members had already signed and ought to keep it all a secret.

Once you had finished signing your name, Harry assigned Wilbur to give you a proper introduction to what they’re doing and what today's meeting was about while Harry went to talk with Hermione who was sitting comfortably on a bench with Pansy Parkinson. It was a sight you’d never expected to see, considering how the two were at each other’s necks the first three years at Hogwarts but it seemed that things have changed.

“I was surprised too.” Came Wilbur’s voice who now stood beside you, watching as the Slytherin pulled the Gryffindor into her arms, nuzzling into her neck as the sound of their laughter echoed through the room. “Did you know they’ve been together for nearly three months?”

Quirking a brow at the new information, you looked up at him to see if he was joking but when no traces of lying could be found on his face, you had no choice but to take his word for it. “I didn’t, which is surprising seeing as I’m her friend.”

“It’s probably nothing personal, perhaps she thought you’d hate her for dating a Gryffindor for whatever reason.”

As you were about to say something, the voice of Harry Potter cut you off. “If everyone is now here I think we better get started on todays’ meeting!” He announced to the room who stopped what they were previously doing to join him at the center of the room.

Behind him stood Ron Weasley, who was holding a stack of textbooks. Harry turned to him and grabbed the first one off the stack and flipped through the pages until he came across the page he wanted. “Today we will going over defensive charms��…and hexes.”

He looked over to Pansy who had a grin on her face at the mention of hexes. She was strangely good at them so it came to no surprise that she looked as excited as she was at the sound of them.

“To demonstrate, why don’t we have Pansy,” Harry trailed off, slowly scanning the room before pointing his finger at you. “And (Y/N)! I’ve seen you in charms, you’re quite good, brilliant at them, let's have the two of you duel for demonstration.”

You could feel the heat creeping up your neck as Wilbur gave you a pat before pushing you towards the center of the circle where Pansy waited.

“And for those who don’t know, this is (Y/N)! A fifth year in Slytherin who was invited by the courtesy of Wilbur.” Harry said. A few students gave you warm smiles while others didn’t show much emotion at all and some gave you unpleasant looks.

“They’re quite terrifying in charms, good but terrifying.” Ron added, shooting you a smile which eased the nerves of feeling unwanted despite two other Slytherins being here.

“Best of luck.” You heard Wilbur whisper as you stepped towards the center of the circle.

It was then that Harry began going through the rules of the duel and the purpose of it all. Admittedly though, everything he said was going in through one ear and out the other no matter how hard you tried to focus, there was no point. You just barely heard him announcing the start of the duel when Pansy attempted to disarm you but was just a second too slow, allowing you enough time to deflect her spell and shoot a stunning spell at her. This went on for longer than originally expected, lasting nearly ten minutes before the sound of Ron dropping a textbook on the ground made you turn your head, allowing Pansy to successfully disarm you and win the duel.

“Ronald!” You heard Hermione scold while you bent down to pick up your wand, only to be interrupted by a hand who also went to pick it up. Grabbing it before they could, you looked up to see Pansy with her hand still outstretched to pick up the wand you had already retrieved.

“I uh, I just want to tell you that you did really well.” She started earning a questioning look from you that prompted her to continue. “And I wouldn’t have won had it not been for Ron-”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” You cut her off and she sighed.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Hermione and I. Admittedly I wanted to, I actually planned on telling you later this week but I didn’t before because I was scared you’d hate me.” Her words got quiet at the end but you still just barely managed to catch what she was saying.

“Hate you? Why would I hate you,” Your words trailed off as you finally realized what she meant. “Oh Pansy, I could never hate you, especially for that. I’m sorry you couldn’t tell me when you felt you were ready though.” You said as you pulled her into a hug and every wall she kept up to keep a cool and collected demeanor crumbled. It was nobody's fault that she had to do it earlier than she originally wanted but you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt she cried into your shoulder.

Sensing that the moment was of importance to the both of you, Harry quickly caught the attention of everyone else and led them to the otherside of the room where he continued on with the meeting. You made a mental note to thank him for it before returning your attention back to Pansy who had stopped crying but was still obviously overwhelmed.

“I’ll be right back.” She told you before heading towards the door and leaving, from the corner of your you could see Hermione begin to excuse herself from the meeting and follow after her. She gave you a smile as she passed by you, a gesture you returned before turning on your heel and heading back to the group.

