#might still change the title 50 more times but

[my5hiningstars]

min yoongi said, in spite of it all, we must survive

[visualnovellover]

AIGHT JUST HAD THE TIME TO MAKE THIS POST BUT ANYWAYYYYYY-

from my previous post I talked about how IW is talking about a Third, which a lot speculated as Sydney being the Third - which is understandable due to IW having unique text about Sydney (which is a lot compared to the other LI). If you don't know, here's what IW say in reference to Sydney (taken from the game's code in github)

But in the same code the Third text can only be triggered with an Awareness of 900, along with other texts that have vague mentions of the two entities (Auriga : trail (as one of Auriga's title is blazing chariot that's probably what it meant) & Virgo : six (six arms, six wings, you get the gist))

With that in mind, Sydney is definitely out of the question for being the Third, and the curious presence from the prayer room is in!

You're probably asking who tf is that- well it's something you can encounter in the prayer room once you're a member of the temple! It's a very low chance, but there's a designated necklace for it to gain 10% to meet it - which is still low but still! Here's the scene once you meet it!

Now moving forward, the reason why I truly believe that the curious presence is the Third IW mentions because whenever there's mentions of Auriga and Virgo there would also be a mention of the curious presence! Two examples for this is the prayer room and looking at the sky from the telescope at GH's tower. Here's Auriga and Virgo! (there's a change in text if your soft world corruption is above 50 or more! and i unfortunately have a shit ton)

Unfortunately I don't have a picture for the third scene but i did copy the text in the game's code so here!

You spot a shape you aren't familiar with. It doesn't match any constellations you know, but there's unmistakably a pattern present. It feels as though someone has made a horrible mistake, and something has been moved from its intended position. You feel dizzy, yet warm. When you try to focus again, the pattern is gone.

And all of this scenes can be triggered by wearing the designated necklace which are: holy, dark and stone pendant. The pictures are courtesy to the wiki.

And I'm sure you can already guess which entities the necklaces triggers. It also has some dialogue from Sydney if you're wearing it when talking to them in the library! (nothing to special! dark pendant has Sydney spacing out, holy pendant ofc has syndey saying how safe they feel wearing it, while the stone pendant has sydney who looks interested at the necklace and mentions how they've seen it before <- all of this is from pure/neutral sydney! i have no idea what the difference will be except corrupt syd will say that they still wear their holy pendant despite everything iirc)

Here's also a screenshot from Purityguy which is really solidifying my claim.

Also if you guys didn't connect the dots already, Auriga and Virgo is a real life constellations. And Purityguy said that we can find out what the curious presence's name is from the screenshot above.

Basing on the screenshots and lore in game the third/curious presence is a forgotten being from a really old religion. There isn't any more details we can get except the fact that IW might have some knowledge due to it being old as fuck and the only scenes (that i know of) is in the prayer room and the telescope.

After all this, it really makes sense why IW says the Third remains unfound. The two entities having followers/worshippers while the other one has been forgotten about as time passes.

I still haven't figured out what IW meant by the 'Until the Sands run dry' text but it's probably referring to the third/curious presence atp.

That's all I managed to brainstormed. Honestly, I put too much effort in dissecting the lore then I do in anything.... god

[soft-persephone]

I Will Be Your End pt. 1

Vampire!Fontaine x Vampire!Black!Reader x Vampire!Abel Morales // John Boyega x Black!Reader x Oscar Isaac

Explicit // WC: 9.5k // warnings: blood, descriptions of corpses, mild body mutilation, death, violence, mild abuse, horror, smut // masterlist // Part 2 //

music: Good People / by Majid Jordan

AN: Biggest shoutout to @megamindsecretlair her Vampire Tyrone fics have required my brain chemistry and changed my life! She is the biggest inspiration behind this fic so if you even slightly enjoy this one, go check out theirs! It’s truly beautiful!

Apparently it’s too long to make into one fic, so I will wait until next week to post pt2

I hope you enjoy!!

-

Where the fuck she at?”

Fontaine threw a chair and Yo-yo ducked, it smattered into pieces upon impact. Not satisfied, he flipped the coffee table and attempted to kick a hole in the couch, but she stopped that shit quick.

“Taine, Nock it the fuck off! I know you mad and all, but we still live here, and we ain’t got nowhere else to go!”

His breaths were rabid and heavy. His eyes glowing hard.

“Where. The fuck. Is. She?” He huffed.

Yo-yo licked her lips.

“It’s bad, real bad. You need to get to her fast,” he opened his mouth, probably to ask her the same fucking question again, but she stopped him with a raised hand, daring him to say something, “I tracked her like you told me, but she’s smart.. real smart.”

“That ain’t nothing we don’t already know. Yo-—“

“—interrupt me one more time.”

He sighed, shaking his head before sitting.

Good, God… finally.

“So boom!” She smacked her fist unity the palm of her other hand. “She only stops to feed in small towns, usually a racist or someone who tried to put his hands on her or other woman, all untraceable to the cops n’ shit.”

His face goes blank. The attitude he once had gone. She cohdi feel the power radiating off of him in waves.

He’s putting the pieces together.

“She’s in New York.” Her lips formed into a line, waiting for his response.

“How many body’s?”

“It’s more than 50.”

Fuck.

Tyrone knew she’d be pissed with him for the first few years, but not like this.

He didn’t think she’d actually run away from him.

He looked at the antique book he brought you.

What is was about, he didn’t have fucking clue. This was a book published before summaries on the back were a thing. It was so old it barely had a title.

You loved reading, like Yo-yo, and history and shit.

It was the perfect gift.

But now.. he might not even get the chance to give it to you.

“Call Slick.”

-

“Are you alright little one?” A voice from somewhere asked you.

It was so rich. He kept talking and talking.

You hummed.

He should talk more.

You could barely feel the blood covering your body. The fresh dark flood of it was dripping from your mouth. Falling down a similar path as the last stickier dried up drops.

You looked up and saw his glowing eyes.

They were golden, but not like the harsh metallic gold that matched Fintaine’s grills. They were an old gold like the moon. An old golden hued moon that connected every ancient moment to the present. Witnessing the tragedy that had befallen what used to be her life that had now become the eternal damnation she didn’t deserve…. That she didn’t ask for.

You might hate Fontaine and what he did to you, but you weren’t stupid.

Vampires don’t pop up out of nowhere and for no reason.

Fear clings to you, but you fight it back down your throat, swallowing it before licking your lips.

“I’m.. I'm sorry,” you started. Your voice sounded foreign to you. It was hoarse, croaky, and broken, “I don’t know all the rules to everything. I won’t make any trouble.” Your heart sank, “I just needed to rest for a moment. I can le—“

“Nonsense.” He doesn’t raise his voice or yell. It was just as rich and calm as the first time you heard it. You lick your lips once more. “What makes you think I want you to leave?”

His mouth wasn’t moving…

“Maybe I saw someone in distress and wanted to help.” He was smiling now. It was poised and polite.

If you didn’t know any better, right now felt like meeting a person on any other day. Like taking a stroll on a random day, in the daylight. Just like you used to.

You’d be walking towards campus for class only to bump into a handsome mysterious stranger, he’d be nice and help you up. Insisting he won’t leave until he knows you're alright. He takes you to lunch.

Leading you to no longer care how late you would be to class, just wishing the day won’t end, so your new found stranger wouldn’t leave you.

Were you in distress?

You won’t play the fool and deny it. But you didn’t like the sound of it either. You didn’t know this stranger. Only his voice in your head and his old eyes.

What do you do now?

Barely blinking, he was closer to you.

You registered the fact that you were sitting on the ground. Your legs curled up, bending at the knee and strown casually to your side. A body strown on the opposite side of you. Brutally mutilated beyond recognition, his chest split in the center, his flesh and guts spilling out like a wild animal taken down by a predator.

He kneeled behind you, holding your back to his chest with one hand as he caressed your cheek with the other.

“Did you do this?” He asked aloud, the breath of his voice falling softly on your forehead, tickling gently at your eyelashes.

His eyes were even prettier up close.

He was prettier than Fontaine.

You cursed whatever foreign power within you that led you to think of him, even now.

“No….” You answered, your voice still hoarse, “It was a werewolf.”

He pulled you tighter against him. Firmly, but gently holding your head to the side by a handful of your hair.

His mouth danced softly on the skin of your jaw to your neck. Worshiping the area with such devotion, it felt sinful. It felt wrong. It felt worse than the curse of being a monster forever.

His teeth sank into your flesh, filling you with as much bliss as he was taking, he wanted to be full of nothing but you. He wanted to consume you.

“Who do you belong to?” You heard his warm amber voice in your head.

“No one.” You silently answered back.

—

It’s been weeks, Slick.”

“I said I wasn’t no miracle worker,” Charles huffed. “I said, I’d see what I could do and as we seeing, it ain’t a whole lot.”

“Fontaine kicked his chair behind him as he stood up and Yo-yo stepped between him.

“Uh-uh, none of that! You remember what happened last time you killed a witch?” She hissed. “Your not putting me through that again, Nigga! I won’t let you!”

Fontaine smacked his teeth before turning around towards the window.

“You sure you can’t feel her?” He placed his hand under his shirt one more time before reaching out into the bond. He didn’t need to touch his chest in any way when reaching out to feel you in the bond that made you all a clan. It was more to calm himself down.

“Nothing.” Yo-yo sighed.

He had everyone in their clan reaching out in the bond daily to feel you, for someone to be able to either feel your emotions, dream about you, or see visions on where you were or what you might be doing.

And it was all failing.

Your connection was growing weaker to everyone everyday.

The only thing your bond was putting out was an insane amount of power. It could knock out weaker members into walls or send them flying if they touched it. For someone of your status, it shouldn’t be possible.

The only times vampires tell stories of fledglings growing insanely strong in a short amount of time was before they tried to overthrow clans from their masters, usurping the line before executing them in front of everyone.

What Fontaine did after he was turned…

“At least she stopped feeding everyday all the time.”

“But she’s been learning things.”

Fontaine’s eyebrows rose together in confusion.

“What you mean? How can you tell?”

“I don’t know.. I just can.” She shook her head with a heavy emotion everyone in the clan was starting to feel. “Something’s different about her. I felt this new person in the clan and I know you haven’t turned anyone since her.”

“She’s in the middle!” Slick slammed his hand on the table. “That’s why I say give me all the details! Every single time!” He shook his head. “ there wouldn’t been no need, to pull out my whole crystal ball and shit!”

“Will you quit whining!” Fontaine huffed, “and can someone tell me what the fuck is going on?”

“Yo-yo said she feels a new energy in the bond she can’t explain.” Slick fiddled with the hem of his sleeves, “that means she’s found someone else to pledge allegiance to.”

The air went cold.

Fontaine usually has a better grip on his influence and how it can affect the air around him, but when he was upset it came off fast and hard, filling up the room with fear and trepidation that only made it worse.

“No.” He shook his head. “That’s not it.”

“Fontaine, calm down. No one’s saying she betrayed you. We’re just weighing all the possibilities th—“

“I said, no.”

The intonation of his voice changed to something dark and layered with a power that made Yo-yo and slick unwilling still and stop talking.

“She would never.” Fontaine punched the wall.

“She would never drink another vampire's blood.”

—

Abel, cupped water into his hands and poured it over your shoulders, letting it cascade down your chest and your back. The water was scalding, but his hands were warmer.

His hands were gliding over your skin as if he were attempting to create you himself, or he was worshiping the expanse of your skin. Comiting every curve, bump, stretch mark, and stray mole into his memory. Basking at the feel of you and cherishing each millisecond in fear he wouldn't get another chance.

“What.. happened to me?” You asked, “every moment before now feels like a hazy fever or dream I can barely remember.”

“Bloodlust.”

“Bloodlust? I went on some crazy murder spree?!”

“No,” he smiled at your shock and you somewhat relaxed. Still not liking what had become of view, “you drank quite a large amount of blood in a short amount of time, and instinctively once you're in that state your body will only crave more and more in want of being more powerful.”

“I don’t wish to be more powerful. I don’t wish to be anything.”

Abel frowned at you, but ignored your statement.

You were a little disappointed, but you understood.

You didn’t have any friends to confide in anymore, no one to share your experience of existence with. You had no connection with anything anymore, human or creature, nothing else made you feel like more of a monster than that.

“How do you feel?”

“Better, I suppose.”

“No,” he tsked at you, “how do you feel?” His eyes flashed down at you, and you felt his energy quickly fill the room washing over you in a cocoon of warmth, rivaling the bath water.

You sighed.

There’s nothing more you hated then actively practicing and learning about what you now were.

At least, that’s how it was with Fontaine.

You reached deep within yourself. At your spirit or aura.. perhaps something deep within your mind until you felt this new magical essence that now lived within you.

It was bigger, louder.. but it still bore no color.

“I think I’m stronger in some way, but I still don’t know what color I’m supposed to see.”

“You are,” he gently grasped at your sides and lifted you up out of the water, immediately ushering you into a towel, “much stronger that is.” He patted your skin dry , before grabbing a glass jar with oil in it.

“Smell.” He lifted it to your nose.

“Hmmm.” It was a warm boozy vanilla with a hint of something spicy. “I like it.”

“Me too.”

The silence was comforting as you let him cover you with the oil and knead it into your skin.

You can’t remember the last time you had felt so at ease.

He gave you a white sweater that had to be one of his and wrapped you in a blanket as you laid on your side next to him.

He kept his hands to himself and you hated it.

You longed to curl up closer into him and let him absentmindedly play with the locs of your hair. Much longer now that they’ve grown since you’ve died. With plenty of time spent avoiding Fontaine in isolation from him and his goonies, you learned to retwist them yourself.

“How were you turned?” He looked at you with such somber eyes. They were brown just as Fontaine’s but they were much much warmer. Soft things they were, almost wet.

Was she such a sad site? Did he pity her that much?

Was she something to be pitied?

“I’m not sure. I woke up like this one morning in a random bed away from my home and my family.”

His face scrunched together, not just in confusion but sadness.

“No,” he paused, searching for the right words.”Did you consent?”

“What?” You were offended.

Who would ask for this? Only a psychopath would ask for something like this.

“No!” You both winced at how harsh you sounded.

“I did.” He gazed into the distance, looking more somber.

“Why?” You hope you didn’t sound as in disbelief and rude as you felt.

“My… my wife was turned by some random vampire, and once she finally put the pieces together and figured out what happened to her and by whom, she told me, and I asked her to turn me.”

“Oh.”

“Once she did,” he glared at the wall, …

“I had a vision. A plan for our future. . . our family,” he quickly smiled before his face fell into something dark you couldn’t describe. “Generational wealth.” He turned to you with an indescribably smile. His teeth flashed, charmingly so, but his eyes were something else that did not match, “but this. I couldn’t even imagine anything like this getting in my way. Our way.”

“What happened to her?”

“She.. passed.” He lifted his hand to brush your cheek. “She wanted to, and I didn’t hold it against her. We’d been alive for so long.”

“Why didn’t you. . . pass with her?”

“You ask so many questions.”

Had you been alive you swore your face would have burned.

You averted your gaze and focused on his hand on your face.

“Don’t be embarrassed. It’s endearing,” he pulled you closer, nestling his head on top of yours. You now felt embarrassed for an entirely different reason. “It makes you seem so.. human.”

You sobbed.

“I didn’t ask for this. Any of it.”

“I know,” he placed his hand on the back of your head, suffocating you against his chest and you welcomed it. “I know.”

You will yourself to stop crying. You were done crying.

“I’m sorry this happened to you. When someone is turned it must be with consent. It’s a relationship built on trust. Without it, the bond between master and fledgling is painful for everyone involved

“I have no master!” You argued. “Fontaine.. doesn’t do that.”

“Then how does it work between him and everyone he’s turned.”

You sighed.

“I.. don’t really know. He and everyone in town was somehow turned by this old vampire and he compelled everyone to forget it and to be his slaves or test puppets or something,” you squeezed Abel’s back, holding him closer to you, burying your face drier into his chest, “Fontaine killed him even though he was begged not to, and somehow, they All lived and he was the new leader.”

Abel froze and you looked up at him.

“Is that bad?”

“N.. no.” He pursed his lips. “It’s just unheard of, impossible even.”

