#summer ow oc

[tallglassofchoccymilk]

So anywayyy uhhhh *gives Gabbro a twin and a dead older sibling cutely*

For this universe, twins are pretty commonplace among Hearthians. Though, the hatchling mortality rate is decently high, so oftentimes, only one twin will make it. For Gabbro and Hubeite’s case, they turned out fine! Physically.

Hubeite is a bit of a good for nothing. They call themselves a singer. The older Hearthians don’t get it. Gneiss sympathizes, at least, though the concept of adding voice to music isn’t unheard of…Just uncommon. Hubeite dreams of a big audience that Timber Hearth will never have. Aside from that, they deflect their loneliness with arrogance, and are kind of known as being a prick in a charming way — or pitiful way — taking that Hubeite never did well academically 😭😭😭

Here’s a slew of other OCs, Hubeite included <3

[evans23]

Falling

Pairing : Hans Gruber x Reader OC

Summary : In the remanence of winter, Hans makes an unexpected encounter, which will bring a bit of peace in his chaotic life. Unfortunately, there is no happy ending for a man like him. 

Tag(s)/Warning(s) : Smut. Angst. No happy ending here.

A/N : Enjoy dear reader 😁

Part II

Also read on AO3

It was a chilly afternoon in the middle of Spring in Kensington Park. It was your favorite park, even though you didn't really know why. After all, according to your parents, all the parks in London looked the same, but you disagreed with this assumption.

Also, you were slightly biased as you worked as a saleswoman in the little shop adjacent to the palace. You didn't like your job, but you loved the castle and its history. In fact, your dream was just in front of the park, in the form of a school called Royal College of Art. Unfortunately, after having got your A-level, you didn't succeed in getting a scholarship and your parents were unable to finance your study. Therefore, you started to work for a local McDonald's, and then, you found yourself lucky to get a job in the souvenir shop of the castle, thanks to a relative who ceaselessly reminded you what you owed him as the job was well-paid and not as tedious as your previous one. More than often, the customers, tourists for most of them, were far more agreeable than the ones who frequented the fast food, and you didn't stink of the greasy fries each night when you came back to your cramped apartment.

Also, the uniform was more comfortable and flattering than the horrendous one you had to wear and you could let your curly hair hang down your back without being reprimanded by your boss who was afraid of seeing one of your unruly hairs in the middle of a bag of fries. On the other hand, what should have been temporary had become permanent and while all you're friends were breezing through their plan life, you struggled to keep your own life on track.

That day, you had finished your shift in the early afternoon and as you weren't ready to face the loneliness of your life, all alone in your small apartment with a too expensive rent for so few rooms, you had decided, despite the coldness, to sit on a bench in the Walk of Flower to read one of your favorite book: "Notre Dame de Paris" from Victor Hugo.

You didn't notice the stranger who sat on the bench next to yours. You were too engrossed in your book for that and anyway, the park was well frequented by many people, locals, residents, or tourists for you to really notice them. 

However, there weren't too many tourists at this time of the year. It was still too cold and rainy. It will change in less than one month. The park, the street, and the castle would be crowded for six months or more until the winter settled anew, a welcomed calmness around the venue but also in the busyness of your work.

During the summer, you didn't have any time for your hobbies as it was busy as it get at each hour of each day. You often worked more than eight hours a day as you were always willing to help your overworked colleagues either in the shop, the little coffee, or at the reception, diligently searching the bags with your little flashlight, looking for anything suspicious or sharp.

“Love is like a tree: it grows by itself, roots itself deeply in our being, and continues to flourish over a heart in ruin,” said the stranger in a thunderous voice and with a perfect French if it hadn’t been for his slight accent.

Startled, you looked up at him. He was tall, his broad shoulders and his black hair adding something quite intimidating to his natural charisma. He also had a hooked nose which was nothing short of engrossing.

"I apologize," he said, now speaking in English, "it wasn't my intention to frighten you..." 

"[Y/N]," you said, your voice shaking a little bit.

He chuckled at that. He knew what effect he had on women.

“Nice to meet you, [Y/N]. I am Hans.”

He didn't know why he had given you his real name. Not that he was hiding in London. Actually, he owned a humongous and beautiful property only 30 minutes by car from the park. It was a secure place where he came after a rough mission or when he needed to vanish into thin air for his own sake.

“You're not from here,” you said, having recognized a foreign accent.

“Indeed,” said Hans who got up.

You looked at him from your bench. He was more intimidating up in front of you than before.

“May I?” he asked, gesturing towards the bench where you were comfortably settled.

“Of course,” you answered, moving your bag to make room for him.

“So, you read in French,” he said as a matter of fact.

“I don’t understand everything,” you admitted.

"I believe so, Victor Hugo is a convoluted author, even for a native speaker."

“And where are you from?” you insisted, wanting to know where this delicious accent came from.

He chuckled at your persistence, yet he told you he was from Germany. Hans was able to imitate the British accent perfectly, but he hadn't felt the need to deceive you. You looked quite innocent, and you were. Anyway, how could you have guessed you were talking with a thief, a mobster, a criminal ?

He talked with you the whole afternoon. You understood very quickly that he was an educated man, with a lot of culture and a perspicacity you could envy him for.