You found yourself by Wilbur’s side who towered over the group of students. That was probably why he stood towards the back of the group you thought as you attempted to pay attention to what Harry was currently explaining. Something about stance during dueling?

“Everything alright?” You heard Wilbur ask, his eyes still trained on the Gryffindor at the front.

“Yeah, Pansy just needs a moment to collect herself.” You replied. Wilbur nodded, seemingly content with what you said.

“Why did you invite me here?” You asked and he finally turned his head to look at you.

“Because we could use someone like you here, just like Ron and Harry said, you’re great at charms and not everyone here has that gift.” He responded simply but something didn’t make sense. Your skills in charms were that of ones taught in a classroom, not for fighting and battles like the DA was preparing for.

“You already had Pansy, she’s better at me fighting wise so why have me as well?”

Silence. He turned back towards Harry, acting as if he hadn’t what you just said.

“Wilbur?”

“Hmm?”

“You guys didn’t really need me here, did you?”

A small smile appeared on his face as he continued avoiding your gaze but perhaps it was for the best. It meant he didn’t have to see your flustered face as he said, “Perhaps, but I wanted you here.”

tags: @lucy-malfoy07 @tsukilover11 @cuddleluv @sweetblueparadisebabyg @gryffindorgirl @annika0-o @rocketxgirl @debesteimanetje @vixxiann @nataliewalker93 @averyisbackinthetrashcan @killzandchillz @quinnowo @water-vevo @sparklykeylime @chaiteabeebee @hopeisnootfound @lemonnotade @dreamyender @denkisclown @yellow-aster @confusedcrayon @luluwinchester @shibble @its-9pm @bberee @liawhite3 @joyfullymulti @sufleorfs

[jamiesfootball]

Another piece of the leverage au I'm not fucking writing, damnit.

Under the cut for violence and Leverage-esque shenanigans:

At the first kick to the solar plexus, a shocked noise spilled out of Jamie's mouth. He hadn't been prepared.

"You don't fucking listen," Roy growled, winding his leg back for another kick. "What did I say? What did I fucking tell you when we first started?"

Jamie was ready for the second kick -- got his arms up in front of him just in time to intercept Roy's boot. He grunted, a sound too high and reedy to his own ears, and he tried to push aside the reflexive embarrassment at how loud it was, echoing off the walls as Bartlett and his cronies laughed and laughed.

On the third kick, he acted. He caught Roy's boot, wrapping his shivering body around it while the other man cursed. Roy kicked again, and Jamie's freezing hands scrambled for purchase against the leather, his nails digging into the collar.

"Come on," Roy scoffed under his breath, the same way he had when Jamie had held them up at the elevator. He didn't need to look up to know Roy was shaking his head.

Jamie bit his lip against the sudden, fierce wave of emotion building up in his chest.

His grip slackened, and Roy tugged his foot away with a violent grunt. He spat at the ground, missing Jamie by centimeters.

Bartlett tittered. His goons spread easily for Roy, welcoming him into the pack as the hitter rejoined their group. One of them fetched him a beer.

"Feel better then, Royo?"

Jamie closed his eyes; he didn't need to see this. His arms pressed protectively against his stomach. Hopefully they'd forget he was there.

"You don't know the half of it," Roy said, his rough timber carrying easily through the barren warehouse. A bottle fizzed open, followed by an audibly slurpy gulp and a relieved sigh. "The amount of headache's that prick's given me -- you wouldn't believe."

"No respect for their betters, these young ones." There was the tap of glass on glass- a toast. "Well, I've got good news for you. When we're done here, I plan to make a couple phone calls. You ain't the only one with a bone to pick with that little upstart. I know a few names who'd pay good money just to take a turn at him the way you did."

A beat of silence.

"Really?" Roy's voice stayed carefully neutrally, but even an idiot could hear that he was interested.

"What'd I tell you lads? Do I know this man or what?" Bartlett bragged. His men agreed, making all the appropriate noises for a goon chorus.

"So I do all the hard work, and you cash the check?"

Just as easily as flipping off a light, a threatening quiet smothered the warehouse.

Bartlett, the idiot, tried to backtrack fast. "Course I'd cut you in! A finder's fee. Hell, you could watch, if you're into that."