He pulled back from you for just a second, looking into your eyes. He moved his hand from your back to the temple of your forehead.

He was looking into your mind.

Fontaine used to try it all the time and you always forced him out somehow.

When he was done he held you even tighter than before. Staying silent.

You thought perhaps he was done talking and just wanted to spend time tucked against you, deciding to sleep and talk about the rest of it in the morning, but you felt his tears fall into your hairline.

You forgot just how horrific what happened to you was. You didn’t always hate him, but now you do. Not just him, but how you used to feel about him.

You’ll never forget that night, and you’ll never forgive him for what he did to you.

Another person, well, vampire, had experienced the story of how you came to die, and they wept just like you did.

You pushed your feelings deep down into the colorless energy within as you’ve always done, and you willed yourself to sleep, wishing for the chance to make Fontaine hurt as you now did.

“Uhoh, someone’s getting a little too turnt!”

“Leave me alone!” You laughed at your friend. “Finals are over, and I can now let loose!”

You might take school a little too seriously, but you came from a home where education was what saved your parents from poverty and they passed that same lesson on to you.

It might be strict to some, but as you grew older you only grew to believe it just as much as your parents.

You wouldn’t have anything if this school shit didn’t work.

You weren’t raised to hustle, you were raised to study, so that’s what you did.

But now it was time to party!

You didn’t always go out with your friends, so the nights you did, were always special. Your favorite food and drinks were always there when you were, and all your favorite people.

Usually you were really shy and reserved, but one or two drinks and the edge is off! You can let loose and maybe even dance. Who cares what anyone else thinks? You're having fun with the people you love and the people that love you!

You're making memories and forming your circle. You dreamed of the big fancy job you’d get one day to finally be able to take care of yourself and live in your own place!

“Uhhh.” Your friend called your name with a badly contained smile.

“Yeah?” You smiled back.

She smirked and then threw her arms around you with a laugh.

“Omg, what is it? Just spit it out already,” you laughed back.

“What would you say, if I told you there’s a guy here with a crush on you?” You blinked.

A crush? On you?

You believed you were pretty. You weren’t that insecure in yourself, people just tend to make it very clear that you aren’t their type.

But this was new!

Your stomach fluttered at the possibility.

“I don’t know!” You laughed again. “But whatever happens, happens!”

Your friend squeaked again and wrapped her arms around you once more.

She was so drunk. You smiled.

“Do you mind if I sit?”

You looked up to see cool dark skin, and a yellow gold smirk of a smile looking down at you.

“No, it’s okay.” You politely smiled back.

He was everything.

He liked that you listened. That you didn’t judge him off his looks.You like that he didn’t assume you were stuck up just because of how shy and introverted you could be.

Conversation was easy. Blissfully easy.

You both probably talked about anything and everything. The big personal life stuff to every miniscule thought and hobby.

He’d never seen Star Wars before.

You are a basic gym person at best.

Some music you both liked, some music he liked you never heard of and vice versa.

“How come you're not scared?”

“Scared of what?” You almost wanted to laugh but you held it in. You weren’t sure how he’d react if you did.

“Of me, or like,” he smacked his teeth, “you don’t act weird and stuff when I talk about what trips me up as a drug dealer or get that silent judgy look. People think that by not saying anything they're being polite, but they don’t know it shows on their face.”

“I don’t judge people based on their life or choices. Just by what’s on the inside. Not everyone has the same chances or choices. We’re all just trying to make it. No matter where we start in life, it’s all toward the same thing.” You stopped and pondered for a bit, searching for the right words. “It’s the government and shit they’ve gotten away with they have us all over the place. Until we can change the system or something like that. . . and yeah.” You ended dumbly.

“Yeah?” Fontaine was practically cackling at you. He laughed loudly. The sound coming from his belly, his low baritone sounds of joy flooded your senses. His yellow gold grillz shining in the low light of the room.

“Just, yeah.”

“Well excuse me for not being able to break down capitalism and its effects on the wealth gap and disparity in America and how it relates to race in one sentence. I've done it enough in school. Which is over now, and I'm tryna take a break from it all.”

You’d never felt so seen, so understood. You could see yourself in him, and he saw himself in you. You both had completely different lives, you had different ideas for almost everything except where it counts. Aside from the basic black experience and the trauma associated with that, or little quirks and social similarities they’ve grown fond of as a collective. There was something more.

A genuineness. A mirroring of the part of yourself that you couldn’t put into words. Tyrone was your person.

That’s why it was so easy to let him take you upstairs. To let his hands roam across the expense of your skin. His mouth was so warm. He lathes at your neck. Dragging his mouth down towards your chest. He sucks hard at your breast until your panting and writhing. He moves towards the next one, doing the same.

You can’t tell where your body ends or his mouth begins.

“You like that?” He looked down at you with half a pearly white smirk. When did he take his grills off? You didn’t know.

He was so calming. He crashed into you like a wave. When you first met on that couch you could feel him pulling you in towards him. The waters of his soul were cool and tranquil, and you’d happily float in the body of it all night. Now as things grew more intense as he mouthed at you, and you clutched at him just as desperately.

“Fontaine.” You moaned his name like a prayer.

He responded with a similar prayer of your name on his lips.

You were drowning in him. The wave of his entire being crashed against you, suffocating you as it flooded over and over your head until you were so far gone underneath the very waters of his essence, of him, you couldn’t breath.

“Who knew such a fat pussy could be so tight?” He lapped and lathed at your skin.

The slow growing ache within you was getting stronger and stronger. Your own desire was eating you alive, burning and festering within you. It was too much. Everything felt so good it hurt, so when he decided to bite down into your flesh, everything within you seized. Tightening in response, screaming for more.

“You like that,” he praised slowly into your neck, “i’an know you was like that.”

He pushed your legs up by your thighs. His hand sliding along your skin as if he was remolding you, reshaping you in his image before he destroys you with the very hands he pulled you out of the dirt with.

You whined, tears brimming in your eyes, but you couldn’t feel them. Fontain didn’t acknowledge them.

You wanted him to feel good. That’s all you wanted. You wanted to make him feel good so he didn’t leave you.

“—wanna be yours.” You mewled as he sucked harder at your neck once more until you made that sound again. He did it over and over again until you whined and panted for more, and he responded with another bite, much harder this time. His mouth staying on your skin much longer.

Waves and waves of pleasure flooded your senses. You arched your back to chase the feeling of his motuh, pressing yourself into him.

He released you with a wet slurp.

“You’on needa worry ‘bout that.” He pressed his dick against you, letting the head bump against your clit as he slid it along your folds. With each lazy movement your hips chased the feeling of his.

Fontaine responded by pulling his hips back, letting you feel every thick inch as he slowly pulled back until only the tip was inside of you before thrusting back into you. He set a slow enduring pace. Each heavy thrust of his hips caused a moan to fall from your lips.

He was branding you. With every thrust of his body into yours, with his hands on your body, with his mouth biting into your flesh. The sounds of his mouth on you matched the wet sounds of his slips slamming into yours.

He wasn’t just consuming you, burning you, he was molding you. Reshaping you not only into a new being but combining your souls. Molting them into one another, you didn’t know where he began and you ended, and you wanted more. No, you needed more. You needed him. You wanted to live for him. Exist only for him.

So you chased every feeling of his body, matching each and every movement of his hips, arched your back further to get that much closer.

It was a night you never forgot. A night you couldn’t forget. Each moment of bliss was now remembered with a matching thought of pain. With every new height of pleasure you didn’t know was humanly possible was now replaced with the thought that every single peak you reached was one step away from your life, your family, and what you used to be at your very core.

A robbery of your humanity.

But you didn’t know that when you woke up in a bed that wasn’t yours. Your phone nowhere to be found.

You were scared and alone.

But you remembered your night with Fontaine.

He took you away from everything, and you didn’t even get the chance to confront him about it while you threw up day and night. While you tossed and turned every waking moment with a headache that wouldn’t go away. While your stomach started to gnaw at your flesh from the inside out caving in on itself. You were hot and cold at the same time and always sweating. Everything started to blur and the sun hurt.

It didn’t help that the room was full of windows.

You had to resort to burying yourself in a hoard of blankets.

But when the moon rose high, you took your chance.

In your feeble weak state, you managed to travel around the foreign town you learned was called the Glenn. Hundred and thousands of miles away from your home.

You managed to find someone nice enough to talk to you.

“You a’right? You need to sit down? You wanta glass a’ water?”

“Please.” Your voice was horse and meak. You didn’t want to be so trusting of all these people you didn’t know, but they had to be better than Fontain or whoever the fuck he was.

You cleared your throat.

“Can I borrow your phone?”

You looked at the date, it could not be right. A chill ran down your spine and filled your entire body.

It’s been 10 years.

You couldn’t have been asleep for ten years! Were you somehow drugged out of your mind? Is that how? What has that sick fuck been doing to your body while you’ve been out of conscience for ten fucking years.

Fear and bile rose in your body and you threw up.

“Aye what the fuck!” You didn’t see what happened next as black clouded the corners of your vision and the world went dark.

However, you were still there.

And in a bath of darkness you focused on your grief and your anger.

You don’t know what has happened to you, but you do know one thing. Fontaine was going to die by your hands, and that thought of comfort let you slip into your first slumber of peace.

-

Yoyo treaded lightly around the corner. She stood still not to draw attention to herself. She watched as the slick black ornate car pulled up to the side of the restaurant. She watched as a man with heavily styled black hair and tan skin stepped out and handed off his keys. Impeccably dressed with a heavy wool coat too match.

“Shoulda went for a black one. Would have been real fresh too.”

Yo-yo bit the inside of her cheek.

“I mean the taupe beige isn’t that bad of a look. It kinda grows on you the more you look at it. But if he really wanted to ste—“

“Nigga, don’t nobody give a damn about his fucking coat!” She hissed.

Why Fontaine made her bring Slick along, she would never know.

“Slick opened his mouth to say something smart, but Yo-yo quickly cut him off.

“Shut up! There she is!”

They watched as he opened the door to the other side.

You stepped out in a gorgeous silk red number that had a leg slit and a low back. You had a white fur shawl that covered your shoulders. Gold dripping around your neck, ears, and a few of your fingers. There had to be some diamonds sprinkled about somewhere. With that type of money, there had to.

Situation aside, Yo-yo and Slick both let out sounds of approval.

“Shit, if I could get all that, I’d leave Fontaine sorry ass too.” Yo-yo murmured.

“As a man with certain avenues and multitudes, I can not hate another player. If you got it, you got it.”

Slick snapped his fingers, the rings on his hands clacking annoyingly so, and their clothes changed.

“What the fuck am I wearing?”

“What are you complaining for? He smacked his teeth. That’s what you usually wear.”

Yo-yo would have appreciated the little yellow thing she wore anywhere else, but not now.

“You saw what they were wearing! This place is classy! It’s nice as shit and they are not about to let a couple of raggedy asses in looking like this.”

“You see that’s your problem!” He raised a finger and Yo-yo had to interrupt him.

“Nigga, I know you not putting a finger in my face!”

“Will you calm yo’ ass down! All I’m tryna say is,” he dusted off his clothes, letting a harsh breath through his nose, “Fontaine made me come with you for a reason. It don’t matter what we wear, I can get us in.”

“Mhmm, you better.”

“Abel.” You warily said his name.

He guided you through a crowd with a hand tentatively placed on your lower back. Plush and luxurious with low thundering music. People were everywhere. But if you really focused and stilled your mind a bit, you could tell who was a vampire, and there were many, and who was not.

Abel was about to answer you, but a young light skinned man had interrupted the steady pace Abel and you were making through the crowd.

“H-hi.” He said softly and sweetly before cupping your face with a hand. He had to be around your age if you were human, boyish features made it too hard to tell, even if he had a beard. Close shaven and shaped well to match his face. . His eyes were a large bright brown as he battered them shyly at you. He had full lips that looked so soft and his lashes were so long.

“Um, hi?” You blinked, not sure what to do. Too many people were crowded around in their own world to care about what was transpiring between you.

You moved his hand from your cheek, and he took it as a sign to move his face closer to yours. You stiled. Even the slightest of movements would have made your lips touch.

“Can you bite me?” His voice was a sultry pant, almost a whine.

Blood rushed through your senses. You noticed it now.

The smell of it in the room. The humans straying around from vampire to vampire.

Something on your face must have changed. Maybe your eyes flashed because his lips parted just a tad more and his eyes almost rolled back.

You leaned in closer, your lips grazing his neck before you felt Abel’s hand slide from your back to your arm, roughly pulling you back.

“She’s on a diet.” He didn’t yell or raise his voice, but his tone was clear cut and dry with plenty of bite.

He raised your hand to reveal the glowing purple glow stick bracelet.

“Oh.” The stranger pouted his lips, causing a rush of something to burn deeply within you, “well,” he fiddled with his fingers, “when you're not on a diet can you come back? I’m here almost every night.”

You turned to Abel, not sure what was happening.

“She’ll think about it.” He patted him on the shoulder before placing his hand at your back once more and led you through the crowd.

Going up steps, he let his hand fall from you, but you couldn’t find it in you to step away from him.

“This is a nightclub for vampires?”

“And humans.” Abel said casually before stopping someone and ordering a few drinks.

“Wristbands are color coded.” He led you to a cornered booth before guiding you in and sliding after you.

“Red for feeding vampires, green for those willing to be bitten, yellow for humans who don’t, and purple for vampires who are on a diet.”

You looked at your purple wristband with a frown. A gnawing sensation swelling within you.

“But I—“

“— have had more than enough.” He sighed as he saw your face fall, “look. Bloodlust is a hard thing to come back from but enough time has passed where you aren’t jumping on any and everything with a pulse.”

You nodded at the reason in his words.

“Who are we here to meet anyway?”

Abel twisted the ring around his finger and crossed one of his legs over the other one.

“The vampire who helped me after me and my wife were turned.”

As the waiter placed down your drinks, a figure appeared out of nowhere. Eerily still and quiet as people bustled to and fro around him. His gaze fixed on you and Abel.

His hollow black eyes reflected the light and surrounding colors in a strange effect you could barely understand. His equally dark and plain clothing was just as off putting.

“He is ready for you.”

Abel took a quick swig of his drink and ushered you out of the booth.

He held you close to him as you both followed the strange man.

“Let me do the talking.” Abel whispered in your ear. “If he tells you to do something, just do it and don’t protest too much.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but Abel rose an eyebrow at you as his mouth twisted into a tight thin line.

“Most importantly,” he whispered in your face as you both climbed the steps to an intricate door to a room that looked over everything, “follow my lead.” His eyes flashed in the familiar old gold you’ve grown comfortable gazing at, but in this moment it made your veins run cold.

“Abel,” a man who looked strangely familiar to him, stood up from behind his desk to dutifully shake Abel’s hand with a formal and polite smile, “it’s been so long. To what do I owe this rare pleasure of a visit from you. Everything is well at the office?”

“Yes, everything is fine, but I have a request to ask of you.”

At that moment, the man looked at you and his eyebrows rose into his hairline.

“I see.” He corrected himself with another polite smile and motioned towards the chairs in front of his desk. “Let’s discuss this in a more comfortable manner.”

He and Abel looked alike, but they couldn’t appear more different.

This man’s hair was much curlier, but does this mean Abel’s hair could be equally as curly?

He was turned much later in life. The evidence in the salt and pepper of his hair and the thick beard that suited his features.

Despite their few differences there was so much they had in common. In the formal attire they both seemed to respect and their equally formal mannerisms, but it was clear this man held some sense of superiority.

Not only in how he moved and acted, but how Abel, the most powerful vampire you had recently met, treaded carefully around this one.

It would have caught you by surprise if you weren’t feeling suffocated by a strange yet powerful aura.

It had to be coming from him.

“Forgive my rudeness, let me introduce myself. I am Duke Leto Atreides although not quite a Duke anymore. That was quite some time ago.”

You cleared your throat and told him your name, introducing yourself just as politely.

“It’s no trouble at all.”

Leto looked at you a moment too long with an odd look, like you had shocked him somehow, before his face fell back into its usual demeanor.

You looked at Abel to see if you had done anything wrong, but he gave you a small nod to reassure you that you had not. However, his face seemed to hold a look of concern or wary at how the Duke was looking at you.