As you parted, he kissed the back of your hand like a true gentleman, the one in your romantic books. You didn't know what had got into you to confide so many private things about yourself to a stranger, but talking to him was easy, and there was so much on your heart that you needed to confide. Maybe because you knew he was just a stranger that you would never see again had made things easier. You felt lighter but also disappointed to know that you would never see him again.

But Hans wasn't indifferent to you either. Hans was intrigued by you. He had already noticed you a few days before when you were walking in the streets to reach the metro station. You were wearing your work uniform, that's how he knew that to find you, he had to go for a walk around Kensington Park.

Hans didn't really know what had caught his attention about you. Your face was certainly pleasant to look at but it didn't stand out from the crowd, your stiff gait spoke volumes about the pressure you felt in your life and you had a disillusioned pout that probably didn't make many people want to get to know you.

However, there was something about you that had intrigued him. Enough to want to meet you at least once. He hadn't expected to see you sitting all alone in the Walk of Flowers. Walkers rarely sat for too long, the cold quickly numbing their hands and feet. And yet, there you were, reading your book, a book that Hans had read many times in its original version too.

He had been surprised at how easy it was to talk to you. You were intelligent, not as much as he was, but not everyone could come up with escape plans and high-flying heists, you had wit and a dry sense of humor that he appreciated. You also had that disillusioned look of those who had already seen too much to still be truly surprised by existence. Hans knew this expression well for having experienced it himself. 

It was a long time ago when he was a teenager dragged from home to home, separated from his brother, missing a father who died when he was only eight years old, and a loving mother. Their mother to Simon and him was an alcoholic who beat them for yes or no. It was often his big brother who suffered their mother's anger because he was not afraid to defy her or to come between her and his little brother. He remembered a day when his mother who had drunk more than reason and had just been dumped by her umpteenth boyfriend had destroyed the model airplane he was building for no good reason other than to make her son suffer as much as she suffered. She had raised her hand to hit him, but Simon had stepped between him and her, taking the slap instead of Hans.

Hans shook his head as if to make all those bad memories go away. It was a long time ago. When he was just a weak little boy. It was before the army that he had met an important man who was a member of German high society. Thanks to him, after his military service, he had been able to join the university where he had received a solid education in history, foreign languages, economics, and politics. Hans was intelligent and able to absorb thousands of pieces of information in no time. His eidetic memory was a real gift that had allowed him to join the Volksfrei where he had definitely hardened himself. So hardened that his ruthless behavior had earned him being kicked out of the organization.

He had worked as a mercenary for a while after that, but tired of having to answer to other people's orders, Hans had decided to become his own boss by carrying out his own terrorist activities with a group of trusted men in his pay. It had been a long time since the weak little boy had disappeared in favor of the man he was today.

And yet, your presence this afternoon had awakened something vulnerable in him. He wanted to see you again. He was going to see you again. He was going to make you his, whether you wanted it or not.

He thought about it, developing a plan to make you fall into his nets. He wanted to be subtle to give you the impression that you had had a choice. Little did he know that you were already partially won over to his cause. Indeed, the man with the imposing stature, the broad shoulders, and the nose of a Greek god had not left you indifferent.

He returned to Kensington Park two days later, waiting for your service to end. He watched you from afar to see you following the same path as last time to join the Walk of Flowers where you sat on the same bench as last time, another book in your hands.

"Did Victor Hugo get the better of your determination?" he asked, a teasing smile on his lips.

You jumped, which made him chuckle.

"Hans," you said, a hand on your chest, "you scared me."

"Sorry, that wasn't my intention."

He sat down next to you without asking your permission, not that you minded.

"So, Victor Hugo?"

"Finished last night."

Hans arched an eyebrow, surprised. You had finished one of the most difficult books in French literature in two days and after admitting that you didn't always understand the formal language of the book.

"Test me if you don't believe me," you had challenged him when you saw the doubt etched on his features.

He didn't need to be asked twice and had to admit that you had read the book, which make you be more surprising and impressive than he thought you were at first glance.

This little game of cat and mouse had lasted several months. Hans could afford it, his last heist, the robbery of a Russian bank, had earned him enough to live on for the next ten years. Of course, he wouldn't sit idly by for the next ten years. He wanted more. Much more. Millions to be able to disappear forever and live the great life he had always dreamed of. Except that now, he wanted you to be part of his dream.

However, how could he involve you in his life without putting you in danger ? And how could you never find out who he really was ?

Some of his men had a woman in their life. One of them was even married and had a child, but was it really a life to have to hide who you really are from the person who shared your bed ?

Of course, Hans had had many women in his arms, but never a woman he wanted to spend more than one night with.

Six months after your first meeting, he had invited you to his secluded house. A large mansion that could have contained your apartment, your parent's house, and your big sister's house all in one. Hans had cooked for you and charmed you a little more with his words that flowed like honey in your ears and his German accent that made you shiver constantly.

A year later, you were an official couple, much to Hans's delight, who for once in his life hadn't had to fight too hard to get what he really wanted. And God may be his witness, he wanted you, loved you and he would never let you go. You lived at his place and while he didn't hide the fact that he was a rich man, you didn't really know where the money came from.

Officially, he had introduced himself as a businessman. But you knew that something wasn't right in what he had told you. The designer clothes he lavished you with and the one he wore every day, the jewelry he showered you with at every opportunity, the luxury cars and the incessant business trips, something didn't add up to what he was telling you.