Another beat of silence, and then a low, dark chuckle that sent the hairs on the back of Jamie's neck to standing.

"You know me, don't you?" Roy remarked, sounding like a lion before the pounce. "Relax, Bartlett, I already got what I came for. You have your men wire over a cut of the haul, and that'll be the end of our business. The sooner I see the back of this place, the better."

Bartlett snapped at one of his men to initiate the wire. Roy rattled off the numbers.

When they were done, Bartlett laughed. "Roy Kent. A man of reason."

"Takes one to know one, doesn't it?"

"Yes it does."

Another clink of glasses echoed cheerily in the warehouse. Then-

"Woah, take it easy there, Kent. No need to rush when there's still the cleanup to..."

Bartlett trailed off and the goon chorus piped down. In the shivering silence, the sound of someone chugging a beer echoed disturbingly loud, like some sort of criminal underworld ASMR.

Jamie focused on not tensing his body; he didn't want to draw their attention.

Finally, smacking lips. A content sight. "Thanks for the beer, Bartlett. Would've been a shame for it to go to waste."

"What--"

At the sound of a glass smashing over someone's head, Jamie flexed his grip on the knife he'd snatched out of Roy's boot and sprung to his feet.

Roy had told him to wait for his cue, after all -- and it was his time to shine.

The little prick wouldn't stop grinning.

Roy ignored him. He dumped goon number five into the stolen ambulance.

"Check their pockets. If they've got anything that looks like a burner, Beard wants it back. We've got to make sure to wipe any traces of contact they might've had with Keeley--"

"You like me," Jamie sing-songed.

"It was a bit," Roy said through gritted teeth. "Hand me the body."

Jamie hauled over the unconscious man -- easily twice his size -- like it was nothing. The joys of youth.

With five other deadweights already filling up the vehicle, it was awkward angle to fit in a sixth. Jamie stumbled a bit, and Roy braced him upright. Together they maneuvered the body into the van.

"You can just admit it, you know. I won't ruin your reputation by telling everyone that Roy Kent's a softy."

Prick.

Jamie's usually styled pompadour was a flat mess from the fall in the Thames, and rolling around on the floor of an abandoned warehouse had lint-rolled a questionable layer of gunk onto his stylish clothes. He looked like a twit, leaning against the door of the ambulance while Roy did all the work tying the feet together.

Prick.

With his hair dripping into his eyes and a look of open fascination on his face, he looked like a kid who'd run through a sprinkler. There was far too much delight there for someone who'd been roughed up by a wannabe gangster. Fuck, and they still needed to check his ribs.

"He made us the second we walked in the door," Roy tried to explain again. "I needed to get him to trust me, to make him think I'd switched sides--"

"By making him think you kicked like an octogenarian?" quipped Jamie. "You barely made contact. If I'd been acting any harder, Rebecca would be out a job."

"I can kick you harder next time," Roy bit out, but even he could feel how toothless the words sat in his mouth.

"Sure, Grandad." Jamie beamed, smug and practically bouncing on his toes. "I'd like to see you try."

If Roy had less to deal with on his mind, he might worry about how sure Jamie seemed by the notion Roy wouldn't hit him.

"It wasn't a life or death situation. I knew we'd make it out."

Sure, Bartlett and his men had been armed, but Roy had dealt with worse. If it had been life or death, it'd be different. Roy would do whatever he needed to in those circumstances.

He would.

"You keep telling yourself that, mate."

[bruhstories]

Vogel und Jäger

Summary: You accidentally witness a murder, but the murderer takes pity on you. Pairing: Zeke Jaeger x Fem!Reader (mafia AU) Warnings & Content: murder, language, angst Word Count: 1.7 k

A/N: i've been dying for a mafia au with zeke so here's part one of the series Vogel und Jäger. i have two more chapters drafted, and i'll try to post for this series weekly so i can write some moooore for it.

Bang!

The blood-curling sound was familiar to your ears. A gunshot — followed by the gurgling of a man.

Bang!

Another shot and the gurgling stopped. Panic settled in your heart, making you jump back and knock the metallic bin which served as a shield against the perpetrators.

Shit.