“What is it you came to ask for?” He cleared his throat before turning his attention back towards Abel.

“Well, it’s not so much a favor for me, but for her.” Abel crossed one leg over the other and corgilly clasped his hands together in his lap.

“She’s a fledgling.” He paused, licking his lips and dipping his head down momentarily. His eyes briefly glowed before he slightly shook his head, “she was unwillingly turned.”

The Duke’s head snapped towards you with a frown. His expression of formal politeness was no more. It was quickly succeeded by a cordial disdain, regarded with frown, on your behalf.

“Impossible.” He placed his chin in the knuckles of his hand. “Who would do such a thing? The event of someone unwillingly turned surviving is rare.”

“What!”

You violently twisted in your chair to face Abel and he stilled you with a hard look and an arm across your body to keep you from speaking and moving more.

“That is exactly my understanding as well, but she is alive and well and recently recovering from a bout of bloodlust.”

Leto stood up with a look of thought, and Abel followed suit.

You rise with a glare, your eyes looking between them both. You tried to keep your composure, but you were failing on every level. You could feel your anger coursing through your veins. Whatever magic that had your heart thumping surged throughout your body. Your heart beating faster and faster until you couldn’t feel it in your chest. It was racing at such a speed you couldn’t hear and your vision started to blur.

Leto had two hands on the side of your face, looking into your eyes as you stood frozen in your rage. When did he start talking to you? When did he put his hands on you?

“W—“

“— calm down.” His eyes glowed into yours. An iridescent gray blue. Almost a dark indigo of sorts.

It made you think of the rain. A thunderstorm and how before its clouds burst, the lightning cracks. Seconds after, it’s followed by thunder pounding. How once it ends, there’s an eerily still that falls on everything. The dark clouds recede and a bright and sunny day materializes in a bath of melancholy of not knowing what had just happened and why.

It didn’t calm you down, but it slowed your heart in your chest, something within you was still seething at him.

He didn’t weep for you as Abel did.

His thumb softly brushed at your cheek as he studied your face. A calmness bloomed across his face. His polite superiority is gone, revealing just a man— a vampire.

He looked like he found something he once longed for. Whatever it was, he now found in you.

You looked over to Abel. His expression is neutral,, revealing nothing to you.

“Um, Duke…sir?” You cleared your throat.

He practically leapt back. Except it happened before you could blink and he kept his hands awkwardly in front of him.

“Ah, yes.” He dusted off himself and brushed his clothes. “Forgive me. I got carried away.”

He looked at you once more, but now as if he knew you.

“Is there anything you could do to help her?” Abel's voice was strained with a cordial air, clipped with an agitation.

You reached out to him. Brushing your hands through his hair to rest momentarily on his cheek.

He closed his eyes for a brief moment. His brow furrowing and his mouth twisting to one side before he slightly moved away from your hand.

His face was back to normal, but a nagging feeling within you told him he wasn’t. It made you ache with a need to dissuade whatever it is. You wanted to repay him for all the moments he’s calmed you down and made you feel warm these last few days.

Being with Abel made you realize just how much distress Fontaine had you under. How rage got you out of bed in the morning and hatred got you through the day.

Being with Abel made you realize just how exhausting it was.

You were still learning how to exist in a calm state. How to let go of your thoughts and anger and take things one at a time.

“I can help break her tie.”

You shared a look with Abel. Your eyebrows rose into your hairline and your mouth agape. Leto’s words seemed to put Abel at ease. He unbuttoned one of the buttons of his suit jacket and held a fraction of a smile before he turned to face him.

“It will be very painful, but I—“

He paused. His ears tinging red as he cleared his throat and averted eye contact from you.

“May I,” he licked his lips, “may I have a taste of your blood?”

You looked into his eyes. It was a mistake.

They glowed with a dark unrelenting gaze. His bashfulness was no more, either way, heat rushed throughout all your senses. Your eyes fluttered as you looked anywhere but him.

“Yes.” You quickly stuttered out. “It’s—

“Are you sure?” He interrupted you and moved his head into your line of sight. Suddenly, filling up your personal space.

You blinked repeatedly and stared dumbly in response.

No one had ever asked.

You nodded silently and he only raised his eyebrows at you.

“Yes.” You said softly but with more determination than before.

With careful hands he moved your head to the side.

Burning, his mouth was burning you.

His mouth felt like hot coals being placed on your neck. He cradles your head towards his chest as if he had done it a million times. His mouth moves along your skin with the fury of a thunderstorm, swollen with the humidity of the summer air. Unrelenting and smothering, he finally bit down, something within you breaking. The evidence of its lightning touch was the thundering of your heart in your chest.

You don’t know what to do with your hands. You run them along his chest, his back. You push and pull at the fabric of his shirt, of him. All you could smell was him.

He was all you could feel.

Slowly raising his mouth from your skin, you both pant with heaving chests as you watch the small trail of blood that connects from his mouth to your skin.

Without missing a beat, he laps at the small holes left on your skin. You can’t help the moan that spills out of you, and he closes his eyes.

You slide your hands from his back into his hair.

Desperate to pull him in once more.

When he opens them, neither of you say a word. The glowing storm clouds of his eyes transform into something so dark it’s a wonder they still glow at all.

Without breaking eye contact, he swiped his tongue along his lips to taste more of your blood. Your eyes dart across his face, desperate to catch each movement.

He moved closer to you, mouthing along your neck and sniffed deeply at your skin, pushing his nose firmer against you. He breathed out of his mouth. The warmth of his breath searing into your pores.

You couldn’t take it.

“One more,” he panted into your neck. “Just one more.”

“Please.” You practically pant back into his mouth.

You aren’t aware of much of anything at this point. You're lost in tides of air and whirring winds and you aren’t sure you want it to end.

As he pulls up to you once more, you surge towards him in unison, unaware of just how much strength you were using.

He makes a small oomf sound as you thud into his chest. He puts his hands at your hips and holds you tentatively.

Your mouth clamps onto his neck with just as much fervor. You felt more desperate than he did. You felt like you weren’t as sensual. That you sucked and slurped at his skin like some rabid creature, but the sounds coming from you told you just how wrong you were.

His pants were growing short, sharper, almost transitioning into a low keening wine.

“Fuck.” He whimpered into your ear before pulling you off of him by your hair. An action you would have taken into offense if it was anyone else, but right now after what you both had done, you don’t know what the lines of inappropriate and appropriate were anymore.

“And here I thought I was the only woman for you.”

You both took a step away from each other. Leto straightened his posture and clasped his hands formally behind his back.

You stood wide eyed.

She had your face. Only a bit older in comparison, but you knew your own face when you saw it.

“I think it is past due time for Abel to have another lover.” A man had interrupted. And not just any man, but a man who was the spitting image of Fontaine, save for the African accent and no beard. His hair was much tamer in style, and he had an equal air of superiority that Leto carried, and he seems like the type to not play about it.

He was better than everyone, and he wanted anyone who crossed his path to know it. He barely made eye contact with anyone else in the room. The only reason he seemed interested in your existence was because of how you and Leto seemed lost in one another moments before.

“Forgive me, my love.” Leto cleared his throat and avoided eye contact with you as well. His ears tinging pink before he continued. “I assure you I have not taken up a lover of any kind.”

“No?'' She stepped closer to Leto and ran a hand through his hair.

His shoulders fell into a more casual posture, and his expression softened.

“She’s a fledgling.”

“I think it's time we made our leave.”

You turned towards Abel.

His voice did not reveal his feelings, but from the look in his eyes and the slight frown on his face, it was clear how he felt. A storm of guilt brewed in the pit of your stomach. You had only been with him for a short period of time, but you couldn't help the feeling that you committed some type of betrayal. However, not out of some loyalty, that he was some sort of only being you could be tied to, or that he was some sort of lover, but you felt some type of way about having that moment in front of him.

You still would have done it. You dont regret it in the slightest, but he shoulnd’t have been here to see it.

You sighed. Not caring to hide the agitation in your voice.

“I would love for someone to explain to me what that means instead of acting like I don't exist.”

Everyone turned to look atr Abel for some reason, and that irritated you even further. The rage boiled over within you. You could no longer see who or what was in the room, only what you were feeling.

“I know, through the magic, it feels like she's been a vampire for ten years, but if you’ve heard her story, it's only been for a short amount of time .” Abel said through his teeth.

“Well. . .” the woman who looked like you started. She eyed you up and down hungrily, “If she currently doesn’t belong to anyone. . “

“No.” Abel grabbed your arm and moved you behind him.

“I only made an agreement with him, and I don't have any allegiance to you whatsoever.”

“I understand her position of not being taught the proper edicate for how things work amongst us, but for you Abel there is no excuse!” Leto raised his voice. His eyes a startling eerie glow of a stormy blue-grey.

A wave of energy would have knocked you off your feet if you didn't grab Abel’s arm in time. He was much stronger than you were, so he didn’t seem to be affected by whatever invisible wave was swirling around in the room. He uncharacteristically glared at Leto. His apparent disrespectful attitude unwavering.

The man who had the same face of Fontaine looked you and Abel down with a pathetic disdain.

‘Where is the other one?” He asked as if he was offended that a copy of himself existed.

“What other one?” Abel spat. His eyes closing and his shoulders scrunching up as he waved his arms.

“What the fuck,” he yelled, his fangs bared and his eys glowing a dazzingly dangerous yet beatiful yellow, “is going on? What aren't you telling me?”

“Abel did you not tell them?” the woman with your face smacked her teeth and looked back at Abel with a glare.

“I was getting to it.” He looked much more sympathetic.

“It looked much more like you were about to put your tongue down another woman’s throat if you ask me.”

“Enough!’ she turned back to give the man a look. “Does it look like I care? If you can’t stand to be in the same room as Leto so badly, then you go find Jay!”

He smacked his teeth with a frown, and then suddenly looked over to you.

The sound and look on his face at that moment made him look so much like Fontaine. Anger rushed through your senses once more.

“Wipe that look off your face.’ He scoffed at you before making his way out the door, “I promise you, I hold no resemblance to whoever this other vampire may be.”

He spared one more look at Abel. This time with much less disgust.

“Follow me.”

Abel looked towards you instead.

“Go.” Leto commanded and Abel glared at him.

Silently, he followed. Not bothering to hide his frown.

You eyed him trepidly.

What was all this about?

-

Yo-yo didn’t like the sight of this.

A woman who looked just like you but at least ten years older walked in. Behind her, a man that looked just like Fontaine.

He kept his hair in a sizable fro on his head with a proper edge up that was faded at the temples. A smaller amount of facial hair that was way better groomed than Fontaine would ever attempt.

He was just as fancily clad as the other two men that looked alike.

“This is bad. She’s drunk that other vampire’s blood.” Slick whispered into her ear.

“Shut the fuck up before someone hears us in here!” She whisper-shouted at him.

They had snuck in, but whatever glamor Slick had placed on them had only lasted so long.

Yo-yo chewed on her lip as she watched you all sit down on a large couch. This vampire was just as strong as the one called Leto. Not only that, but she also had your face.

That meant big things. Things they couldn’t change.

A prophecy or some shit.

“Is that why you kept looking at me so strangly?” Yo-yo watched you ask. “Because you know. . .her?”

“He’s only ever met me like this.”

You nodded. Not really looking at either of them, making the woman frown in sympathy.

“My name is Shante.”

“Why do you all have our faces?”

Shante shared a look with Abel.

“Straight to the point I see.” She smiled. “I was the same way when it was my first time. I know it must have been hard and confusing.”

“Hard and confusing is an understatement.” You huffed bitterly.

She let out a short sigh, more out of nerves and not frustration.

You looked up at her oddly.

Yo-yo could only wonder why.

“I won’t hold you long or beat around the bush.”

“I think that’s best.” Abel clasped her hand in his.

“If you want to get technical, we are the originators of these faces and you all are our dopplegangers.”

You nodded, wringing your hands in your lap. “I think I know what those are.”

“You're always going to have a Leto and a Ghezo.”

Shante leveled at you with a serious tone.

This made you leap up with a hiss, baring your fangs.

“I don’t need Fontaine!”

“But you do.” Shante stood up and hissed back at you. “Without him you will never know peace. If you kill him, you might as well kill yourself too!”

“Good!” You screamed! Your voice sends a shock of power throughout the room making everyone still, even Yo-yo and Slick.

“What?” You broke the silence. “What’s so surprising about that after everything I’ve been through?”

“Forgive me,” Shante abruptly sat. “I didn’t know things were that bad between you.”

You sat with a self assured huff. Appearing more calm now that no one was about to tell you to get over your emotions.

“What makes you so sure, I need him?” You swallowed, looking straight ahead and not making eye contact with anyone. “What makes you think I could get over it?”

But everyone knew what you were really asking.

“I once was mad just as you were.” Shante said softly.

You looked at her with watery eyes.

“I was turned just like you.” Shante looked at her and Leto’s hands clasped together in her lap. “Ghezo had made a deal with someone. They promised him an eternity of power. . . But they also warned him about the cost. The people he would lose and now he’d never get close to anyone.”

She drew in a shaky breath and you cooled closer to her. She smiled softly. A tear falling down her cheek. Leto wiped at it with his thumb.

“He talked with all of us, his wives. Some said yes without thinking, but I said no.” She looked up at you, with a stream of tears falling down her face.

Yo-yo wiped a tear of her own as she watched you both cry. Slick put a hand on her shoulder, and she didn’t brush it away.

“I was in love with being human and the idea of cheating death didn’t sit right with me. Long story short, I woke up like this, against my will.”

“What did you do?” You whispered.

“I left him. I left my home. . . And then I found Leto.”

“So. . . You stayed with him and for some reason just forgave Ghezo?”

“I wish I could tell you more, but you and Abel have to find your own way. . . And Fontaine.”

“I’m going to kill him.”

Yo-yo couldn’t hear anymore.

“I think we got what we came for.”

Slick didn’t say anything. Nodding, he snapped his fingers, and they were both gone.

[awwfur]

WoF x TWST. Yuu, Grim, and the great seven.

Master post More WoF x twst AU! More info and rambles past here

(And size chart at the bottom cause I know WoF sizes are wack)

Makes the most sense to start with Yuu first, yea?

Yuu: They get to be human still! Yay them! In this AU I wanted scavengers/humans to be extinct. Why? To make Yuu even more outta place. There’s a bit more to them as a character, but I’ll save that for the writing of the AU.

Grim: I played with the idea of making him into some kinda cat-like fantribe. But settled on making him still very cat like but with more dragon like qualities. Also bigger. And I’m still playing with the idea of him having a smaller form closer in stature to him cannon size. (So he can still ride on Yuu and have something unique to him) He was really fun and really hard to figure out, cause I almost made him more wild cat looking, but I didn’t end up liking it.

(I don’t plan on giving the ramshackle ghost their own full fledged refs, or even just head shot/bust refs. Apologies to all.)

and now onto the seven! Who I’ve turned from Disney Villains into WoF villains/antagonists (they are in order of left to right too to bottom)

Queen Scarlet: “The Scarlet queen” I know that an icewing might have been more fitting, with all the rules they have. But! I went for color pallet. I’m also heavily bias. So Scarlet gets to be queen of hearts

Queen Wasp: “The Queen of Tribes” a big reason for picking Wasp over Blister in place of scar is the fact that, well, she did rule over the silkwings for a good 50 years give or take. And I have this head cannon that she’s fair more clever than she’s depicted in the books.

Albatross: “The great seawing animus” I REALLY wanted Ursula’s WoF substitute to be a seawing. And there was NO WAY I was using whirlpool. (If you know you know) also I have him holding the drawing for the summer palace

Blister: “The sister of Brilliance” If this clever villain wasn’t getting to be the Scar stand in, she was going to be the Jafar stand in. (And yes I drew her holding the eye of onyx. If you know. You know.)

Chameleon: “The beautiful shapeshifter” okay. Scarlet would have gotten to be the Evil queen stand in if I wasn’t dead set on making her the stand in for the queen of hearts. So I had to pick the next best character. That being Chameleon. I don’t have any big reason for him being the Evil Queen besides the fact he has those scraps of scroll to turn into a few other tribes (I can’t remember if there were more than the Icewing, Nightwing and skywing. Because I wanna say he had four tribes he turned into) and also I have him holding Darkstalker’s scroll

Queen Diamond: “The queen of Ice” another one who I just kinda picked the “oh ugh-this’ll do”. I mostly picked her cause of the spell she cast on foeslayer to keep her trapped. So I guess she gets to be the Hades stand in.