Yet, he was a passionate lover and even if you had already seen his bad temper surface when something displeased him, with you he was nothing but tenderness and patience. A trait that no one would have granted to Hans. He himself was amazed at how much he could be another man with you. You brought a calm to his life that he had ignored he had needed until now. You were the calm in his tumultuous life as a gangster.

You had tried to question him several times, but each time, he had turned you down, sometimes harshly and you had ended up understanding that what he did for a living was a subject not to be discussed. You were not totally stupid and even if you didn't know exactly what he did to earn all this money with which he flooded you, you assumed that he must be part of the mafia. Or something like that. Something that should have made you run away, but you were already too much in love with Hans, too captivated by his mysterious aura and the danger that surrounded him to be afraid of sharing your life with a mafioso.

The fact that with you, Hans allowed himself to be softer, and more vulnerable, only made him more endearing. Your parents didn't approve of the relationship between you, your mother having immediately had doubts about Hans' intentions. But neither he nor you gave any importance to what others might think. You wanted him more than you had ever wanted anything else in your life, more than you had wanted to study at a prestigious art school or become the next greatest painter in the United Kingdom. You were hopelessly in love with the mysterious German man who had captured your heart and soul.

Although Hans was less demonstrative in his feelings, he felt the same way about you. You were the calm, the peace, in his hectic life. He found solace in your simple presence. Many times he had told himself that he had to end this union, that he had to push you away, but each time he had tried to do so by being cold and distant with you, your confusion and incomprehension at his sudden coldness towards you had made his heart melting and he had always come back more in love and tender than before, doing his best to be forgiven for his harsh behavior towards you during the day with a crazy and passionate night of love.

Hans wasn't naive, he knew that if he wanted to build something serious with you, he would have to put an end to his activities and disappear with you. At some point, he would have to confess the truth to you even if he was well aware of your suspicions and how close you were to the truth.

It was on September that he had a brilliant idea. An idea that would earn him millions. Enough to ensure a comfortable life for both of you in Fiji or anywhere that would please you. He was going to attack the CEO of Nakatomi Tower. A high-flying theft worth more than $600 million if he and his men played their game well.

But it was not going to be easy and his sharp mind had to prepare the best of plans. He had already worked out dangerous, complicated, risky cases, but this one was the most important of his entire gangster career. When a man steals $600, he can just disappear, but when a man steals $600 million, he knew that the police and secret agencies of the whole world will be after him. Unless they thought he was dead. However, he was no longer alone now and he had to think of you, which made the whole organization of his plan more difficult than usual, even for a gifted person like him.

His brother had warned him that getting emotionally involved with you was dangerous for him, but he had not listened to him, sure of himself as usual. Except that for once, Simon was right. The love he had for you was worse than all the enemies he had faced so far.

"Another departure Hans ? You've already disappeared all of October," you said wearily.

It was the first week of December and he had just told you that he would have to be away until the end of December on business trip.

"Work is work. You're happy to have nice clothes, to parade around in beautiful jewelry, to wear designer perfume, and to live a life of luxury. Without me, you would never have been able to quit this job that made you unhappy and to treat yourself to these art classes that you wanted so much," he pointed out more harshly than he had intended.

But he was tired of your reproaches. It had been the same for a few months every time he had to leave. It was stronger than you. You wanted to know the truth, a truth that he refused to tell you and it hurt you. Yet, you loved him too much to have the courage to leave him.

"If you think I'm with you for the money, then you don't know me very well Hans. Keep your clothes and your jewelry. I never asked you for anything! If you did it, it's because you wanted to!"

"Exactly! The best for you is everything I want and nothing else. We've been together for two years, you're an intelligent woman [Y/N], and you know that this life that I allow you to lead doesn't come without sacrifice."

You didn't answer because somewhere, somewhat, you knew he was right and even though you were frustrated by his unspoken words, you loved enjoying the life of luxury he was lavishing you with.

You sighed, closing your eyes and rubbing your forehead, feeling a headache coming on. Hans came closer and took your hands in one of his while the other gently massaged your lower back.

"Mein leibe, I promise you that after that everything will change."

"How?"

"You'll see. In the meantime, don't give me the cold shoulder. I don't want to go to the United States knowing that mein pearl is mad at me. I won't be able to concentrate if I know that you're angry with me," he coaxed you.

"I'm not angry Hans, I'm just... worried and... I'd like you to be completely honest with me."

"Mein leibe..." Hans sighed, "everything will change, I promise, but no more questions for tonight, okay?"

You nodded, still a little frustrated by his silences that separated you more than they brought you closer. Sensing the distance that your disappointment was putting between you, Hans placed a series of kisses along the back of your neck.

"Bitte, mein leibe, bitte, don't be angry with me."

"Hans..."

"Bitte," he whispered in your ear.

You turned your head and he took the opportunity to capture your lips. Very quickly, your kiss turned into a fiery passion. He hoisted you easily and you instinctively hooked your arms around his hips. He led you to the bedroom where he gently laid you down on the bed.

"You can't always get away with a quickie, even if sex with you is better than a pizza from Rudy's," you said jokingly.

"Mein leibe, I'm sure that my cock inside your tight pussy is the best way to have you under my control," Hans whispered with a predatory smile.

You gasped and your breath got caught in your throat. Hans's smile widened even more and with an expert gesture, he removed your t-shirt. You weren't wearing a bra to his great pleasure and he immediately went in search of your chest to suck on one of your nipples. You moaned in pleasure, your hands running under his t-shirt to caress his firm chest.