Footsteps drew closer and you began to pray. Running was futile. Running was always futile. Your throat was dry, your mascara was smeared all over your cheeks from all the tears, lips chapped and bleeding.

Our Father, who art in Heaven...

The cold muzzle of the gun pressed onto your forehead and you shivered, breath hitching, eyes glued to the wet pavement.

Hollowed be thy name...

The Mafia never spared any witnesses, you knew that all too well, even if you happened to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

Thy Kingdom come...

"Hey, boss, we got a girl."

"Kill her."

"No, please!" You threw yourself at the feet and mercy of the armed man. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! Please, I'm only nineteen!" Through the sobs, your voice was still melodious, syrupy. So sweet that the boss stopped in his tracks.

Thy will be done...

Another pair of footsteps approached, tentatively, not as eager as the first person. You still haven't looked up, too scared to even blink, to even breathe.

On earth, as it is in Heaven...

"Hand me the gun, Yelena."

"As you wish, boss."

You felt someone crouch down next to you, someone dressed in expensive clothing, by the look of the trousers and polished shoes.

Give us this day our daily bread...

"You've got a very pretty voice." He lifted your chin up with the barrel of the gun, chills running down your spine.

"T-thank y-you..."

"Can you sing, little bird?"

"Y-yes."

And forgive us our trespasses...

Finally, you looked at the perpetrator — spellbinding grey eyes, platinum blonde hair slicked back and a matching goatee. His gaze was either boring or pitiful.

"Lucky you, we're hiring."

As we forgive those who trespass against us...

Anxiety coiled in your stomach, words caught up in your throat. You were still praying, unaware if this was all a sadistic joke or a miracle.

And lead us not into temptation...

Dark lashes fluttered, more tears streaming down your beautiful face as the gears in your head turned in a desperate attempt to understand what was happening.

But deliver us from evil...

"Hiring?" Your voice went up an octave when you saw the small stag pinned to the man's chest. The Jaeger family — the most feared mafia family in Paradis City.

For thine is the kingdom...

"A pretty voice like yours shouldn't go to waste." He got up and offered you his hand.

And the power, and the glory...

Reluctantly, you took it, helping yourself up and chewing your lower lip.

For ever and ever...

"T-thank you!" You told him, slender fingers squeezing his hand tightly. "I owe you m-my life."

Amen.

"Correct. Your life, your soul, your eyes and ears." He walked you to a car and opened the door for you. "Yelena, take us to the club. We've got business to discuss with my little brother."

•°.•°.•°.•°

Your eyes wandered all over the soundproof office, situated one floor above and opposite the stage. Every inch of the bar, the seating areas, everything was visible from that room. You tapped a finger on the wide window, eyes narrowed at the idea that it might, in fact, be bulletproof. These men were not playing, and you were now their property. The door opened and you jolted at the sound of music filling the office as your saviour walked in with two other people.

"This is my younger brother, Eren. You already know Yelena. I assume you know my name."

You nodded.

"Zeke Jaeger."

"Good girl." Zeke was pleased with your answer as he poured himself a glass of bourbon.

"I thought we didn't spare any witnesses." Eren shot you a look that made you regret being alive.

"Settle down, little brother. Tell us your name."

"Y/N, sir. Y/N Y/L/N." You swallowed, fingers fiddling with the hem of your blouse in an attempt to calm your nerves.

"You see, Eren, Y/N can sing." Zeke opened a drawer and pulled a gun out. More guns, more panic. Your eyes widened and your plump lips quivered when he aimed the gun at you with one hand, glass of alcohol in the other. "Sing or I paint the walls with your brains."

Your legs almost gave in at the threat — you knew it wasn't an empty one, and with all the courage you could muster, you closed your eyes and sang the first song that came to your mind, fucking Kiss from a Rose.

Your voice seemed to coat the people with honey, all three of them somewhat relaxing at the sweet sounds coming from your vocal cords.

"See, I told you she can sing." Zeke put the gun back in the drawer and closed it, swirling the bourbon in his glass before finishing it.

"Where do you live?" Eren crossed his arms, still suspicious of you.

"Historia's." You told him, eyes drifting to the ugly fur rug on the floor.

"The orphanage?"

"Yes."

"But you said you're nineteen." Zeke intervened, a brow quirked at you.