Darkstalker: “The Darkstalker” that title is subject to change. But since he already had one in the books may as well use it! Anyway, it only made since to make the most clever and powerful Wings of Fire villain be the Maleficent stand in. Drew him when he escaped from under the mountain because that pose felt like the most powerful one for him. (Although like scarlet I’m very bias)

welp that’s the WoF seven (shockingly hard to pick who would be who. Besides Darkstalker he was easy)

Size chart time!

The dragon examples are Skywings, and I’m of the belief that mudwings and nightwings are larger than skywings but I picked skywings to be the chart comparisons because not meany characters will be much taller or shorter than an average adult skywing. Well, besides the staff but that’s besides the point.

it also has Grim and Yuu because I feel it’s very important to know how tall these two are. (And if I give them exact measurements my brain won’t remember) I was also tempted to add in some kinda animal in here because we’re going largely with mega fauna and flora. But it made the chart crowded. But know I intend for even chickens to be larger than Yuu. (Or about the same hight not sure yet)

[have-you-read-this-short-fiction]

The future of this blog

Hey everyone! You might have noticed that I haven't posted in a while. No, this wasn't really a hiatus because I was busy like usual. You might have also noticed I removed the link to submissions, too. I've gotten a few asks, either asking about it or submitting something in place of the submissions link, too. I'm not trying to ignore you, I love you guys, but the reason why I've been avoiding continuing daily poll posting is because, well...

Im sort of contemplating the future of this blog.

Sorry, I know that sounds very dramatic, but it's true. In the past few months of the blog being active, the amount of voters on polls have gotten very low, sometimes less than 50, which is strange on a blog with over 500 followers. And like, that's fine. I am not owed votes on polls. But I would be lying if I said that that isn't disheartening weighed with the amount of work I put into this blog. It makes it hard for me to want to take more submissions and spend time making more polls knowing how few people seem to look at them.

A lot of other blogs like this I've noticed have started to wind down or stopped posting, too, so I'm wondering if it's the expiration date for many of us gimmick blogs.

I don't want to abandon this blog, though. I really love the community that we have garnered on here. There are still some people who love to see every post and like finding new things to read through it. I myself have read a lot of short stories and novellas and collections that I've only found because of this place! I've also found a lot of writers that I like here.

So, I'm going to make the decision to convert this blog to a "Have you read this piece of short fiction" style blog to a daily blog of shorts. In a few weeks, I'm going to reopen submissions and start posting a daily piece of short fiction instead. (i.e. "The story of the day is (short story title) by (short story author). Here is a link to it if you wish to read!") There won't be polls incorporated to each one, but I might incorporate polls in another way. I'll have more details up later on when I'm ready to start, but I will be changing the pinned post and url when the time comes.

For now though, expect more silence for a few weeks until I'm ready to start this new style of blog. I hope you guys like it and feel free to send me questions and feedback in the meantime.

[mamaestapa]

So There’s This Party…

•pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

•series summary: •Y/n Hubbard, the younger sister of Cincinnati Bengals Defensive End Sam Hubbard, finds herself in a difficult situation after a steamy hookup with her brothers best friend, who just so happens to be the quarterback for the Bengals. In just nine months their lives will be changed forever. How will Y/n and Joe manage to to go through parenthood together? more so, how will Sam take the news he is going to be the uncle of his best friends baby?

•chapter summary: Your brother Sam stops by your apartment to invite you to Zac Taylor’s annual Christmas party, will you accept his invitation?

• word count: 1.9k

•warnings: language, mentions of alcohol and sex

series masterlist

——————————————————

December 15, 2022

pre-hookup

Knock...knock

You let out a sigh of annoyance and put down your current reading selection: 50 Shades of Grey. You stood up from your spot on the couch and made your way over to the door of your apartment. Another knock rang out through your living room.

"Oh my,” you mumbled under your breath, “I’m coming! Just wait.." You yelled out as you got to the door and unlocked the deadbolt.

You were greeted by the face of your brother who had his hand up, getting ready to knock on your front door again. Before he could knock again and fall in through the door, he noticed you had opened the door, so he stopped himself.

He smiled, "Hey little sis."

“Hey Sammy, what's up?"

"Can I come in?” he peered over your shoulder and looked into the apartment, “or are you too busy?"

You shook your head. You moved to the side, out of the way of the entrance to your home, making a gesture for him to come in.

"Nope,” you sighed, “Just-."

Sam walked into your apartment, making his way over to the recliner in your living room and plopping his large frame down on the cushion.

You laughed in disbelief, “Make yourself at home why don't you?"

He chuckled, "Sorry, mom.”

You rolled your eyes and sat back down on your previous spot on the couch, tucking your legs up on the cushion as you sat down.

"So what are you doing here?" you inquired, curious to see why your brother came by out of the blue. It’s not that he's not welcome at your place anytime, he just usually let's you know ahead of time when he’s coming over. This time he came unannounced, which you thought was a little odd.

"Just wanted to come by and see my favorite little sister." he smiled coyly.

You shook your head as you said, "Uh huh…because that's a legitimate reason for you to come see me."

Sam threw his hands up in defense, "What?! Last time I checked, it is!"

You rolled your eyes once again, "Sam, the only time you come over here without letting me know ahead of time, which might I add, would've been nice to know, I don’t know about 10 minutes ago?! Is whenever you need something...important."

Sam bit his lip, hesitant to ask his important question. He let our a sigh of defeat as you gave him with a pointed look. “Alright, fine, you got me." he paused, "But why couldn't I just show up unannounced? I mean shit, you do it to me all the time."

You slightly blushed as he called you out. You hated getting called out by your siblings, especially when it came from Sam.

"Because,” you said, crossing your arms, “I was in the middle of reading a very important book, thank you."

Sam sat up from the recliner and peered over the coffee table to see the book that sat there. His face quickly turned into a look of amusement as he recognized the title. “Oh fuck, were you reading Fifty Shades of Grey?! Wait ‘till I tell mom and dad." He joked.

You laughed as you leaned forward and snatched the book off the table. “Oh my god Sam, shut up. It’s not like we're in highschool anymore."

Sam chuckled and put his hands behind his head. He leaned back against the recliner as he said, “True, but sometimes you still act like it, Miss. ‘I see red’."

You huffed out a sigh, crossing your arms in front of once again. “Sam, I swear, you will never grow up."

Sam raised his eyebrows, "Oh yeah? Well neither will you."

You giggled. He did have a point. “Touché."

Sam is your older brother. He’s 26 years old and you’re 24. You’d think by now he'd be more mature than he is, but you hate to say it, he’s not. Sam still has the mentality of a high school boy. Which, you figure isn't so bad, it does keep the Hubbard family entertaining. However, his maturity has gotten much better since he's became apart of the NFL and married his college sweetheart. But there's times he still takes on that mentality of a senior boy. Even though he can be immature, you still love him.

You looked up at Sam, raising your eyebrows, "But seriously Sam, what did you need?"

He sighed, "Well...you can totally say no."

You raised an eyebrow, confused as to what he was referring to. "Okay…?”

"So there's this party..." he began, "and coach wants us all to bring a "plus one". I refuse to bring Emma since she’s pregnant, and I couldn't think of anyone else to bring, so I told him I’d bring you."

You held your hand up to stop him, "Wait, so you're saying I wasn't even invited?! I work for your team!"

Your brother is Sam Hubbard. THE Sam Hubbard (obviously, if you haven't figured that out already). Defensive End for the Cincinnati Bengals. Sam has been with the Bengals since 2018, and you have been with them since last season working as their social media manager. Being a social media manager for any sort of professional sports team has been your dream job since you were a little girl. So of course when you were offered the job here with the Bengals, you had to take it. Your job consists of taking many photos and videos of the guys while they are out working hard on and off the field. You post updates about game scores, charity events, schedules, etc. All content you get, you upload to various forms of social media. You also get control of the teams twitter and instagram accounts, which you honestly think is the best part of the job. Sending out tweets, and making a fans day is what you do best.

"Zac said he just wanted it to be a fun night with the guys. No other work personnel were going to be invited,” Sam explained, “so don’t take it personal.”

"But I’m work perso-."

Sam held up his hand, "Coach likes you Y/n. He doesn't mind at all that I’m bringing you."

You laughed sarcastically, "HA! what makes you think I’m going?"

Sam rolled his eyes, sighing. "C’mon Y/n, please? It’ll be good for you to get out and do something fun with the guys and I.”

"Oh yeah? Like I don't already do that."

Yeah…you usually don't.

Sam rubbed his hands down his face, "look. Y/n/n," he began, “your friends all live in different states except for Emma, right?"

You nodded. It’s true, all of your close friends live in other states, far from from Ohio. You’re lucky to see the girls at least twice a year. Whether it's from a much needed vacation, or from your teams playing eachother on the field. You miss them very much, as it has been a while since you’ve seen them, but you try your best to chat with eachother almost everyday. However, my other best friend, Emma, lives here in Cincinnati. Emma is married to my brother. The two have been together since their college days at Ohio State. Emma recently found out that her and Sam are expecting Baby Hubbard in 2023, so the two of you haven't been able to go out on your usual weekend girls nights where you waste away in margaritaville. You do miss those a lot, but on the bright side, you live fairly close to her and Sam, so you and Emma see eachother often, which you are very thankful for.

"See,” he said with a smile, “you need to unwind and have a good time. Spending time at Zac’s with some of the guys and I at this party will be good for you."

You smiled slightly. Sam’s right, you could use a good party.

"Fine, I’ll go."

Sam smiled widely, "That’s great! You won't be disappointed, I promise. This will be one of the best parties you've ever been to, guarantee it. Zac throws the best Christmas parties."

You chuckled at his enthusiasm, "Good to know. Besides, I could use a good party right now. Margs, wine, tequila shots...OH!” your eyes lit up as you thought about that red dress you bought weeks ago that perfectly showed off your cleavage, “I can wear that red dress I’ve always wanted to wear...maybe one of your teammates will like it.” you teased, winking at your brother.

Sam got up from the recliner "Y/n, no. My teammates will not like it. Because if they do, I know there will be hopes for hookups." he said, emphasizing the "know", "and there will be absolutely no hooking up with my teammates at that party, okay?"

Sam has always been super protective over you, especially when it came to guys.

"Damn it, that was going to be the highlight of my night." You smirked. Sam just looked at you with a resting bitch face.

You let out a laugh of amusement and walked over to Sam, punching his rock hard arm, "I was only joking Sammy. I won't hook up with any of your teammates."

He looked down at you, "You promise?"

You rolled your eyes, sighing, "Yes, father."

Sam gave you an eye roll and ruffled your hair, "Shut up."

"Hey !" you screeched, moving your hands up to fix your hair. "I worked hard on that today."

Sam just chuckled, “Well, I’m gonna head out. Thanks for letting me stop by." he said, walking over to the door.

You followed him, “Oh yeah, it's no problem. I didn't really have a choice. You know, with you showing up unannounced and all.”

Sam rolled his eyes and pulled you into a quick hug.

"Whatever Y/n/n."

You let go of Sam as he spoke up. "Oh! Before I forget. Party is at six P.M. Saturday night. I’ll pick you up around five, so be ready before I get here."

You saluted, "Will do. And Sam?"

"Yes?" he asked, getting ready to leave.

"Make sure you don't show up unannounced Saturday. I’m getting to a really sexy scene in fifty shades, and I don't want you to-."

Sam’s face flushed a deep shade of red, "Okay,” he cleared his throat, “well I’’m gonna go now."

You laughed as he left your apartment, still flustered from your joke. “Bye Sam! See you saturday!" You yelled as he walked down the hall.

"Saturday, five o'clock, DONT be late!" he yelled back over his shoulder.

"Mmhm,” you muse, “I should be saying that to you!"

You could hear him just chuckle as he disappeared down the hall. Smiling to yourself, you closed your apartment door and locked the deadbolt. You walked back over to your couch and sat down. As you sat comfortably on the couch, you started thinking about the mess you just got yourself in.

Usually you opted out of the parties Zac or any member of the team threw, only because you didn't want to be the only woman in a room full of drunk, horny men—minus your brother and Coach Taylor of course. However, this party would be different. Players were able to bring a plus one, so hopefully that means you won't be the only girl at the party. Oh well, even if you are the only woman there, it's not like anything is going to happen? You’re hopeful all the guys will stay professional.

You decided not to worry about it and head to bed. As soon as your head hit the silk pink pillow, you were out like a light. All of your thoughts of what to expect Saturday night had escaped your mind, leaving you to sleep peacefully.

hey loves!

so this chapter was kinda bad lol

BUT it will get SO much better, i promise!! the first couple chapters of my stories are never that amazing tbh, only because i never how to properly start a book, but that's okay

the first few chapters of this story are going to follow my wattpad story almost exactly (except for the characters of course) but after those first few chapters, it’ll be switched up a little bit! the chapters will still be pretty much be the same though

i really hope this story doesn’t disappoint you guys…i wrote this two years ago so it needs a lot of tweaking lmao

more coming soon, i hope you all are doing well🤍

tags: @dandelionwrites8 @joeburreauxsworld @theflawedwriter @mrsshiesty @ann288 @ijustcrypretty @theoneandonlyfanz @wickedfun9 @venus-b @hummusxx @stainednailpolishremover @a-moment-captured @joyfulfrienddonkeybanana @alternativemadchen @erinmartin1987 @sirlewisworld @emherb10

[iron-shears]

Ignota's Top Surgery Fund Commissions!

Hello! I am Ignota. I am a 25-year-old non-binary artist, known mostly for my pixel animations, my comics, the Godot games/interactives I've made/am making for the SCP Wiki, and TikTok videos. I recently FINALLY got my insurance to cover top surgery(I live in California, but my insurance is out of Florida)

I just found out my insurance kinda lied about my doctor being in-network. My insurance agreed to cover the top surgery itself but does not cover the surgical center I need to get it done at. I've been quoted at $2140, not including additional medical workup, prescriptions, travel, and temporary living expenses.

I am trying to reach out to my insurance to see if it'll be covered, but I am about to age out of my current insurance and I am not in a position to afford new insurance. There is still a chance I can convince my insurance to cover it, but this is time-sensitive and I want to have the ABILITY to do it regardless. So, I am doing commissions now.

PRICING

Pixel animation $50-$400

$50(Art similar to the first image): Maximum of 12 frames. One character. Very limited movement. Canvas size under 135x135

$80(Art similar to the second image) Maximum of 24 frames at any framerate(Typically 4fps for 6 seconds or 8fps for 3 seconds), Simple Movement, 1-2 characters, maximum canvas size of 135x135. Price can be adjusted to accommodate more detail

$200(Art similar to the third image) a couple characters, a detailed environment, and a moving scene. Maximum canvas of 256x240. The scene can be converted to a simple one-room HTML5 format that can play in-browser.

$400+(Art similar to the fourth Image) A complex environment, multiple characters/moving parts, and the ability for a scrolling background.

Illustrations $50-$250

$50(Art similar to the first image): A simple close-up shot in any style.

$100(Art similar to the second image) A simple scene or full body with no background.

$250+(Art similar to the third and fourth images) A complex environment. Alternatively, a detailed comic page.

All features are negotiable and individual requests might change the price. If there's something from one tier you want but don't want all the other stuff, chances I may be able to work something out that will fit your needs. These descriptions are suggestions to make it a little easier, not solid outlines of what they need to look like. Feel free to bring other ideas to the table. I have worked on background illustrations and pixel animations for indie devs making games, Dungeons and Dragons character sheets, individual character pieces, and many other things in the past.

Contact me through my Email(IronShearsArt@gmail.com) or my Discord(ironshears)! Alternatively, I do have a Ko-Fi if you want to support my art.