"Tell me you want me," Hans whispered.

"Hans..." you moaned under his caresses.

"Say it!" he ordered while walking two of his fingers near your entrance, delighting in your pussy swollen with arousal and your wetness that wet his fingers even though they weren't penetrating you.

"I want you, Hans. I need you, I need you inside me," you said breathlessly.

It didn't take much for Hans to help you getting rid of your skirt and stockings. You unbuttoned his pants and he helped you take them off, while with a quick gesture of his hand, he got out of his t-shirt which joined the rest of your clothes on the floor.

He didn't bother with the foreplay, entering you directly. You were already so wet that he had no trouble sinking all the way into your tight pussy, moaning as he felt your walls tighten around his cock.

"Your pussy has been made for me, just for me," he whispered in your ear.

"I only exist for you," you replied, biting his earlobe.

He pushed himself deeper into you, the sound of skin meeting skin with each thrust echoing through the room, mingling with your panting breaths and Hans' deep voice whispering words of love to you in both German and English.

"[Y/N], my lovely [Y/N], if you knew what you're doing to me, you and your tight little pussy... HAAA... [Y/N]," he groaned, making you hornier still.

As you reached your climax, Hans pulled out suddenly, making you hiss at the feeling of his cock being lost in your cunt. With a deft gesture, he turned you around and, your stomach pressed against the bed, he pushed in as hard as he had pulled out of your little cunt, tugging gently on your hair while his other hand was on your throat. He thrust faster, again and again until he felt the two of you approaching your climax. He then turned you to the side with one leg between yours and the other above yours, one hand still on your throat, the other cupping your breasts as he continued to thrust into you at a frantic pace.

"Hans, please, don't stop... I'm gonna... I'm gonna..."

"Come meine leibe... Come, come for me," he whispered in your ear.

It didn't take him more than two thrusts for your orgasm to shake your entire body with pleasure. Feeling your tight walls contract against his cock, Hans was quick to come in turn with an animalistic growl.

He pulled out carefully and you immediately snuggled up against him, finding solace between his arms, basking in the afterglow of your encounter. You quickly fell asleep, exhausted by the passion shared with Hans who stayed awake almost all night watching you while caressing your nipples with his fingertips, taking pleasure in seeing them harden under his caresses.

The next day, you woke up alone with a note on Hans' pillow.

Ich leibe dich. Hans.

Three weeks later

You were in front of the TV watching the Nakatomi Tower attack, tears flooding your eyes when you recognized Hans. In the end, he was not a mafia boss but a gang leader, a gangster, a thief, a criminal. And despite this revelation, your love for him didn't weaken.

You couldn't help but scream when the roof of the tower exploded, leaving the building on fire, and when the journalists announced that all the hostages had gone and the terrorists were out of control by a hothead working for the police. Later, the man named John McClane told reporters that Hans had fallen to his death from the top of Nakatomi Tower.

You fell to the ground screaming before curling up into a ball, sobbing and screaming Hans' name until you fell asleep. The next day, a man came to your house. He introduced himself as Simon and claimed to be Hans' brother. You knew your lover had a brother but he had never told you anything more about him. However, something about this man inspired confidence in you. The same confidence you had had in Hans. He returned the next day with a man with a gaunt and severe face, a lawyer who had papers for you to sign. Hans, afraid of not getting out of this, had prepared everything to ensure your future without him. Considerate, he had left you a fortune that could have benefited you for your next three lives. Except you didn't want a single one of these lives if Hans wasn't by your side.

A year later

Wrapped in a thick coat, a woolen scarf eating your face, you stood in front of a headstone, in the middle of a small, poorly maintained cemetery, in the town with the unpronounceable name of Schkeuditz.

It had taken you a while to make up your mind and come say a last goodbye to him, but the closer the anniversary of his death had got, the more you needed to be close to him, even if he had left you a gift that would allow you to keep him by your side forever and ever.

There was only a first and a last name on the grave. Hans Gruber. No words in his memory, no flowers. Just an unfortunate headstone in the middle of a thousand others. A name among many others, a name that no one would remember in a few years. No one except you, until your own death relieved you of the pain of losing your great love. You would never be able to get over Hans' death, you would never be able to love as you had loved him and you knew that no man would ever be able to offer you what Hans had offered you. You didn't think about the money and the luxurious life you continued to lead thanks to his thoughtfulness, but about his charismatic presence, the strength he gave you with just a look and the unyielding love you shared. The intimate moments that had made you closer than ever and how, even when you had tragically learned who he really was, you had loved him even more.

"[Y/N]," a baritone voice said.

You turned to acknowledge Simon's presence.

"You shouldn't come here."

"It's been a year today. A year since he... Nakatomi Tower... A year," you said, crying.

"I know. But coming here to mope won't bring him back."

"I know," you said through a sob.

"You're not supposed to be associated with him. Ever. Not now that a part of him is alive."

"No one knows he's his," you pointed out right away.

"And no one must ever know. Go home, [Y/N], grieve as much as you need, then start a new life, forget what you went through with Hans, pretend he never existed, and never come back here," Simon said coldly.

You knew Simon was saying that to protect you and the precious passenger waiting for you in the back seat of the car you'd rented to drive here.

"Go get to him before he wakes up and sees you're not here. I don't want my nephew crying. It's Christmas, and on Christmas, he should be the happiest little boy in the world."