"I am. I try to help as much as possible in exchange for a bed and a roof over my head." You explained, eyeing the white couch that looked so incredibly comfortable.

"Just sit down already." Eren scoffed and you rushed to the furniture, mumbling thank you’s over and over.

"And why were you on that street tonight?" Yelena spoke for the first time since you came to the club. You looked at her and she seemed just as suspicious about you as Eren.

"I... the man you k-killed... he was... I'm-"

"A prostitute." Zeke nonchalantly interrupted you.

It was true. People like you, orphans, didn't have the privilege of being properly educated and finding well-paid jobs. Paradis was a jungle, and you did everything you could to survive. Everything.

"Well on the bright side you don't have to do that anymore." Zeke shrugged as he sunk deeper in his chair, feet on the desk, but you sensed he wasn't entirely honest. "You do have a beautiful voice, and our last girl had some... business to attend to, so you'll be taking her place."

"Is this why you called me here?" Eren sighed, leg impatiently shaking.

"Don't be stupid, of course not. I need Armin to prepare this month's tax reports and I need you to keep an eye on the police. They're sticking their nose in our business again, and I want them out of it. You two can go. Y/N, you stay." Zeke waved his hand and Eren and Yelena left, music briefly filling the office again.

You twiddled with the cushion in your lap, waiting for your new boss to say something. Being in that room was nerve-wracking, and you felt the air grow thick. Eventually Zeke took off his glasses, fingers rubbing the bridge of his nose as he sighed.

"Sir?" You dared, voice feeble and frail.

"What?" He clicked his tongue and you instantly regretted speaking.

"Sir, I'm not educated, but I've been on the streets long enough to know that every man or woman has a purpose..." You placed the cushion back. "...and a price. What's my purpose? I doubt it's only to sing."

Zeke nodded, fingers tracing the wooden desk.

"You're right, it isn't just to sing. It's to distract."

"Distract who? And from what?"

"You're asking an awful lot of questions for someone who's just witnessed a murder. You best not go to the police." He narrowed his eyes, piercing your soul. You sighed and walked to the desk, taking a seat opposite Zeke.

"It's not... my first murder." You confessed to him.

"Oh? My dear, you're full of surprises. Pray, tell. Drink?"

"Yes please." You answered, throat dry as a desert. "I can't go to the police. And even if I could, I wouldn't." The drink earned a disgusted look from you, but it was better than nothing. "Two years ago, I ended someone's life. He deserved it, he broke into Miss Historia's orphanage and tried to... to..."

"I understand." Zeke stopped you. "And if you go to the police, they'd do a background check on you." He continued, satisfied that he had a leverage in case you decided to turn against him.

"Exactly. And Historia helped me so much, I wouldn't want to put her in danger. So, I'm asking again, distract who from what?"

Zeke walked to the window, telling you to follow him. He pointed at two men, a tall blond one, and a short brunette one.

"See those two? They're policemen. They work for us, but we suspect they're double agents." He explained before pointing at three other men. "Those we suspect of being Marleyan mobsters. You see, Y/N, we have a lot of enemies. And we must keep our guard up every second of our lives."

You nodded, perfectly understanding Zeke's words. Paradis was a chess board and only the filthy rich played — the rest of you were pawns.

"Sir, you spared my life, and I know I can't ask for anything in return. But please, please don't drag Miss Historia into this. The children there did nothing wrong." Tears pooled at your eyes, rolling down your cheeks and you wiped them with the back of your hand. "I swear my loyalty to you."

"For someone uneducated, you're extremely clever." Zeke's voice was serious. You half-smiled at the compliment, but you knew the mess you got yourself into cut your lifespan severely. "Can you shoot?"

"No, sir."

"It's alright, Mikasa will teach you. Sleep on the couch tonight, I'll have Yelena bring you a blanket. Tomorrow you'll swear an oath in front of the family. And if you want to protect Historia, you'll move out of the orphanage."

You nodded. You understood that mingling with the mafia endangered everyone you loved, but you couldn't stop yourself from crying the entire night. Historia was but a few months older than you, yet she gladly took you in when she invested in that orphanage. Now you had to leave everything behind for her safety — and yours.

[bellsyafterdark]

Ok so. Beginning of the pack relationship, still figuring things out. Before they fix everything w Din.