Alex Thorley's Blind Date(The Dating Sim) by me under CC-BY-SA

Kuobach's Eyes(Orange Comic) by me under CC-BY-SA

Nacre Series by me under CC-BY-SA

The other pixel game in question is tentatively titled Brand New Colors and has not been completed yet, but you can find more of it on my blog. It will also be under CC-BY-SA

[theguyinthemathexamples]

been a long while since I've been back, so here's something before i disappear again ✌️

so here and now, i would like to introduce to you all,

The Levels Of Self Awareness in SAGAU

(aka, the ones I've seen so far)

Warning(s): Cursing(probs), possible misinformation?, not really accurate?, my opinions, my humour and experience, and more.

Not proofread, we die like Guizhong in the Archon War.

1. None. Just- Just none.

As the name suggests, none. Just your average game.

No, literally, there's nothing to worry about here.

No worrying about getting sucked in while you're sleeping or anything of the like.

Nothing strange happens (for now) while you're playing, nothing like that.

No extra items, no extra friendship exp, no extra anything.

It's best to savour it while you still can.

2. "Since when did i get that??"

This is when the "getting extra stuff" and/or "extra luck" happens.

Either your characters have been doing some offcam grinding themselves, or you've just been collecting stuff for a while now and haven't really looked into your bag other than to switch gadgets.

Normally, you probably just caught one crystalfly, and yea it shows that, but either 1. it shows you got multiple, or 2. you have a tiny bit/alot more crystalflies in ur bag the last time you checked.

Maybe that's what they want you to think, who knows.

You'd also probably get lucky with a pull or more - usually nothing more than ten or so.

Your characters would also glitch a lil. Things like the sudden cancelling of idle animations, not switching onto the character you want/need, accidental skill/burst activation, and more.

Though, those only happen on occasion. It's not common enough for you to notice and just interpret as misclicks, but also rare enough to set off a raised eyebrow or red flag inside of you.

Nothing happens out of the ordinary outside of your phone.

Apps like Youtube, Google, Chrome, Photos/Gallery, etc. aren't tampered with.

You're good ... As long as the characters don't break through the 636f6465, that is.

3. "Yo," - Kaeya, 2022

It's probably time to delete and redownload Genshin at this point.

You might see hints of you - i.e statues, your favorite color/thing appearing here and there, characters mentioning someone by "Their/His/Her Grace" or some other title, etc.

Your Gallery might be affected, a few photos of a character and/or a view from Genshin.

Getting extra stuff also (probably) gets more frequent

Either you get them through mail or it just gets sent to your storage/bag directly.

The character glitches also happen a lil more frequently.

Oh, you wanted [thing] but didn't have the chance to do so? Don't worry, we'll get it for you, Your Grace. Just occupy yourself with some other miscellaneous tasks and you'll have it in no time.

Your luck also increases a lil more.

The character you've wanted for some time now but didn't get the chance to get them before? Yep, you guessed it, you lost your 50/50 atleast 4 times now.

Lmao I'm kidding

But seriously, if it's what you've been wanting for some time now, you're at least bound for one or a few 50/50 losses (unless you're guaranteed)

It's also why you (probably) get that one unwanted 5* because you wanted to try your luck/build pity.

Jealousy runs in the family, as they say. It's almost unavoidable, really. (looks at my lost 50/50s)

Hey, don't blame them! They were just... excited that you wanted to even pull on their banner, y'know?

Level them up and ascend them to level 20. I dare you.

I mean hey, atleast you'll get a free acquiant fate after you ascended them.

It only takes 7 Hero's Wit, 1 Wanderer's Advice, and their ascension mats.

It's basically a win/win, is it not?

You get a free fate, they get strength. It's fair for everyone.

You don't even have to give them a new weapon or any artifacts! Just leveling them up will do the job, will it not?

4. Caught You Slippin'

Oh, and if the Barbatos statue at Mondstadt actually changed into you, it's best if you just, yk, just look at the first • on this #.

It's too late to turn back now.

This is the "isekai" part of SAGAU, aka, where most fics take place.

This might be a major jump from the previous #, but hey, i started making this at 5AM.

But besides that, what AU you end up is all based on chance.

I'm sure you get the gist of this #. If you don't, i don't blame you.

Remember that one machine in Albedo's cave? That big rectangle/oval one? You don't? Good cuz neither do i.

Either you got sucked in and woke up somewhere in Teyvat, or you woke up to a bunch of hot people staring at you.

This part of the post is very sensitive to change, so I can't really say much here.

Just know that if you manage to find yourself at this point, you probably don't have a chance in getting back to your normal life without getting atleast a tiny bit of trauma.

C/N: Yea, it's me Your broy, chips ahoy, Cake.

Didn't expect me to post, did you? Well, you probably did, but hey, i like imagining nonexistent things

Anyways, have this while u still can cause i'm going back to nap again

Oh wait right i just remembered i haven't done my commissions

Nevertheless, thank you for all of your patience.

Peace — ★

[getvalentined]

@sephirthoughts: my tumblr app isn’t showing your ask box for some reason so i’m asking here 😂 8, 12, 35, 47 for vincent please? 🖤🖤🖤🖤

(I turned it off and back on again so let me know if you see it now! I just turned it back on today after having it off for a couple weeks, so I'm not shocked it's a bit buggy.)

[For the Random Character Asks game.]

8. Unpopular opinion about them?

I mean my most unpopular opinion about Vincent is definitely that he's the single most compelling character in the entirety of Final Fantasy VII, but with regard to like...headcanons and character interpretations, it's probably that I don't think most of his monsters are actually entirely separate entities with their own unique personalities—I don't even interpret Chaos as sapient the majority of the time.

Aside from Hellmasker, who I've discussed before, any personality seen in Vincent's monsters is literally just a facet of Vincent's own with various traits and aspects stripped away based on the trauma through which they manifested. Galian and Gigas are more like partially-dissociated identities, not complete entities unto themselves, while Chaos has the capacity for periodic sapience only after decades of filtering itself through Vincent's consciousness via the protomateria. At its core Chaos is really just an animal, meaning any personality it might seem to express is the result of it mimicking Vincent over time, which is why it's just vicious and out of control when it manifests in Dirge without the protomateria. (I think my take on the protomateria is probably also wildly unpopular, but I actually can't remember seeing anyone else ever talking about how they believe it functions, so I'm not sure you can call something "unpopular" when there is no "popular" option.)

Fandom really likes portraying all of them as completely separate fully-fledged characters, and it's easier for my Vincent to refer to them similarly in most contexts, but he knows that's not really how it works—he just chooses not to explain it.

12. Crack headcanon?

Vincent is the king of Junon. No, I'm not kidding, this is consistent in basically all my renditions of Vincent. Even if it doesn't come up, if I'm portraying Vincent in basically any version of the canon universe wherein the Wutai War took place, Vincent is the king of Junon.

My version of Valentine family is founding nobility in Junon, which is a crowned republic, with the royal family basically operating as a ceremonial figurehead. The royal family has no actual ruling power at this point, but people like having them around—particularly the other noble families, who use their existence as a way of maintaining the right to a share of taxes and the like—and between the war with Shinra and everything else, nothing has ever really been done to change that.

I was going to try to explain the genealogy behind this, and then I remembered that I have a chart—and I'm gonna put it and the rest of this post under a cut, because this is stupidly long at this point and I'm two questions deep.

Vincent's extended family tree:

Okay so, Vincent's second cousin was Queen Adelaide, who took the throne fairly young due to her mother passing away; the one who "married in" doesn't keep rulership after the death of their spouse except in cases where their heir is still a minor, and then rulership passes to the heir upon adulthood. If there is no heir, the title gets kicked to the next royal-by-blood on the line. Adelaide died in the late '90s, unmarried and without an heir—but there were no other royals left. She was an only child, and all the others were dead.

...Well, probably. See, Vincent had been listed as missing in action since 1978. Because of the clandestine nature of the department, Turks that disappear aren't listed as dead until there's either a body recovered, or they've been missing for 50 years, whichever comes first. Legally, Vincent was still alive, and the Junon Society of Royals (aka the JSR, the group responsible for keeping Junonese nobility in their wealth) grabbed onto that to perform what's called a "paperwork ascension." These used to be pretty common back when heirs would get sent away to war or for school or whatever, gone for years at a time whether their ruling parent died or not.

The plan was for the JSR to plug Vincent in temporarily and proceed to dig back through the entire genealogical record to try to find some distant heir who was actually present and definitely alive to put on the throne instead (there is also a mechanism for this in Junonese tradition) but there was the whole war with Wutai, and then a bunch of terrorist nonsense happened, then everything went sideways with Meteor, then Geostigma, then Omega—and then King Vincent Vickalor Valentine VII, a man who should have been about 60 years old and whom everyone assumed was actually dead as hell everywhere except on paper, reappeared working with the WRO in 2010.

Vincent had absolutely no idea any of this had happened. He had no fucking clue that he'd legally been king of Junon for over a decade. Upon finding out via a very angry letter from the JSR asking him to pass the crown to another noble family and please do not come be King Cryptid the public cannot take it, he instead routed as much of the royal family's share of taxes as he was legally allowed to the WRO as a recurring charitable donation, including that same percentage from the escrow account into which that share had been fed since Queen Adelaide's death, and divvied up as much of the rest as was permissible to various other charitable causes. A good chunk of it is stuck just sitting there, which is annoying because he doesn't want it, but if he dissolves the monarchy then the WRO stops getting that funding so he can't do that just yet. He will eventually, since he can't die and thus the JSR screwed themselves over by putting him "in charge," but it will be a while before he does it.

This means that the king of Junon owns three pairs of pants, lives in an apartment that contains only a mattress and a radio, and hasn't gotten his hair cut in over 30 years. The JSR do not broadcast his existence and he doesn't meddle too much with their bougie nonsense, so it's not general public knowledge.

Reeve knew the entire time and just never said anything.

35. Their idea of a perfect day?

This one is actually really hard, because my Vincent doesn't really...think that way? He doesn't really make his own plans or have his own aspirations, because if he thinks about his future he won't stop and that's pretty crippling for him what with the immortality, so the idea of a perfect day hasn't crossed his mind since he was sent to Nibelheim.

If we're going outside his thoughts on the concept and into what would be a perfect day for him within the feasible bounds of his general existence immediately postcanon, it would vary depending on which headcanon universe I'm working with. Going with the one I've been playing in the most recently, it would start with cloudy weather in Junon and a short workday at WRO HQ—busy enough to keep occupied but slow enough that he can afford to head out early—followed by his mostly-monthly visit to Edge to help Tifa deep clean the bar and kitchen at Seventh Heaven. After that, he and Tifa and Cloud (and Barret, who is stated to live in Edge as well post-AC) would hang out in the closed bar and catch up, maybe have a few drinks; once it's dark enough, Vincent and Cloud would split off, finding somewhere quiet and secluded to recover from all that peopling. Maybe up on the roof, maybe a little ways out of town, and they'd stay out there until Cloud got sleepy, at which point Vincent would get him home. Maybe Vincent would stay the night, but realistically it'd only ever be to sleep. Someday maybe it would be more than that, but Vincent does his best not to think about the future.

A perfect day is being useful, getting to pretend he's still a normal person, and spending time with the people who won't call him out on the lie.

47. Their dream job?

Vincent's dream job is being a Turk. Period. It doesn't matter what point in time we're talking about, that's the answer.

Postcanon, this isn't because he wants anything to do with Shinra (the Turks don't actually work with Shinra anymore by then in my headcanon, the department was absorbed into the WRO just after AC), but because it was the only thing Vincent ever really wanted to do before. He and Tseng would butt heads too much for him to rejoin the department, but that doesn't even matter—Vincent is extremely mako-enhanced, among other things, and Turks aren't allowed to have any biological augmentations. His abilities may have been forced on him, but they're still very much enhancements, so Vincent's physiology bars him from the only job he ever wanted.

Vincent is no longer a Turk, and never will be again—no matter how much he might dream about it.

[thefisherqueen]

I came across the surname Baskerville in a text completely unrelated to Sherlock Holmes (in a book about wild camping), and it's gives some really interesting insight into the history and present state of UK inherited titles and landownership so thought I would share!

'William the Conqueror invaded England in 1066 and then made himself king. It was like any other invasion of conquest, in any other time or realm. King Harold the Second was dead. Long live the King. Life goes on. But there was a difference. New laws saw all of the land seized by the Crown - a relatively unique development in the history of conquest. Sasxon barons were replaced by the Norman lords and their allies. The Domesday Book - the most definitive land registery document every devised - was produced on William's orders in 1086 to identify the new owners and their land holding and what they might owe, in tax, favour and loyalty, to the king: the sovereign Landlord.

Landownership had worked broadly in the same way ever since our ancestors abandoned the nomadic life, and took up the shovel and plough about 10.000 BC. What the Normans changed in Britain was the communal right of access over the land. That system of non-communal access is still very much in force today amoung the modern-day descendents of the Normans. Which is why William's 1086 census - the Domesday Book (and its modern version, the Land Registry) - remains so important. It serves as a legal document that established ownership by the legal holder of the title.

My research into where I could roll out a sleeping bag today meant looking at landownership. I discovered that very little had changed sinde the Norman invasion. Just 0,6 per cent of the population still owns 50 per cent of the British land, and most of this elite are the descendants of the 11th-century Norman aristocracy.

A report - "Who owns Britain?' - by Country Life magazine in 2010 was said to be the most detailed survey of its kind in over 100 years. The research claimed that just 1200 aristocrats and their families own 20 million of Britain's 60 million acres of land. The top private landowner in Europe was the Duke of Buccleuch and Queensberry, who owned 240.000 acres in England and Scotland. Research by the London School of Economics in 2013 claimed that the Normans who conquered England - with surnames Baskerville, Darcy, Mandeville and Montgomery - still dominate the student rolls for Oxford and Cambridge universities, still make up a large proportion of the elite that holds the prime positions in professions such as medicine, law and politics. They also control a good number of the political agencies, public bodies and charitable organisations that oversee rules regulating land management and access.

But 1066 was about more than Saxon lords losing their holdings. It was how it affected the peasants that mattered most. The common rights over common lands like Sherwood Forest and the Kentish Weald were gone. Those rights included the right to roam over woodlands, marshes, moors and coasts of many common areas; to graze animals, collect wood for fuel, tools and buildings, to eat fruits, to collect water from rivers and streams, to catch fish and generally to do all the things that made it possible to live off the land."

From: Wild camping. Exploring and sleeping in the wilds of the UK and Ireland, by Stephen Neale, page 29

I've been to the UK several times for hiking trips, and I remember being puzzled by the system of access to nature at first. It is quite bewildering to be just walking on a perfecty good path, only to suddenly find it fenced off, with aggressive signs warning walkers to KEEP OUT!!! Why are hikers treated with so much suspicion even in areas famous for its good hiking? And what do you mean by Right of Way? How come there's major roads and motor cross terrains within a national park? (turns out they are largely privately owned). Myself, I've never been shy to climb the occasional wall or fence, and pitch my tent somewhere even on private lands. I consider it my own gentle way of resisting the very idea of private property, which creates so much inequality. I've never yet faced any trouble for it, by the way. Turns out land owners have little desire to actually hike on their lands, especially in rain or cold or darkness, and the people who work for them are usually not payed enough to care about a lonely hiker who is causing no disturbance or damage whatsoever xD

[starlightshadowsworld]

Hajime always makes an effort to refer to Makoto with his actual talent.

He wasn't sure if anyone else has noticed, but everyone refers to Makoto as the ultimate hope.

It's not out of jealously as you might think, but concern.

Hajime memories aren't the best, but he does know what happened to him.

How Hopes Peak tried to erase him to create Izuru.

Their ultimate hope.

And maybe it's just paranoia but he's afraid the future foundation are trying to do the same to Makoto.

Trying to erase who he is to create their ultimate hope, just not as drastic as what happened to Hajime.

Because when people think of the Ultimate Luckster, they tend to think of Nagito.

Nagito as a Remnant was terrifying, they all were but Nagito had always been the most vocal about his opinions and thoughts.

Especially in terms of hope and despair.

It doesn't take a genius to realise that people may associate two people with the same talent together.

Especially considering Makoto and Nagito were very alike. They were both passionate about hope, they both dressed similarly, even their voices sounded similar.

To the point Hajime wondered if they were somehow related.

In any case, it made sense for the future foundation to try and differentiate Makoto from being seen like Nagito.