You nodded and walked away, but not before kissing the tips of your fingers that you then placed on Hans' grave.

You got into the car and turned to the back seat, smiling fondly, though your smile didn't reach your eyes.

"I promise to be strong for both of us," you whispered so as not to wake the child who was fast asleep in his car seat.

Your heart was broken by the death of the man you had loved more than life itself, but as a testament to your love, he had left you with a good reason to live and fight. An eternal love that would live forever in the heart of your son. His son. Your son.

[gallaghersgal]

౨ৎ A PRIVATE AFFAIR

couple(s); will smith x lily copeland (oc), macklin celebrini x sofia harmon (oc)

summary; after mack and sof go public, fans begin to speculate about the couple's best friends.

author's note; i hit the 30 photo limit trying to add another post soooo this will be continued in my next installment!

part of the double dates & double dares au. prev. next.

liked by lilymcopeland, mackcelebrini, _willsmith2, 903 others

sofsdiary not bc he owns me, but cause he really knows me 💕

120 comments

mackcelebrini my girl!

sofsdiary your girl :))

user01 i'm gatekeeping you two

lilymcopeland literally the cutest

🔒 private account

liked by sofsdiary, _willsmith2, mackcelebrini, 1,027 others

lilymcopeland since when are boys allowed on a girls trip?

205 comments

sofsdiary so why were you and mack hanging from the ceiling again? (❤️ by creator)

lilymcopeland he dared me to do it

mackcelebrini she double dared me i couldn't say no

_willsmith2 you know you had fun lils (❤️ by creator)

user01 HELLOOOO the pic with will 🤨

saraharmon were they invited bc i couldn't go? (❤️ by creator)1

lilymcopeland yes please come home from grad school the kids miss you

saraharmon the kids??

lilymcopeland me and sof 🙁

liked by lilymcopeland, mackcelebrini, sofsdiary, 13.2k more

_willsmith2 🏄🏼

3.8k comments

lilymcopeland i was in fact laughing at how out of tune the guitar was (❤️ by creator)

user01 is it just me or are will and lily....

user02 have you seen her post?

user03 shes @lilymcopeland but i think she went priv again!

sofsdiary will show them the sunburn

_willsmith2 mack's was worse

mackcelebrini dude shut up

🔒 private account

liked by mackcelebrini, sofsdiary, _willsmith2, saraharmon, 1,128 others

lilymcopeland happy to be back in cali ☀️🌊

108 comments

_willsmith2 photo creds?? (❤️ by creator)

lilymcopeland photos by my fav co-chaperone 🥰

sofsdiary ok everyone its over my best friend is prettier than urs (❤️ by creator)

lilymcopeland no one's prettier than mine!

user01 we need a lily emoji 🌼

user02 is it just me or is that the letter w on lil's bracelet?

user03 probably an m for her middle name

user04 photos by will...

user05 which could mean nothing.....

liked by mackcelebrini, lilymcopeland, _willsmith2, 37.1k others

sofsdiary loves summertime!

11.3k comments

mackcelebrini sorry you were allergic to the flowers 😬 (❤️ by creator)

sofsdiary aww its ok baby

_willsmith2 you still owe me gas money

sofsdiary 😶😶

lilymcopeland pretty (❤️ by creator)

user01 will and lily are so fucking cute

user02 u can't convince me they aren't together.

saraharmon summer looks good on you sof (❤️ by creator)

user03 mack and sunny MY HEART (❤️ by creator)

sofsdiary aren't they the cutest

user03 YES

🔒 private account

liked by sofsdiary, saraharmon, _willsmith2, 1,038 others

lilymcopeland you guys probably know, but i'll keep it quiet a little longer <3

471 comments

_willsmith2 nails look great (❤️ by creator)

sofsdiary cutest couple i know (❤️ by creator)

lilymcopeland idk i might know a cuter one

mackcelebrini hey don't bring those flowers near my girl they're poisonous

sofsdiary pls i just have pollen allergies 😭

lilymcopeland we didn't keep the flowers at my place...

user01 OH MY GOD OKAY ITS HAPPENING

user02 so she. basically just confirmed she's with will?

user03 he commented too i'm in shambles

user04 whoever he is. did he pay for the nails?

lilymcopeland he paid for the nails!

saraharmon girl ft me??

lilymcopeland will do 🤭

© gallaghersgal, 2025

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

You're the Only Girl for Me- Chapter 20

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

All OC Characters belong to me

August 1st 2021

Airielle jumped and let out a gasp as someone knocked on her driver's side window. 

“Girl, are you okay?” Trinity asked her. “How long have you been down here? Yas is still upstairs waiting for you.” 

Airielle just shrugged, she didn’t know how long she actually sat in the garage. Her mind was all over the place, because she had to be imagining Christopher… right? There was no way in hell he was in Pensacola. What were the actual chances? 

“Airi?” Trinity called out again, unlocking her phone and sending a quick text to Yas who was down in the garage at record breaking speed. 

“Airielle?” Yas called out her name as she got closer to her car. She looked over at Trinity who shrugged. 

“I was going to my car and found her out here.”  Trinity sent a quick text message to her husband telling him that she was staying with Airielle, there was no way she was leaving her best friend after seeing her in this state. 

“Sweetie.. Come-on” Yas said softly as she unbuckled Airielle’s seatbelt and gently pulled her out of the car. “What happened?”