Paz submits the first time w fennec and boba, but afterwards I think he isolates himself for a bit, and Stews on it. lots of “ur an alpha, u shouldnt submit to another alpha, not one that HAS Din, even if he’s willing to share,” kind of thinking.

Eventually, boba and fennec end up cornering him. He’s tense and unsure, struggling with the fact that he dOES want to submit.

I think boba and Paz get into a bit of a tussle (not trying to kill or seriously harm, it’s more of a dominance thing, and Paz has convinced himself he wants to win.)

when boba manages to get him in a hold he can’t escape from, body pressed into the stone floor, he thrashes and struggles to escape. He snarls and snaps, trying to use his strength and size against boba, but he can’t get enough leverage to do much. “Shhh puppy,” Boba rumbles. “No need to fight. Can’t you be good?” “Not- your puppy!” Paz growls, baring his teeth. Fennec snorts, standing over them. “Yes you are. do you think it was just for Din?you know what we said. You’re ours.”

Boba teases him as he waits him out. “Hm? you don’t want this? Pet, I can feel how hard you are, don’t lie to yourself.” Paz freezes for a second, face going hot under his helmet. “I know you loved it when I fucked you… felt good, didn’t it puppy?” Boba suddenly adjusts his hold, and shoves Paz’s helmet to the ground, pressing him harder into the stone floor with his body weight. He grinds his knee against Paz’s crotch roughly, teeth flashing in a smug grin when the other alpha can’t stop a whine from escaping. “Submit.” Boba growls, his grip tight enough to bruise wherever his armor wasn’t.

Paz tries to muffle a whimper, wavering for a moment, hardly noticing how his hips buck up against Boba’s knee before he goes limp.

“That’s it, pup.” Boba rumbles, keeping Paz pinned as one hand gently strokes him between his armor. Paz shudders in Boba’s hold, panting heavily.

Feel free 2 add more to this, and if u don’t wanna that’s cool too! i. Have to write an essay now, otherwise I’d continue w this. I also feel like maybe boba n fennec would be a little bit more mean? but idk. Still getting used to writing them!

I love that people are getting the chance to practice writing for these characters, enjoy writing for this au, and I really don't mind what you guys do with them, your stories are your own and you're welcome to play. 💛

The first time Paz submits to Boba and Fennec, he's definitely trying to reconcile a few things about himself at the same time coming to grips with who Din appears to be now, and what is the nature of their relationship.

Boba and Fennec make it a point to put Paz "in his place" so there's no mistaking they're in charge but also doing what they do best, which is helping people discover what they're not even aware they need. It's a fine line between influence and manipulation, at this point they're still very bad at communicating their intentions, but they wouldn't push if he was clearly saying "no"' and they hadn't agreed to that beforehand.

Part of this is the interesting consideration of how the different cross-cultural attitudes about alphas present conflict vs what Paz actually wants for himself. He's hardly allowed let himself be taken care of. But more than what Bobannec similarly confronted with Din, is Paz sees submission as a betrayal of his responsibilities to protect the covert.

Although he's no longer at the covert, he still intends to return one day.

So until then... can he let himself try something different?

[destinywillowleaf]

Part of me wishes I hadn't tied to replicate Khurainese.

That's just Nahyuta's chant, with the top and bottom liens being pulled from the wiki and the middle rearranging the top to match the bottom.

This was the "process" from Dragon's Dog, pronounced "dorago nun noi" in Khurainese because I said so

I talked a lot again

I'm honestly having such a good time with this AU. The connections and reasons that worked in canon can't work anymore. Nahyuta isn't as intricately connected to the web of drama that is Troupe Gramarye, and Apollo isn't Thalassa's son that Phoenix can hire after the kid's stepdad winds up dead. Nahyuta can't detect lies, so he has to go about things in different ways. He can't really pick upon Olga's tell and conclude that she was hit, but instead might take the path where she claims not to have hit Smith, asking about why she's so adamant about Wright being a cheat even though she was the one who was helping Smith "cheat" to ruin Wright's reputation. He can't see the little movements in 4-2 and 4-3 but Trucy can, and she has to be the one to step forward and ask about what happened. She's probably unnerved by Brushel and Kristoph, though, because one of them was around after her mother disappeared and the other's tell feels like it's staring into her soul.