Especially given Makoto's luck. Nagito's luck was easy to understand, it was very cause and effect and worked as a 50/50 chance.

It was strong but it was predictable, everything Makoto's was not.

Makoto's luck changed wildly, it was good for a while than had for a second than bad for a while than suddenly good.

It was something even Junko, with all her genius and being the ultimate analyst herself couldn't account for.

It made him, to the future foundations eyes very dangerous.

The irony they'd than give him the title of someone even more dangerous.

Whenever Makoto's luck was bought up it was usually as an insult.

The "oh for someone so lucky you're sure having a bad time" sort of thing.

Hajime hated seeing the small self depricating smile he'd give in return. Speaking of similarities with Nagito.

His change off attire was the future foundation uniform but Makoto still held onto his old style of clothing, wearing it whenever he was out of office.

Something his superiors frowned upon but Hajime and his friends encouraged.

He could tell they'd figured it out and were not happy about it.

Especially Nagito.

For all his complaints about his talent, it was still his talent. He still loved his talent, more so now he'd met Makoto.

To have part of yourself looked down upon and people trying to erase it, didn't sit right with him. It didn't sit right with any of them.

Hajime was just wondering when the best to approach Makoto about it.

He was sure Makoto had noticed, he always sent Hajime a thankful smile when the other picked up on when his good luck was coming out.

And the happiness he'd feel when Nagito called him his fellow luckster.

Makoto deserved the title of Ultimate Hope, but not at the cost of who he is.

Especially for others to use him for their own gain.

Hajime had already been there, done that and he wasn't about to lose someone else the way the world tried to erase him.

Especially not Makoto, not after everything he's done.

[moriartyluver]

FALSE LOVERS CHAPTER XXIV

"THIS IS THE REAL JACK....JACK THE RIPPER."

"The real Jack..!" James exclaimed in surprise. "You mean to say that the killer wreaking havoc in Whitechapel is an imposter?!"

"Exactly," Moran affirmed. "The moniker was originally used by the old man for more than 50 years, ain't that right instructor?"

Jack laughed "as if I would know! I never cared for silly titles like that!"

"Don't act dumb, old man! You're old enough to know these things!" The colonel furrowed his eyebrows as he yelled in annoyance, only to be shushed by (name) who put a finger to her lips, signalling to stay quiet so they wouldn't wake William "It the reason why William called you, no? Because of this psycho killer that's using your moniker himself." Moran said in a slightly quieter voice.

The blankets on William rustled "That's not quite the reason, Moran." He said, waking up from his nap.

"You awake already, William? Shouldn't you be getting more rest?" Moran suggested with a hand on his hip

"He would've rested a lot better if you're loud voice didn't wake him up," (name) glared, taking William's blanket and folding it aside as he smiled gratefully at her. She sat down beside him, a hand on his arm as William continued.

"How could I continue sleeping when the instructor is here? It would be disrespectful to him and all of you." He said with a usual polite smile. Someone so used to experiencing rudeness like (name) — who had now grown to expect such behaviour for either her gender or ethnicity or both — had found it almost endearing.

Now that she had drawn her attention to it, William was usually incredibly polite, even when it was not deserved. He always seemed to be so respectful to everyone and that gentle smile had radiated a comforting beauty she couldn't bare to tear her gaze away from.

The instructor kneeled as (name) was snapped out of her trance-like state, gazing (arguably) fondly at the blond. "It has been too long, Master William." He said "It would be a tremendous honour for this old fossil to be of use to you once more."

William gave him a flustered smile which (name) mentally cursed him for. "No need for such formality, Instructor...just call me 'Little Will' as you always do. I know it was you who pinched my cheek whilst I slept."

'If he knew that the old man did that, did he also?—'

The instructor laughed heartily. "Gahaha! Nothing ever escapes you does it? Never changed, little will!"

(Name) had occasionally thought of how William may have been like before they had met, although not often. In the eight years the couple had known each other, and quite closely one might add, he had changed a bit.

(Name) had noted he had grown much taller since their youth. He was above average height as a 16 year old but his baby like face always made her laugh a bit when she was a teenager. Now it had slimmed down although he did look rather adorable but the rest of the time, he would wear that teasing smile that (name) couldn't help but feel flustered by. His physique had likely remained the same, although slightly more muscular with all the combat involved in being the Lord of crimes. From what she had seen, he was toned despite still being on the slimmer side..his voice had also changed, it was slightly deeper and very attractive now...

Without warning, (name) had smacked herself in the face in an attempt to regain her composure. She internally screamed at herself to stop thinking such thoughts about a mere man. She had also internally screamed at her past self for making the foolish decision to attempt to prove the infertility rumours wrong. She should've known nothing good would come out of that.

"Are you alright, (name)?" Josephine asked. (Name) hadn't told her of the recent encounter so she was bound to be confused. Honestly most things (name) did confused her.

(Name) chuckled nervously, noticing the blank looks she was receiving from the other members. "There was a fly." Although she clearly seemed unsure about that. "Please forgive me for my disruption..." she muttered

"What's the old man doin' here anyways?" Moran said shortly after

"Ah yes," William said, his expression turning serious "As you may know, not only has the killer in Whitechapel been using the instructor's only moniker as his own, he also has been intentionally announcing it to the newspapers. Just as I was about to contact instructor Jack regarding this information, he took the initiative and contacted me through a telegram." The instructor stood up with a small smirk "Instructor Jack wished to lend us his help in disposing the imposter killer who is using his name. This, he contacted me. The crime consultant."

William turned to his subordinates, continuing his explanation "It was for that reason that I requested you to retrieve his knives from the bank. I trust there was no problem in the retrieval."

"No problem at all. Right, Bond?" Moran said, looking knowingly at the shorter man.

"Yes, not at all."

Moran leaned against the armrest of the sofa, his arms folded "but why use an old moniker of some fossil who the world had forgotten? Who is this killer trying to fool..?" His eyes widened in realisation, opening his mouth to explain his theory. "Aha! The paper says he only targets courtesans, right? So maybe he's getting rid of all the courtesans so there wouldn't be any left for the real—"

Moran was cut off by a harsh smack from the Instructor, like a parent disciplining a child. (Name) observed with a blank stare. "Dammit Moran! Why do you always have to silly the conversation with your moronic ideas?!" He scolded him like a little boy.

"Ow!! Stop hitting me!!" The colonel whined.

"I like this instructor already," Josephine whispered to herself

"What makes you want to eliminate the killer, Instructor?" Fred chimed in, turning the old man's attention away from Moran.

"I admit, I hold no attachment to that abomination of a title.  But I can't let the world remember me as a psychopath who murdered helpless women on the street for no reason either. Before I kill him, however, I need proper preparation. That is why I need little Will's help." The instructor explained

"I see. That is a good reason." Louis  commented

"That's right my boys! It is only common sense to clean up after yourself!" The instructor said with a chuckle before Moran opened his mouth to spurt out some nonsense again.

"Says one of London's worse womanisers.."

"Woman...?" The instructor muttered, ignoring the insult. "Ah yes! Speaking of women! I heard there are three women working for you now, little will..."

"Don't bother with (name). She's off limits old man. Can't be going for William's wife." Moran said as (name) frowned. "And the brat's much too young for you." He finished, gesturing to Josephine who her rolled her eyes

The instructor scanned the noblewoman, then turned to William beside her with a smile, like a proud parent to their child. "My, you've grown so much, haven't you? So this must be the lucky lady."

"(Name) (last name), a pleasure to meet you. I've heard great things about you, Instructor." (Name) flashed a smile and held out a hand to shake. Despite being so old, Jack gave a firm handshake, almost enthusiastic.

She had heard William singing the instructors praises any time (name) would (subtly) compliment her husband's combat skills. (Name) herself had been taught personally by both parents, mainly her father, so she hadn't had an 'official' instructor as a child. Her parents had insisted on it at one point but from what the young girl had seen, her fathers combat skills were far more superior than any teacher she could learn from.

"Oh I've heard just as much about you, lady (name). Little Will seems to adore—" the old man was cut off by William clearing his throat. His cheeks were dusted with blush. The instructor smirked but changed the subject promptly "Moving on, I also heard there were two others, namely a Miss Irene Adler..it's a shame, I don't see her, I was planning on having some fun with her.."

Bond raised his hand, drawing the instructors attention to him. "Ah, that would be me," he said "The woman, Irene Adler, is dead. I am now James Bond. Pleased to make your acquaintance, sir."

Jack stroked his bearded chin "A pretty boy disguise..eh..that explains it. Well.." he muttered before smiling brightly "I imagine you would need help to learn how a real man behaves! What day I help you with your study tonight in the bedroom, Mr Bond?"

"He's as shameless as ever.." Moran whispered to nobody in particular.

Bond turned to Louis to whisper "he mentioned study, what kind of study?" He asked curiously

"You wouldn't know it Mr Bond, being a new member. After the Moriarty Mansion was burnt down, is brothers stayed at Lord Rockwell's mansion for a time," Louis said, recalling the familiar memories "That's how we met Instructor Jack who was working for their family at the time.."

Louis had explained to Bond their first meeting with the instructor during the trio's stay with the Earl of Rockwell. After William had explained their wish to learn how to 'defend themselves', the instructor, after a short examination ending in a young William holding a rifle, had agreed to train the brothers. It had brought (name) some minor satisfaction to know that although her husband was skilled, she probably would have been able to win against him in a sparring match throughout the entire time they had known each other despite on sparring once.

"Including Mr Moran, we're only able to do what we can today thanks to Instructor Jack." Louis explained once he had concluded his anecdote.

Bond nodded with an admiring smile "I see..so Mr Moran's  famous ways around women was inherited from instructor Jack as well.."

The instructor laughed once more "Ghaha! It was I who turned that muscle-brain into a true lethal weapon of war!" He exclaimed proudly. "Moran! Be sure to treat Mr Bond with care, got it?!"

(Name) heard Moran audibly groan as he rolled his eyes like a teenager being scolded. "Fine, fine..we always lose track of what we're talking about with this waffling old man, I swear. Can we get back on topic?" Moran asked rhetorically. "I still don't understand how this killer knew of the title 'Jack the ripper', and why did he choose it?"

"The answer is obvious Moran," the instructor said, stroking his white beard between his thumb and index finger.

Moran's dark eyes widened "What? You don't mean..?!"

Jack spoke, wisely and sophisticatedly. "There are so many possibilities I don't know where to start."

(Name) let out a small chuckle while Moran groaned in annoyance.

"That just means you have no idea either, ya bloody coot!!" He yelled insultingly

William, from beside (Name), interjected between the two. "We will only know of the killer's true intent and his relationship with the instructor after we find him." He said calmly " We must eliminate this fake 'Jack The Ripper as soon as possible...and clear Instructor Jack's name. What's more..." William trailed off, a noticeable dramatic habit the blond had as his wife observed. She watched his eyes narrow, an alluring feature despite the terror his gaze could invoke in the eyes of wrongdoers. "As instructor Jack has said, we must find those...who are taking advantage of this chaos to prey on the weak and bring them to justice."

During the 19th century, the east end was where the underclass of London gathered, which consisted mostly of vagrants, courtesan and urchins. Even within the East End, the Whitechapel district housed around eight thousand citizens without specific addresses. The district was often ridiculed as a den of thieves and criminals, so much so that it was said that if there were an unsolved crime in London, one could easily find the culprit amongst the slums of Whitechapel.

The victims of the series of murders, the courtesans, though fearing for their life, had no choice but to continue to sell their bodies in order to survive - much like Josephine Evans did prior to being taken into Ashfordshire's so-called 'care'

"Couldn't I have dressed up as an old woman or something? This dress is unbelievably uncomfortable. The corset is much too tight and if I were seen wearing such fuss and frills, I think I'd be a laughing stock in high society," (name) complained as they walked through the dark alleyways of Whitechapel. She had already gotten a few disturbing looks from the occasional nobleman who was only in the area for the most inappropriate of reasons "It's much too revealing for me.."

"You don't have the right face for an old woman though," Josephine commented. (Name) never thought she'd ever feel jealous seeing someone wearing rags and tattered clothing, but it seems she was wrong about everything with the Lord of crime.

"I understand I'm meant to take that as a compliment, but I'd much rather wear anything than this." (Name) said, gesturing to her pink dress. She caught William looking at her briefly as he turned his head from in front of her, then furrowed her eyebrows, pointing a finger at her husband in an accusatory manner "What are you looking at?"

William looked somewhat surprised, —he had simply been admiring her appearance as usual— then smiled innocently as he looked up and down her figure, before looking into her enticing (eye color) eyes, bending his neck down slightly as they made eye contact.

"You look pretty in pink."

(Name) could feel herself heating up instantly, stuttering as her brain attempted to formulate a witty response while Josephine snickered from beside her, the rest of the group equally amused by the situation. She clenched her jaw with an irritated huff and continued walking, adjusting her bodice as they all exited the alleyway.

"Whitechapel hasn't changed much from when we were here last.." William said, pulling the edge of his hat to shield his scarlet eyes. He turned behind him. "Follow me, to the old garden."

(Name) had rarely been to Whitechapel. In fact, she could probably count on one hand how many times she had walked these streets. As they would wander around the slums, she'd let her eyes wander too. Women stood at street corners, dressed much like herself; children chased each other around, happy despite being so malnourished and wizened and wrinkled men would throw judging and cautious glances. Had they been there after sunset, it would be very likely to find well dressed noblemen sneaking around, carrying money for any women that would catch their fancy.

"Huh..so this is the slum where Will and Louis grew up in?" Bond commented curiously. "It's different from what I was told."

Moran's dark eyes landed on Bond beside him. "Yeah...this is where they lived before the Moriarty family adopted them." He said.

Lady (name) had watched William as he walked a few steps ahead. Many wouldn't notice, but there was a very slight change in his demeanor that only she could probably detect. Of course, as his "partner" of some sort, a "colleague in crime" if you will, (Name) knew that William was sensitive in regards to his unfortunate childhood. She had partially discovered that the boy she knew was not quite who he said he was. (which made (name) particularly embarrassed after making many rude remarks, generalising him as a stuck up noble despite being of a well breed status herself, she could be quite hypocritical and ignorant to her own behavior sometimes.) But she hadn't known of his past beyond the mere legal documents she uncovered along with her deductive abilities, until a couple of years ago when William had, after an uncharacteristically sentimental encounter in which (name) caught her newly wed husband drinking for the first and last time considering he was never the time to ruin his organs by drinking excessively, that was more his elder brother's job.

That, however, is a story for another time.

"I hope their old home's still there. I'd like to visit it." Bond said in a hushed tone.

Moran shook his head. "Not possible.. William said that place is long gone now."

"That's a shame-"

Before Bond could say another word, though, gun shots filled the air, disrupting the bustling chatter of the streets.

"A gun shot...!" Moran exclaimed

"No shit, Moran." Josephine said, gesturing in the direction of the sound. "It's close!"

Within seconds, the group had rushed to a crowd of people, stood where the gun shot sound had come from. Police officers from Scotland yard followed suit, watching as the underclass men of Whitechapel held their rifles in the air, aiming threateningly at the cops.

"Take a walk, ye bleedin' Yard dogs!" One man yelled atop several crates "We don't need yo' kind 'ere muddlin' up the place!!"

Multiple men stood behind him, each holding some sort of weapon themselves. There were crates stacked like a wall, as if guarding Whitechapel from the 'enemy', their enemy being the policemen from Scotland yard. The men in navy blue uniforms whispered amongst themselves, planning on a method to regain control of the area and its citizens, much to the anger of the men by the crates.

"That's right! Whitechapel has its own militia!" They continued to yell "We can take care of this murderer on our own! We don't need you Scotland Yard here!!"

"The air seems tense.." The Instructor muttered amongst the commotion.

"Why are the Whitechapel blokes chasing the coppers away? Don't they want to catch Jack the Ripper?" Moran questioned

The officers eventually spoke up in retaliation. "We will not leave until we have caught this foul murderer! It is our duty to return peace to Whitechapel as is yours!"

"Duty?! Dont' make me laugh!! Where was your sense of duty when we needed help before?!" The vigilantes argued back "You Yard Dogs never even considered us citizens! We're nothing to you!"