“He-He” Was all Airielle could get out, as Trin and Yas led her back up the elevator to her apartment. Yas sighed, suddenly feeling guilty that she told Airielle to go talk to Josh.  Yas and Trin helped Airielle into her apartment and sat her down on the couch. Trinity went into the kitchen to call Josh and give him a piece of her mind while Yasmine sat on the chair and watched her cousin.

Yasmine had only seen Airielle like this one other time and that was on their vacation to California last summer where they almost ran into Christopher. He didn’t see them but Airielle damn sure saw him and shut down for the rest of the vacation, refusing to leave their hotel room. But there was no way… right? 

Airielle didn’t know how long she had been sitting on the couch, all she knew was that her body no longer felt numb.  “He’s in Pensacola, Yas.” Airielle whispered and Yasmine felt her heart drop into her stomach.  “I went to the pier to clear my mind after going to Josh’s and when I opened my eyes, he was there. Just staring at me.”  Airielle whispered and all Yasmine could do was blink at her, she was trying to form words but her brain had stopped working. “He wasn’t real though, right?” Airielle asked, her eyes pleading with Yasmine to agree.  Yasmine nodded instantly

“He wasn’t real Airi, I promise.” Airielle let out a shaky breath and let herself sink into the couch. 

“He wasn’t real.” Airielle repeated. But no matter how many times she said it, she knew it wasn’t true, and him being in Pensacola was only the beginning.

August 20th 2021

AIRIELLEJONES

liked by yasmine_jones, trinity_fatu and 190,000 others

AirielleJones: 🥂🖤

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user: okay but the bob eats!

user: the bob!!

trinity_fatu: oooh girl. that bob is everything ! (❤️ by author)

850-876-5643: Airielle talk 2 me  850-876-5643: Please 850-876-5643: just answer the phone so i can explain.  850-876-5643: stop ignoring me. 

Airielle threw her phone in her bag as she entered The Footprint Center in Phoenix, Arizona. Josh had texted her every damn day trying to explain himself and he honestly didn’t need to. He was single and could do whoever he wanted to. He didn’t owe her an explanation but he was hell bent on giving her one. 

Airielle definitely needed those two weeks off, Paul had even granted her an extra week after Airielle lied and said she had a death in the family.. It was wrong but shit, the mere thought of going back outside and probably running into Christopher scared her shitless. She had somehow managed to survive off of whatever she had in her cabinets and pantry which mainly consisted of canned goods and chex mix. 

“Hey.” Airielle jumped - she’s been doing a lot of that lately- “Woah.” Josh said, holding his hands up as he walked closer to her. “ I didn't mean to scare you Rih, You good?”

“You look nice.” He said and she rolled her eyes. 

“Josh, wassup?” 

Josh was taken aback by her standoffish attitude, she had never been like this with him. “You been ignoring me. I wanted to talk about what happened.” Airielle let out a soft grunt and looked around,checking her surroundings,  she had been doing a lot of that lately, too. She let out a quiet hum as she noticed Yara and Zelina standing by the other end of the hallway, looking in her direction. 

“Rih.” Josh called out, cupping her jaw and bringing her attention back to him. “I ain’t mean for that to happen. I was hurt and upset and-” 

“Josh , stop” She cut him off, removing his hand from her face. “You don’t have to explain anything to me. You’re single, you can do whatever you want.” She tried to walk around him but he stepped in her way. 

“Bullshit, you’re upset.” Airielle sighed and closed her eyes. She was on the verge of a breakdown and she needed to get away from Josh ASAP. 

“I’m not upset.” She lied and Josh knew she was lying. But there was nothing he could do about it and it pissed him off. He wanted her to talk to him and to stop keeping shit bottled up inside.  “Can I go now?” 

Josh sucked his teeth and moved out of the way, letting her pass. For some reason he felt as if he had cheated on her and he wanted to fix things, but shit.. She kissed Raymond first. He sucked his teeth again and walked in the opposite direction to start getting ready for his match against Rey Mysterio. 

Airielle held her head up high as she strutted past Yara and Zelina, she had almost walked past them when Yara reached out and grabbed her wrist, stopping her. 

“Hey, um- i’m gonna need you to stay away from my man.” Yara stated, flipping her cheap ass wig over her shoulder. Airielle scoffed and looked around to see who she was talking to. 

“Excuse me.” 

“Don’t play dumb. You know that’s my nigga now. You’re old news, you have no need to be talking to him anymore.” 

“Girl, get the fuck off of me.” Airielle laughed, snatching her arm out of Yara’s grasp. 

 “I'm being so forreal right now. I might be new, but he’s my man and you're getting too comfortable.” Airielle had to giggle at the look of anger on Yara’s face. 

“Maybe you should be having this conversation with ya’ man. He been blowing my phone up for days.” 

“All I'm saying is stay away from my man.” Airielle sighed and rolled her eyes.  oh boy.

“Tell your man to stay away from me.” Airielle winked and shouldered her way past an angry Yara and amused Zelina. 

Airielle : 1  

Yara : 0

Sooo... hope i didn't disappoint w/ this chapter 😭

Yara is a grade A BITCH but Airielle can handle that ass.

I like how Josh's number is no longer saved in her phone neither lol

it went from being Josh to Josh ❤️ to J.Uso and now just a number lmao.

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

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[ash5monster01]

Getaway Camp : Prologue

Pairing: Charlie Dalton x OC!Fem

Warnings: language, flirting, fluff, annoyance towards others, harsh parents, meet cute.