Apollo has the chance to hone his abilities - both his voice and his perceiving - and no matter how badly he wants to call his voice his "Dragon's Roar" there's the sinking feeling that Ga'ran wouldn't be too happy about it. I have a weird feeling that Apollo sort of knows what happened to Nahyuta (though not everything), and that comes into play when Ga'ran is using Rayfa as leverage to make Apollo do what she wants. He knows that she can't kill Rayfa because otherwise the blood of the Holy Mother would be "gone" due to the dwindling chances of Ga'ran having a child, and with the only yet individuals who could carry the bloodline perceived dead(Amara to the public, Nahyuta to all but Dhurke, Datz, and Apollo), Rayfa had to remain alive. He doesn't let Ga'ran know that he's aware of the situation, and the entire dynamic between Apollo and Ga'ran is one of deception and knowing the other's next move. It's a constant game of "I know you know" as they metaphorically circle each other.

Nahyuta absolutely has Plumed Punisher fanfiction, stored in a few full journals of rewrites and what he considers to be fixing the show. He doesn't know for sure tht Apollo is the Dragon's Dog, but he can guess(who else is that loud and that small), and maybe he's got his own character who wants to help but is forced away for reasons he doesn't understand (because even if Rayfa hadn't been born, Nahyuta still carries the blood of the Holy Mother and would still be a liability to Ga'ran's rule). His writing isn't amazing, all things considered, but a major part of that is leaving with a homeschooled-by-rebels-for-8-years education and knowing more how to fend for himself in the wilderness (they lived on a mountain for crying out loud) and not, say, how to write more complex sentences without just quoting the Plumbed Punisher.

The fic may or may not be one of the major reasons Clay decided to actually try to learn Khurainese.

Apollo and Rayfa probably have a weird sort of relationship, but they definitely have their moments. Mostly involving animals. And maybe braiding skills. Maybe those skills lead to an instance of confusion with Inga.

There's been at least one occasion where Apollo got into a yelling/noise match with a warbaa'd. It was... weird, to say the least. The "competition" was called off after the Royal Guard had been alerted and Apollo was privately disciplined after the fact(by taking his bracelet for a period of time). Rayfa thought it was hilarious.

Apollo is definitely more of a rebel at heart, and sometimes comes by to bring Rayfa to places she normally wouldn't get to see. Nothing too close to his old home, and nothing too far that they wouldn't be able to get back before she's needed for something. A sunrise from the roof of the palace, or a garden growing in a forest... Whatever he runs into as he's spending as little one as possible directly in contact with Ga'ran.

They're definitely both bitter over being the short one in their families(Apollo keeps saying she'll get taller because Dhurke was really tall and her mom's tallish; he doesn't actually know how tall his own parents were but he's going off of his adopted family) and have (jokingly) conspired to have Rayfa sit on his shoulders to make one extra tall person. They both love Rayfa's frog to bits and even though he prefers fuzzy/soft things, the frog is still cute.

Just in general I think Apollo would have more of a playful/carefree nature. It's not uncommon to see him chilling on a roof, out of sight to most except those who know that He's Just Like That. Part of the habit stems from being a lookout for five years, give or take, and part of it is just finding amusement whenever Ga'ran is looking for him and watching the guards pass under him without noticing that he's right there.

Apollo Justice, prosecutor of Khura'in in @greentrickster’s AU is done! Split the sheet because I couldn’t get it all visible in one shot.

This was probably the hardest of he sheets to fill out completely. If it wasn’t obvious, I took the more Khurainese/concept-based designs from Nahyuta’s pages and used them here, with the character actually living in Khura'in.

One of he hardest parts - as you could probably tell between the back and forth of it - was figuring out what to do with Apollo’s hair. Would it look better in the front, like his father, or would it look better spread out? I’m still not sure which I like better. There’s also one with somewhat of a rat tail ponytail but that was just for dramatics. The surprised Apollo at the top is a similar joke, because seriously what if his surprise animation were the spikes standing up like they usually do.

This got longer than expected so details under the break, as well as some AA6 spoilers if anyone still cares about those.