'Ah,' (Name) thought as she observed the riot beside William who narrowed his eyes. 'The neglect of the police to 'unimportant' cases has caused some sort of social unrest..no doubt the riots will only continue, even if Jack the Ripper is caught..'

"That's not true!!" One officer stuttered

The vigilante from earlier scoffed. "Piss off! We can handle Jack on our own!"

"Calm yourself man," a stoic voice came from behind.

"Mr Woods! It's the Scotland Yard they're refusing to leave!"

A blond haired man with a short beard and wide stature, quite intimidating, emerged from amongst the crowd of vigilantes. He had almost commanded silence over his comrades, so (Name) assumed he was the ringleader.

"You tell 'em off Mr Woods!"

"The Yard only wants to catch this murderer, same as us." Woods said "I see no problem in letting them help us."

While Mr. Woods had gave a short speech to the constables, asking for support from the Yard to catch the killer aswell as allowing the vigilantes to use weapons to fend off Jack The Ripper, the group had snuck off in an attempt to pursue their own investigation.

"The Whitechapel folks sure seem up in arms about this.." Moran commented, peering behind a wall to watch a group of officers. "You can't blame 'em... This case has been a much talked about topic across the city, if not the whole country."

"And the presence of the Yard is certainly not making things better..." (Name) added. "If only they could realise that they're common enemy is this fake 'Jack the Ripper'.."

"This theatric murderer is playing with fire..he has turned Whitechapel into a battlefield." William said with a nod. It was as if the two could communicate telepathically sometimes, as they had both been simultaneously formulating a plan to expose this killer and his intentions. "One wrong move, and the power will shift in an unpredictable way.."

"We should split up here then, shouldn't we?" Josephine suggested. There was an even number of people and although she had wished to follow Fred and Louis to Scotland Yard, she would be glad to have been in a pair with (Name).

William nodded, a smile flickering over his features. "Indeed.. In that case, (Name) and I shall investigate the crime scene."

His wife narrowed her eyes, forming a deathly glare, promptly followed by a frown from Josephine and a chuckle from Bond.

"And why must I go with you?" (Name) asked in annoyance "This is a serious matter, William, I hope you're aware."

"I never said it wasn't, (Name)." William said, almost serious enough for it to be convincing that there was indeed no ulterior motive. (Name) rolled her eyes. "Surely you're not afraid, my love? I'll be there for you to cling to, rest assured, darling."

"You are truly aggravating," She insulted, the tips of her ears slightly warm, with anger of course... nothing else, before hearing a whistle come from behind.

"Geez, you two," Moran teased obnoxiously as he leaned against a brick wall beside Bond, annoying (name) further as she grew more flustered by the second "Get a room, would you? I'd hate to say this knowing how...physical...you two can be, but we are on a mission, y'know?"

"-Enough..!" Scoffing, (name) negotiated. "Fine, William, Josephine and I shall go investigate whilst the three of you-" She gestured to Jack, Bond and Moran. "Will go survey the courtesans, preferably without flirting with any of them." She said, eyeing the noirette

Moran looked quite offended at that last statement. "What ya lookin' at me for? The old geezer's right there!"

"Oh please." The instructor rolled his eyes at the younger man "I have the ability to control myself around women, no matter how tempting, unlike you, Moran."

Noticing a few concerned looks from constables around the corner, Josephine had grown tired of the petty arguments from both William and (Name) as well as Moran and the Instructor.  If the old man was to stay as Albert had mentioned briefly before leaving for work that morning, this could become a regular occurrence. As for (Name) and William, she internally prayed one of them would be brave enough to confess to the other sooner or later.

"Alright ladies, that's enough bickering." The brunette said to the four, taking (Name)'s hands in hers before she could strangle William. "The more we chat, the more this knock-off Jack the Ripper schemes to kill, alright? Might aswell get going."

Bonus

"...so Moran got his womaniser tendencies from the Instructor then?" Bond commented

(Name) smirked  "Daresay he's surpassed the master from what I've heard...how many women have you been with again, Moran? Was it 20...no that's much too low...56 I think..?" She trailed off in faux ignorance.

Moran rolled his eyes "You're much worse than me anyways, I swear you've been with twice as many men as I have been with women." He said sharply.

(Name) glared "It's not that high.."

"28 is a high number, especially for a woman," Moran pointed out

"Alright, but a lot those people weren't even all the way and most of them were solely for the sake of missions or blackmail..at least half were from when I was a teenager, so it isn't that strange," (name) defended

"also it's 29 now."  She added as William choked on his tea.

A/N: I literally didn't know how to end this chapter but first update in like over a month!! I've already said this but college has been screwing me over and I've been quite sick recently but I pulled through so it's fine. Honestly been dreading reaching chapter 25 because shit just goes downhill from then hehehe. The angst levels are gonna go much higher soon >:)

[tideswept]

Hello!!! For the game, perhaps time travel? 👀

never have I ever

Technically no? I've had a few plots in mind, but nothing made it to the writing stage as the scope and potential of it has intimidated me. I feel like I need to have an intimate understanding of the characters and their relationship to successfully pull it off.

As well as a dang good reason for it. It feels like, I dunno, a forbidden indulgence to go into it without a Plan™.

Here's how I'd do it, using the Kingsman idea that probably got the closest to almost making it on paper.

A few months after the end of Kingsman, Eggsy is sent into the past. But far into the past--as in, when Chester was a young agent, perhaps even a trainee.

(I've given some consideration to Chester having held the title of Lancelot originally, which would have, I think, added some delicious flavoring to his rejection of a pleb coming along to possibly take up his title, but I really feel like they would have mentioned that little detail at some point if that were true. Same goes for him having been Galahad. Thus, I arbitrarily decided that it was Lamorak. Though Percival is a close second.)

So Eggsy finds himself weirded out by how much he and Chester have in common as he infiltrates Kingsman. We know from the original Kingsman script and a very clever accent slip-up during his death scene that Chester's background was likely more similar to Eggsy's than Chester ever wanted to admit.

Eggsy's goal may be to save Harry, but he doesn't want to fuck up time too badly, so he has no choice but to play along for a while, only, whoops, now he's being shoved X amount of years into the future (so from the 50s to the 60s) and Chester still remembers him, so he knows Something Is Up about Eggsy, but he cares about Eggsy (friendship? or more? who knows) so he doesn't turn him in. Cue another time jump to the 70s. Eggsy is still trying to evaluate what the best way to handle this is. Kill Chester? Tell him what's going to happen? Ask him to make sure a Harry Hart never gets chosen as a trainee?

But before he can decide, it's the 80s, and despite his best efforts to avoid them meeting, Harry is there. And Eggsy falls head over heels for this Harry, who is so different from the man he knows, but it's still Harry, after all.

Chester, now having left Lamorak behind and being made Arthur, notices and puts two and two together that this is the reason why Eggsy has been coming in and out of his life now for almost forty years. It was never about him, or Kingsman, or anything else that had occurred to him.

... but it still takes until the next time skip (hello 90s) for Eggsy to pull the trigger, so to speak. He has to make a decision now. What to change, and how, in a way that doesn't completely mess up the future? He might have trusted Chester a little the first couple of jumps, but now this is the Chester who was a callous fuck about Lee dying.

Meanwhile, Harry is hurt and furious and confused that Eggsy vanished and Arthur (nee whatever his original title was) seemed to know exactly what happened and only infuriatingly told him to be patient and wait.

(And that's another oof for Eggsy -- has he already changed things too much? Harry in the future will recognize him, won't he?)

Eggsy makes the difficult choice to kill Arthur, but Chester talks him down from that, and asks him the real story of what's been happening, pointing out that he's kept Eggsy's secret for fifty years; if that's not a sign that he can be trusted, well...

Eggsy decides to gamble it all on this Chester not being a complete bastard and tells him an edited version of the story (mostly withholding specific names and dates). Not just what happened in Kingsman, but also how fucking stupid Valentine's plan actually was, and the disasters that it caused even when it didn't fully go through. How close the world came to nuclear fallout.

Eggsy then is propped to 21st century, but he stays under the radar for this final visit to the past, not wanting to meddle further with time. At least as far as Kingsman is concerned.

(Dean, on the other hand, gets a very scary visit from a man that promises to slit his throat if he ever lays a finger on his wife and stepson again. )

When he's finally returned to the present, nothing has changed. Fuck. Fuck. He shouldn't have trusted Chester. Or maybe it was all futile to begin with. As far as he can check, everything played out almost the same way, which means that maybe time just can't truly be changed.

Some time passes. And then he receives a message. From an account named Lamorak, asking to meet in a location that only Eggsy and Chester knew about. Eggsy shows up armed to the teeth, not sure what to expect, but sure as hell not expecting to find Chester and Harry alive.

Both of them had put together what they'd both been told (intentionally or unintentionally) by Eggsy and come up with a plan. They'd play out events to the best of their ability, aware that the Eggsy they'd one day meet was not the same that they'd already met--with some insurance. There was never a poison in Eggsy's drink, it was always a drug so that Arthur could pretend to be dead. Harry didn't get shot in the head, he grabbed Valentine's hand and got shot in the heart instead.

You know. Supposedly.

They've both been lying in wait, unsure of exactly when Eggsy went back into the past, and taking the chance that enough time (ba dum tish) has passed and it's safe to come out. They've come up with an excuse for Harry to still be alive and have the trail of paperwork to back it up, but Chester is done. He's not coming back. He's fine with being known as a traitor. It was about time that Kingsman had a good shake up, anyway.

Low-key bittersweet parting, with lots of hugs (Eggsy insists because it's a long-running joke that Chester finds hugs insufferably twee and ridiculous) and Chester disappearing, and Harry and Eggsy getting their happily ever after.

we do not accept Kingsman 2 in this household, thank you.

[breckstonevailskier]

Rewriting Captain America: Civil War to actually make it a Captain America movie

Let's face it, the biggest problem with Civil War is that despite Captain America's name being in the title, it's not really a Captain America movie. It's more like an Iron Man 4 or Avengers 2.5 masquerading as a Captain America movie. I mean, the plot relies more heavily on threads from Avengers: Age of Ultron than it does Captain America: The Winter Soldier. Not to mention the creators deliberately trimmed/cut Team Cap scenes because they wanted audiences to be split 50-50 on what side to take, as if they needed to do that to make Team Iron Man Support a Piece of Legislation That Reads Like Something Written By HYDRA look good. And Tony Stark has more dialogue than Steve Rogers gets. And this is around the time when basically, the writing for the MCU decided to stop letting other characters call Tony out on his wrongdoings.

So how does one fix that?

General changes:

For starters, have HYDRA still be as important as they were in Captain America: The Winter Soldier. Rather than have them be conspicuously absent, they are still very much lurking in the shadows. Bonus points by having the movie strongly imply (and members of Steve's side speculate) that the Sokovia Accords might be a brainchild of HYDRA's. After all, the Accords (and the ways they basically take away the rights and freedoms of enhanced individuals) read like something out of Nazi Germany, the place that Red Skull's HYDRA originated in.

Scene by scene changes:

Lagos aftermath:

The opening act in Lagos remains unchanged. It's a great action setpiece. However, some extra stuff is added to acknowledge that Rumlow's cell is obtaining the bioweapon with the purpose of carrying out an attack directed at people who pose a threat to HYDRA's existence.

In the aftermath, what I would change is the press coverage that goes out of its way to vilify Wanda. T'Chaka's biased take blaming the heroes for the destruction caused by Wanda relocating the explosion can stay, and maybe the second one where if not for the mentions of Wanda, you'd think they were talking about Rumlow. But I'd also add at least one newscast that is speaking favorably of the heroes, and praising Wanda for her efforts.

I'd slightly tweak Steve's scene with Wanda, and instead of saying, "The deaths are on both of us," he'd say, "It's not your fault, Wanda. It's Rumlow's fault. It's not your fault that he was a spiteful coward who decided he wouldn't let us take him in alive." I'd also have a scene or two of Vision doing his best to comfort Wanda and provide her someone to express her thoughts to, not unlike this scene from WandaVision:

Also a thing I'd fix is that I'd have the Avengers make some sort of press statement to defend Wanda from those who are unfairly vilifying her. Something to the effect of Natasha, Steve, and/or Vision going in front of a gaggle of reporters to read a statement as follows:

For the past month, the Avengers have been in pursuit of Brock Rumlow, international terrorist and confirmed member of HYDRA. Last week, the Avengers tracked him down to Lagos, Nigeria, where his cell was plotting to steal a biological weapon that it is believed they were going to use to carry out an attack that would kill hundreds of people. Acting per their training, the Avengers engaged Rumlow and his men, successfully killing or incapacitating most of them, and reclaiming the bioweapon. Eventually, Rumlow was successfully cornered. However, as Captain America was preparing to arrest Rumlow, he decided to blow himself up. As there were hundreds of people in the immediate area, Wanda Maximoff instinctively stepped in and used her powers to try to relocate the explosion into the sky where it wouldn't kill anyone. Despite Miss Maximoff's efforts, she ended up losing control of the bomb, and it ended up destroying part of one office building. It is a tragedy that despite the Avengers' successful efforts to stop Rumlow, there were still innocent civilian casualties, including the dozen or so people in the office building that were killed by Rumlow when he blew himself up. However, the blame for those deaths does not fall on Wanda Maximoff. Those deaths are the fault of a madman who, two years ago, was part of a plot by an organization dating back to Nazi Germany to use gunships to mass murder 20 million people, and whose motto is "Cut off one head, two more shall take its place." In addition, it needs to be pointed out Miss Maximoff also saved the lives of everyone in that marketplace. If it was not for her split second thinking, hundreds more people would be dead. And if the Avengers were not there in Lagos, a group of terrorists would have successfully released a bioweapon into the world, one capable of killing thousands. The Avengers are not responsible for the destruction brought upon by the bad guys that they are attempting to stop. That blame should start and end with the bad guys.

Because yeah, that would do wonders for Wanda.

Ross blaming the heroes for the destruction caused by the villains:

Yeah, this is something where Ross is a fucking hypocrite. “How about ‘dangerous’? What would you call a group of US-based, enhanced individuals who routinely ignore sovereign borders and inflict their will wherever they choose and who, frankly, seem unconcerned about what they leave behind?” Then his biased presentation showing footage from the Chitauri invasion in New York (The Avengers), the destruction of the Triskelion (Winter Soldier), Sokovia (Age of Ultron), and Lagos. This presentation is clearly done to paint Steve and his allies in a bad light, and Tony in a good light.

Thing is, though, this is just Thaddeus Ross blaming the heroes for the destruction caused by the villains. Not only in every aforementioned situation would things be worse if the Avengers weren't there (New York City would've been nuked by the WSC, HYDRA would've gotten the Project Insight carriers launched and 20 million people dead, Ultron would've wiped out human life, and terrorists would've gotten away with a bioweapon), but Ross is a hypocrite to try to pin this destruction on the heroes given his failures to capture the Hulk and the destruction he caused in his efforts. @thehollowprince posited here that they really should've had Steve call Ross on his hypocrisy right there and then.

Like, in response to Ross's remarks, Steve would speak up to say, "The Avengers as a whole are not responsible for Ultron destroying Sokovia's capital city. If you want to blame someone for that, direct all your blame at that man who decided to go behind his teammates' back to create Ultron," and point an accusatory finger at Tony. And as I said, have Steve throw Ross's failure back in his face to show that he really has no skin in the game.

Passage from thehollowprince's take on what should've been said:

“But, in the spirit of fairness, let’s talk consequences.” Steve went on. “F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” “Yes, Steve?” The A.I. said from the speakers. “Could you roll footage of Culver University, spring semester, 2008?” The screen that had been off immediately clicked back on and began playing back footage from cellphones and cameras of Ross’ failed attempt to contain and capture the Hulk in the middle of a crowded campus, using an unauthorized enhanced human, as well as weapons that put the civilian population in extreme danger. The last image was of the Hulk launching an armored truck at another, the screen immediately going static as the footage was lost. “Harlem, three days later.” The Hulk’s fight with a severely mutated Blonsky showed on the screen next, as well as the atrocities that Emil committed on his own before Banner stepped in to stop him. Ross’s face was reddening at having one of his biggest failures played in front of the very people he was trying to intimidate. Harlem was on of his biggest failures and he did a lot to try and distance himself from it. “Thank you, F.R.I.D.A.Y.” Steve said and the screen froze on an image of the infamous Abomination lifting a car above his head, about to crush it into some police officers. “Tell me, Mr. Secretary, where were your consequences? Because from what I understand, you tried to pin the whole thing on Blonsky and Banner, getting a medal and a promotion for your trouble.”