Summary: Charlie leaves home early for volunteer work in the Catskills, finally feeling free from his father, and on the path to the life he always dreamed of having. Yet when he arrives he meets someone who can’t help but capture his attention and he realizes fairly quickly that he’s already screwed.

word count: 2.3k

Masterlist

→ One

June 4th 1961

Charlie wouldn’t consider himself much of a nature guy, but anything would do if it meant getting out of his parent’s house sooner. He had already been accepted to Columbia in the Fall but he didn’t have enough money to rent an apartment in the city quite yet. Which is how he discovered Adler’s West Lake Resort and Lodge. His counselor said the school looked fondly onto volunteers who worked there in the summer. So Charlie packed everything up and got himself the job. After all how bad could it be? A summer away in the Catskills, free food, free boarding, and a few rowing lessons here and there. He could handle it.

“Alright honey, do you need anything for your drive?” his mother asked from the porch, watching as he loaded his stuff in the back of the station wagon. She tried to pretend that she didn’t notice he had packed everything but a small part of her heart broke. This was truly it.

“I’m fine Mom, I promise” he told her, mind stuck on the five hour drive ahead of him.

“Okay honey, make sure you call and let us know when you get there” and both of them pretended not to notice the small chuckle that left his fathers mouth as he read the paper on the patio furniture.

“I will and you have the address and number to the resort already” Charlie reminded her, jogging up the porch where he quickly towered over his mother’s height. She hated how tall he had gotten, a grown man now, no longer her little boy.

“Be safe and good luck at school” she told him before pulling him into a hug. Charlie squeezed her right back, thankful to at least have a loving mother.

“I will Mom, thank you” he told her and she sighed, fighting back tears that threatened to spill over. Her only child driven away by the harsh expectations of her husband. He had been hurt so much by the world already and the minute he graduates high school he is off and running away from her.

“I’m about to head off, sir” Charlie says as he pulls away from his mom, walking to stand in front of his father.

“Good, you wouldn’t want to hit the afternoon rush traffic outside of the city” his father mutters, hands flipping the page of his newspaper. He felt that he owed nothing to his son. The only things his son had ever done was get himself kicked out of the best school in Vermont and cost him a lot of money pulling strings to still get him in an ivy league school.

“Exactly so thank you sir” Charlie said, holding his hand out and waiting for his father to bid him goodbye. He never cared much about what his father thought of him but he also figured if his father didn’t say some sort of goodbye he would always have control over some aspect of his life.

“Goodbye son, don’t dick around too much. That’s my name you’re tainting when you do that” his father responded, hand sliding into his own and firmly shaking it.

“I’ll do my best sir, I promise” Charlie said before letting his father’s hand go one last time. He was going to use these next four years to his benefit and take the well deserved break he needed. He couldn’t believe he spent all those years at Welton wishing his parents wanted him around more. What a waste.

“I guess we’ll see” is the last thing he says to him before returning his attention to the paper in his hand. Sighing Charlie brushes his hands down the front of his button up shirt and turns back to his Mom with a soft smile.

“Goodbye Mama” he says, swiftly kissing her cheek and the tears finally break through and cascade down her cheeks as Charlie jogs to his car that holds every piece of his belongings. He knew he didn’t need all of it for camp but he also knew his car could act as a private storage locker so he wouldn’t have to come back here before classes started.

“Bye baby, we’ll miss you” she calls out as the car rumbled to life and Charlie waved a hand out as he shifted the car in gear and headed down the long driveway. He knew his father would more than likely not miss him but it was kind that his mother still tried, so he waved his hand out his open window for her until she could no longer see him driving down the road.

The drive was fairly easy. Only two missed turns and one incident with a wrinkled map and Charlie was finally pulling his car up to the main lodge, the sun casted over the large lake beside it. It was quiet since campers wouldn’t be here until next week and Charlie was surprised to feel peace from the quiet and warmth that resonated in the area around him. Killing the engine he stepped out the car and started for the doors, prepared for direction to his cabin for the next three months.

“Hello camper!” a chirpy blonde girl perked up as he pushed through the cabin doors. He briefly wondered if it was an act, to be so excited about not having a real shower and mosquotio bites for three months on end. Yet the bright white smile on her face suggested otherwise.

“Hey” Charlie muttered, not one for too much enthusiasm. Actually he was pretty sure he hadn't been excited about anything since his Junior year of high school.

“Did you just arrive?” she asked, hands reaching for a large book that Charlie figured held all the information on every worker for the entirety of the camp. It's possible the smile could be fake but someone with this much responsibility had to enjoy this life somewhat.

“Yeah, Charles Dalton. I’m a Columbia volunteer, new rowing instructor” he said finally reaching the desk, hands falling and crossing over the top. He just wanted to find a bed and lay in it, especially after that drive.

“Well welcome Charles, let me grab your orientation packet and parking pass” she grinned still as cheerful and Charlie nodded, almost scared by how happy she is.

“Just Charlie is fine” he told her and she nodded before bouncing off and finding all the things he needed to get settled in. After only a few minutes she had a small stack of papers set in front of him.

“Okay so everything you need to know you can find in here. Cabin number, work schedule, map of the resort, and anything else you can imagine. When you get to your lodge you’ll find your walkie and uniform waiting for you. Meals and everything are all inclusive for staff and we hope you have a great summer” she finished her well practiced spiel and Charlie smiled as he collected the thick packet from in front of him.