[jamiesfootball]

hey, it's leverage anon back at it again! do you think roy and keeley crossed paths previously in this au, maybe on opposite sides of a job where roy was hired to protect something keeley was trying to steal (and keeley wins obvi)? or do you think they've only heard of each other through word of mouth and when they actually meet, it's like the spiderman meme with them pointing at each other like "ROY KENT???" "KEELEY???"

Oooohhhhh

I do think that at first it's in the same vein as Ted Lasso, where they know of each other, they've moved in similar circles for years, their names are all over London but they've just never had occasion to meet.

I think the spiderman meme comes screeching into play when they have a Rashomon Job moment where they both realize they foiled each other's heist going after the same golden scepter on the same night and they're both like, "THAT WAS YOU?!!"

In Keeley's defense she was undercover as a waiter so of course she was rocking her Bjork wig with the purple stripe so people wouldn't take a closer look at her face. And there was this guy there, a real proper intellectual type, with the glasses and the sweater, and the look he kept giving her! Piercing eyes, like they could see deep into her soul. She was so rattled that once she went into the vents to make her move, she didn't want to come back out!

In Roy's defense he was at a low place, making the switch from hitting to retrieval specialist, and his hair was like. So long. So curly. Bushy beard. And he was wearing glasses he stole from a guy in the car park (and busy cursing himself because fuck he might actually need glasses), and he had a cozy nerd sweater on so like. Everyone was looking but it wasn't because they were looking for Roy Kent, they were looking for a different reason, you feel?

Meanwhile Rebecca's like "you BOTH were trying to steal my ex-husbands tacky golden scepter under my nose? While I was trying to steal it?" And that confuses Ted because, "If you were already married to him, why would you need to steal it? It's technically yours at that point," and Rebecca is like, "Exactly. I was married to him, Ted. Of course I wanted to steal it."

Meanwhile Beard is just side-eyeing Jamie who ain't said shit.

And the longer Keeley, Rebecca, and Roy go round and round the only thing they agree on is there was this skinny little teenage kid at the museum like on a fucking field trip and he was annoying like he was just constantly underfoot no matter where they went-

"Oh, I know who you mean! He was rather sweet. Kept asking for a glass of champagne- cheeky little thing."

"Was that the one who kept wandering off from the pack? Insufferable. Every time I thought I had an opening, security would interrupt to tell me they found a child wandering into the cordoned off areas. By the time I had a chance to intercept the stupid sceptor, someone had replaced it with a champagne bottle."

No, he was fucking annoying and he dogging Roy's heels and asking Roy questions about Rothko and Hockney ("It's not about the composition. The colors are richer because of the depth of the layers" and "Because he's a twat," respectively). Roy finally thought he got lucky when he nudged the kid towards a buffet table and he started scarfing down food but then the kid almost choked to death and Rebecca does remember that actually she had to take him in the back so they could make sure his parents wouldn't sue have some medical doctor guest take a look at him.

And now Beard and Ted are both just looking at Jamie, and Ted has a bit of a smile on his face, and he's just like, "Jamie? Do you have anything you want to share with the class?"

Jamie winces and admits it was his one and only cyber heist - drawing up a fake school record to get in with a field trip, writing a little program that would temporarily disable the security cameras and motion sensors- he'd done it as a dare to himself to see if he could do it. And- "I never technically stole it. Got as far as stashing it in my school bag, and then the bag went missing. Lost my homework and everything."

And now it's Ted's turn to look apologetic, "Well I am awfully sorry about your homework, but let me tell you- that essay you wrote on Napoleon? Really good stuff. If I was your teacher, I'd have given you an A."

And that's the record scratch moment because Ted? Turns out he was the """medical doctor""" who volunteered to go with Jamie, but was actually there to keep an eye on things for his old security company.

Also they shouldn't beat themselves up to bad about losing because the scepter was a fake. See, once he found it ("in a highschooler's backpack no less!" "no, Ted, we don't call them that here") he got to thinking that the whole thing was mighty suspicious so he did what any normal midwest man would do if he thought he was being taken for a fool -- he called up a friend he knew who'd been to prison and asked if there was a way to tell if gold was fake.

"Lick it."

"Pardon?"

"Lick the scepter. If it's real gold you'll be able to tell."

"...Okay, but for the record I just want it to be acknowledged how much trust exists in this relationship."

And that's how they all (failed) to steal Rupert Mannion's (fake) golden scepter (what a twat).