And, as happens in the hollowprince fix-it, Steve, as a last-minute parting shot, drops a bombshell on Ross that he was on HYDRA's hit list and would've been eliminated by Project Insight in the initial attacks upon the helicarriers' launches.

The Accords debate itself:

The big problem with the debate itself is that it's very one-sided. It's more "Tony and his allies make a lot of flawed points, and no one on Team Cap is allowed to call them out on it." So basically, the way to fix it would be to rewrite the debate using a combination of this one by @thehollowprince, as well as these ficlets on Archive of Our Own.

So, obviously, I would rewrite the debate to be more in Team Cap's favor, while we get multiple opportunities for Tony's side's points to be quickly picked apart and called out. To give examples of how this could go:

Have someone on Team Cap point out the whole fact that HYDRA would benefit greatly from this legislation, since it would curtail the freedom of superheroes' ability to respond quickly. And even for those in the UN who might not be compromised by HYDRA, it's a power grab. And it's also a power grab for Ross.

When Rhodey brings up Ross's medal of honor, have Sam point out (as he does in thehollowprince's fix-it) that a Congressional Medal of Honor doesn't mean shit, and comes off with Ross like a white man being rewarded for doing a subpar job. (Also, have someone remind Rhodey that the Accords would've prevented him and Tony from rescuing the President of the United States from Aldrich Killian had they been in place at the time of Iron Man 3, especially seeing as the Vice President was also in Killian's circle.)

I'd cut Vision's whole BS equation entirely. Instead, I'd have him on the side of Team Cap for this movie, and logic, "The number of potentially world-ending events has risen at a commensurate rate. Oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand, but the form that is being given to us by Ross is one that makes me calculate that the next world ending event has a likelier chance of succeeding.” (Vision's reason for being on Team Cap here is partly because he cares for Wanda, but mostly because he views himself as human, and the way Ross just dehumanized Thor and the Hulk by likening them to nukes makes Vision think Ross would view him the same way; this would actually be consistent with the will he has in WandaVision where he wished not to be turned into a living weapon, the very will that Tyler Hayward disregarded. On top of which, he realizes that he, Wanda, and Steve would be the most severely impacted by the Accords because they seem to be harsher on those who have innate superpowers than those who have removable suits.)

Have an instance or two of Tony being called out on his America centrism. Particularly when he brings up Charlie Spencer's death. In response to that, I'd have Wanda snap at him with a bit of pure rage. Why would I have Wanda do this? Because he's basically ignoring all the Sokovian citizens who died, up to and including Wanda's brother. "And what about my brother, hmm? What about Pietro? Remember him? Does his death matter to you, Mr. Stark? Or do you not give a shit about him because he's not American?"

Use Ross's antics from The Incredible Hulk to posit that Ross or HYDRA or any party with nefarious intentions could use the clause about demanding enhanced give up blood samples so they could use said DNA to create their own army of super soldiers.

Peggy's funeral, UN bombing, pursuit of Bucky

There's few changes here. But one change I would make is that Steve wouldn't just go with Sam to bring in Bucky. I'd have Wanda and Vision brought along too, because after a serious discussion, they think that the best way to salvage Wanda's reputation with the public is to have her going out to do heroism in public. When they get to where Bucky is hiding out, they bring him in, and Wanda gets to use her telepathic powers to render unconscious some of the SWAT forces sent to bring Bucky in. Then T'Challa joins the pursuit, and they are all captured in the tunnel.

Wanda meets Zemo and T'Challa

We then have the whole setpiece at the detention center where Bucky is detained. Natasha is firmly on Team Cap's side, but is taking a neutral stance to gain dirt on the other side. In addition to all the canon interactions, we also have Wanda interacting with T'Challa and recognizing his revenge quest because she still remembers very well what it was like for her last year wanting revenge against the Avengers, and how badly that ended for her. She empathizes with T'Challa and tries to persuade him to look at the bigger picture, not with much success. When Zemo infiltrates the facility to activate Bucky's Winter Soldier programming, Wanda goes down with Steve to subdue him and ends up encountering Zemo. She recognizes him because she knew his wife and son before they died, she once met him at the dedication of one of the memorials to the victims of Ultron's attack, and he's got a reputation in Sokovia as a killer.

Airport battle

The airport battle obviously is very different. Tony has Rhodey, Spider-Man, T'Challa, and a few other superheroes (or maybe Ross's special forces are there as backup). While Steve has Bucky, Scott, Clint, Wanda, Natasha, Sam, and Vision. This airport battle plays out more in Steve's favor, and despite Tony's efforts, everyone on Steve's side makes it to the quinjet and flees to Siberia with him.

Siberia final act

Steve and his team enter the HYDRA base, and make it to the containment area where the other Winter Soldiers were kept on ice, and have been all put down by Zemo. The fact that the Winter Soldiers are already dead, all shot in the head with a pistol, makes Steve surmise that they're walking into a trap.

They've barely had time to acknowledge this when Team Iron Man arrives and corners them. At this point, Steve is fed up with Tony for having such flawed judgement, and T'Challa still very much is on the warpath against Bucky. But as the two sides prepare to clash once again, Zemo chooses this moment to reveal himself. He wasn't exactly expecting to have an entire Avengers team there, but he's willing to improvise. Zemo even tries to liken his crusade to Wanda's misguided revenge campaign, only for her to shut him down by pointing out that she never wanted innocent people to get hurt, whereas Zemo did murder innocent people for his crusade (T'Challa's father and everyone else at the UN; the doctor that he killed and stole the identity of to get into the detention center to activate Bucky). After that, Zemo plays the surveillance footage of Bucky killing Tony's parents.

The moment Steve and Natasha realize what the footage is showing, Steve gestures for the others on his team to get Bucky away from Tony. Rhodey also realizes that Tony's preparing to attack Bucky, and tries to reason with him, but to no avail. Steve doesn't want Zemo to win, so he clarifies that he didn't know it was the Winter Soldier that HYDRA used to kill Tony's parents. This only enrages Tony further, and a nervous Natasha admits that she was also there when Zola told Steve this information.

In that split second, all hell breaks loose. Tony's rage boils over and he shoots Natasha with one repulsor, throwing her backwards and knocking her out. He tries to shoot Bucky with the other, but Rhodey is able to grab his hand and deflect the blast away from Bucky.

A fight ensues. Like in canon, T'Challa is the one who captures Zemo, though he also has some help from Scott, Spider-Man, and maybe Clint. Meanwhile, the other Avengers are left either fighting Tony, protecting Bucky, or both. With a fight that basically plays out as a mix of "the Guardians plus Iron Man, Spider-Man and Doctor Strange vs. Thanos on Titan" and a bit of "Payback vs. Soldier Boy from The Boys".

Ultimately, the Avengers still in the bunker succeed in taking down Tony, but Natasha, Rhodey and Bucky take severe injuries in the process. The fight ends when Wanda leaps on Tony from behind and uses her powers to attempt to disorient him, giving Steve an opening to smash his arc reactor with his shield. Vision then tears it out of the armor for good measure.

The Avengers effectively turn their backs on Tony Stark, and the movie ends with them as a whole condemning his misguided actions as well as condemning the Sokovia Accords, and taking the unified position, "After the events that happened in the course of pursuing the person responsible for bombing the UN in Vienna, the Avengers have elected to reject the Sokovia Accords, although we are open to alternative forms of oversight if the UN is willing to negotiate with us and also purge their ranks of anyone who might have ties to HYDRA." They also make publicly condemn Tony for trying to murder Bucky out of misplaced anger. Vision and Wanda settle down in Westview, Clint and Scott return to their families, though they'll still meet up with Steve, Sam, Natasha and Bucky for missions, and Natasha still meets up with Yelena and her old spy "family" to destroy the Red Room.

This then segues into another movie that's about Steve and his team of Avengers (Sam, Natasha, and occasionally Wanda, Vision, and Clint) going around the United States doing everything to get the Accords struck down and Ross removed from office for his abuses of power (especially since while the UN's been forced to let them go, the Raft is a walking human rights violation that no one should be locked up in for any reason).

[lewisinho]

as the anon that asked for the race list: thank you!

now this is totally up to you if you have the time to spend on this, but this is my first year watching the races, and while I've been doing some background research to get up to speed, there is still a lot i don't know. i trust your judgment so what are some races and/or f1 adjacent things i should look into? i'm going through your McLaren list and have watched the last 4 seasons of dts and the brawn documentary. are there any other books/ documentaries/ races (especially seb's) / old youtube videos that are lost in the void that i should also check out?

again no pressure and thank you!

no problem!

(and btw welcome to f1 and the world of watching some glorified hot wheels every other sunday 😁 it’s great!)

i completely get how daunting it can be as a new fan in the sport. when i was getting back into f1 it also took me some time to get back up to speed with everything, especially all the techy stuff; i honestly learned the most through just watching the races (old and new), bc you get to see all the strategies play out, the pit-stops, the overtakes etc. and the terminology just becomes much easier to understand through sheer exposure. there are also some really cool f1 data analysis blogs you might want to follow on twt/x if you want some more detailed tech analysis and graphs if you’re into that sort of thing: (x)

as for seb, oh there’s a whole arsenal of recs i have!

monza 2008, rise of torro rosso wunderkind; i presume you already know the lore with that one but ig you can never get tired of it.

abu dhabi 2010, world championship no.1 “du bist weltmeister!”

interlagos 2012, the infamous one. this one’s a rollercoaster, chaos everywhere and the manifestation of murphy’s law: anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. amidst a title battle against nando, seb was fighting the weather, bruno senna’s front wing, a damaged side-pod, no radio, and somehow managed to claim p6 to win the championship

malaysia 2013, multi-21 (iconique), he was faster, deal with it. 💅

singapore 2013, domination masterclass from quali to the race. (also just all of his singapore wins...lion of singapore and all that)

india 2013, title no.3 secured, changed tyres on lap 2 and came out p17, was third by only lap 13 and then won the race by nearly 30 seconds. it was also his sixth win in a row. he went on to win three more. speaks for itself. also this:

malaysia 2015, first win with ferrari, can't forget that one, also features sewis’ gay knee-touching on the podium.

germany 2019, CHAOS, in which merc got bewitched by the special livery curse 😅, with crashes, spins, 50-second long pit stops, and also features one of seb’s best drives from p20 -> p2

i also highly recommend watching Floz's fan-made docus on youtube about 'the silver war' (there are also docus for the 2014 and 2015 seasons) as well as the merc v ferrari (lewis vs seb) 2017 fight and 'fight for five' in 2018, they're so much better than dts and actually give a full run-down of what happened during the season, with all the action on-track, with interviews and providing all the context! it's so well-edited as well (you literally feel like you're watching a movie about all of the seasons) and they are just incredibly fun to watch.

in general, i love rewatching races from 2017/18 (literally my comfort seasons), personal favs include spain 2017 (strategy galore and lewis v seb), baku 2017 (for obv reasons), austin 2017; and basically the 2018 season in its entirety...

as for books, there are many driver autobiographies e.g. jb (he’s even got two lmao), mark webbah etc. but i think the best f1 book out there is adrian newey’s memoir ‘how to build a car’ if you want lore + great insight into cars!

i’d also recommend watching some older races (i could do a separate post on which ones are my personal favs) but it’s all up to you in the end! go digging, look around on yt for some highlights and just keep exploring! 🫶💜

[spenceralexdutton]

Title: King of Hearts

Pairing: Spencer Dutton x Alexandra [Dutton]

Rating: M (this might change)

Setting: AU

Disclaimer: I do not own the Yellowstone characters!

The summary and plot are TBD, because this just came to me and I had to get it out of my head. I think you’ll get a good feel for what’s going on when you read but IF you need to be baited, which who doesn’t haha, Spencer is a bull rider (amongst other talents) and Alexandra is… well THAT I’m going to leave up to your imaginations for now! Likes, comments and reblogs not required but do help inspiration 💕I can already see them rolling around in the bed of his stock trailer living quarters but we have to get their first 👀

I do not currently have an alpha or beta reader so any typos are my own and I’ll do my best to catch them 🫡

Chapter 1

The paint horse stomped restlessly next to the cowboy. She knew her job and it was almost time. Her cowboy, on the other hand, was still brutishly nursing his shoulder from the fall he’d just taken off Silver King, the Charbray bull he couldn’t seem to stay on for more than five seconds.

The arena was packed, one of the more popular rodeos he’d ridden at. He was far from Montana, thankful for the four horse stock trailer he called home and the 1998 Dodge Ram dually that had gotten him here. He’d been following that bull since Wyoming. And he’d continue to, until he made those eight seconds count.

A group of giggling women made their way toward him and he sighed. Spencer Dutton didn’t have time for chatting or flirting - he had to get it together for calf roping, his mare telling him to hurry it up as she pranced in place. He was trying, Lord was he trying. But his fucking shoulder —

“I hear you’re the cowboy who has stayed on Silver King the longest.” A female English accent interrupted his thoughts. It was soft, airy and had a slight laughing arrogance to it.

“That so?” He replied gruffly, dropping the Biofreeze into his duffle before buttoning up his shirt, fighting the wince of pain. Spectators weren’t usually allowed back here. Maybe she was a VIP or owned one of the horses… he didn’t trouble himself with the thought too long.

“Yes,” she carried on, sidling up to him, hands behind her back. He gave her what was intended to be a brief glance but lasted a moment or two longer than it should have.

She had bouncing blonde curls that settled against her shoulders in a whimsical style. Her blue eyes danced before him, like she knew a secret he didn’t. “Rumor has it over 50 riders have tried and yet you’re leading in time.”

The mare stomped as he secured his worn leather gloves, regarding her wearily. “You write for a newspaper?”

“Sorry?” She cocked her head with question.

“Is this an interview or…?” He clarified, untying to mare from the pen rail.

“Oh! No, sir, it is not. Just had to come meet the cowboy who continues to try to beat the bull Rodeo Daily calls a maneater.”

That made him snort. He hadn’t heard Silver King called that yet.

“That’s what they’re calling him now huh?”

“It is. And you’re the hunter. Set out to bring him down.” She said it with such a way of excitement, like she’d read that off a movie title line.

He could feel his expression morph into some mix of amusement and boredom as he soothed Katy, the paint, with a gentle hand to her neck. “You believe everything you hear?”

“Only when I want it to be true.”

“And why would you want that to be true?”

“For the romance of it.”

“There’s no romance in this,” he replied, adjusting his hat out of discomfort. Who was she? Where did she come from? Why was she asking such… deep questions? Maybe she’d had too many drinks…

Her steady, passionate eye contact told him otherwise.

“Then why do you do it? Why put yourself in such a dangerous position constantly?”

He held her gaze. “Because dying is the most alive you’ll ever feel.”

It was like he’d lit up something inside her soul, something she’d long hid. Her eyes widen, almost mischievously as she leaned in closer. His heart beat slightly faster as he searched her eyes for some understanding of this interaction. “You don’t see the romance in that?”

He felt something within shift. Something inside of him went toward her like a dowsing rod searching for water. It was in her gaze, in her expression… he was drawn to her. And her gaze matched his, setting his long destroyed soul ablaze.

Before he could say anymore, the group of women he had heard before were surrounding her, laughing and carrying on in the way spectators always did. But he didn’t see them.

Spencer only saw her.

“Come on Alexandra, Arthur is waiting for us in the box..” one of the women said, pulling at the blonde’s arm. She let herself be pulled, but it was reluctant.

Neither spoke as she was pulled away and he was only brought back to the present when Katy stepped sideways, pushing herself into his side. He let himself be pulled back to reality as he pushed her lightly back. “Yeah yeah, I hear you, let’s go,” he pulled down one of the split reins to lead her toward the arena. His eyes lingered back toward the woman, Alexandra, though. She was gone, the sound of her friends only barely lingering in the air. But she stayed on his mind for moments longer, the question of who she was and what had just happened something that would stick with him for a while.