“Thanks..”

“Josie” she filled in and he nodded.

“Thanks Josie, see you around” he tells her before heading back towards the front doors and where he left his car. Using the map to find employee parking Charlie found himself unloading the two suitcases he packed specifically meant for camp and locking up the rest of his belongings in his car. It was a bit harder to find the cabins but finally he was in the upper woods, brown buildings matching the next all in various rows. A big fire burning with a few people chattering around it and Charlie quickly looked for cabin number sixteen.

Valerie had only been here an hour and already smelled like wood smoke. This wouldn't have been the case if she didn't somehow end up in a cabin with Chrissy Norwick. Valerie didn't necessarily mind the girl but she liked having a chill first day and Chrissy already had five girls compiled in the small shared cabin as she retold the stories of each date she had with Nate Fanning over the school year. She knew it would be the same thing, Nate would appear at camp and pretend Chrissy didn't exist, that was until the fall when he no longer had all of the camps options to focus on.

So Valerie sat by the fire with a few old friends she had been volunteering with since she was sixteen and listened to their much more relaxed conversation as she waited for her cabin to be much less crowded. It was then she saw a taller boy, chestnut hair falling in his eyes, as he walked the trail up into the cabins. It wasn't often new volunteers came around here so she was immediately perking up. He was handsome, in a soft way. A suitcase hung from each of his arms and she could tell from the hike and the strain off the weight, his chest was puffing out broadly. The small beads of sweat collecting at his hair line convinced her to approach him before no one else could.

"Hey, you need some help?" she curiously asked, straightening out her shirt as she appeared on the trail beside him. He jumped only lightly due to her quick appearance and she tried to hide her amusment.

"I’m fine" he muttered even though his hair was now starting to stick to his forehead from sweat.

“First rule as a staff camper, no job is too small to ask for help” and she was snatching one of the suit cases out of his hand that had been weighing him down the entire trek up the hill. Realizing she wasn’t going away anytime soon he finally took a moment to take her in. The white staff shirt laid across her shoulders and the eagle symbol stretched across the center of her chest. He admired her full hips and bright smile. Her long brunette hair tied high in a ponytail that hung in curly strands down her back. She was pretty and he was supposed to last all summer around girls like this. He prayed she wasn’t a lifeguard.

“For the record, I never asked” he told her before starting towards the cabins where she followed quickly behind.

“Well what cabin is yours then Mr. Independent?” she asked, ignoring his previous statement, and the boy sighed. He was realizing pretty quickly that most people around here were pretty cheerful and stubborn.

“Sixteen and the name is Charlie” he caved and finally she was beaming a smile back at him that made her eyes sparkle. He hated that her eyes sparkled.

“Well Charlie I’m Valerie and you’re in luck. I just so happen to be in cabin fifteen” and she was walking along and leaving him behind, going in a direction all too familiar to her. Charlie was a bit shocked by her ease but followed nonetheless as she led him to a destination he had been counting on the last five hours.

"So clearly you're new, so I'll share some wise wisdom as a camper of three years" Valerie told him, thrilled to have something to do other than stare at a campfire in the middle of the day. The June sun was already hot enough. "Never use the showers on the south end. Theyre used the least so not only do they include a variety of bugs you've never seen before but they’re also the showers that lose hot water first"

"This is not making this anymore exciting" Charlie says and the laugh that comes from Valerie surprises them both. Charlie hates the way the sound wraps around his heart and makes him content.

"If Big Al enters the bathrooms wait at least thirty minutes before going in. If you don't know who that is you'll find out fairly quickly. If it's an emergency we're surrounded by woods for a reason" and now Charlie is the one laughing which based on his attitude when they first met has Valerie fairly surprised.

"Lastly tuesday nights mystery dinner sounds fun but it's actually a mix of leftovers from the previous week so we have staff dinner here" Valerie says just as they approach cabin sixteen only to hear the girl laughs from the one beside it.

"Shouldn't you be in there giggling away?" Charlie asks as he takes his suitcase from her and sets them both on the small porch step.

"God no, no use giggling about cute boys inside when I can be out here talking to them" and much to Charlie's surprise she winks at him as if it was the most natural thing in the world. It’s so quick he's almost convinced he didn't see it.

"You seem to have it all figured out Valerie" Charlie says and she softly shrugs, glancing up at the tall trees above them. Birds chirp and in a few hours the cicadas would buzz and she'd finally be right back at home.

"I'm sure there is more I'm forgetting to share but when I remember I promise to tell you. In the mean time Charlie you can find me at cabin fifteen or the lake" she says, oddly comforted by the new guy herself. There was something nice about knowing she got to be the one to greet him here.

"Why the lake?" he curiously asks as Valerie moves to walk away and she flashes a quick grin at him, fingers gliding through her curly brown hair and Charlie nervously gulps.

"I'm a lifeguard" she informs him and for the first time for the entirety of this conversation Charlie accepts that he's screwed. Valerie was not the kind of girl you ignore despite how badly he wanted too. Now worst of all he had to spend every single day of the summer with her in tiny red bathingsuits.

"Of course you are” he says and she quickly flashes him a grin before starting back the way they came, ignoring the group of girls in her very own cabin. Charlie hates how he watches her walk away, admiring her long tan legs in her tight jean shorts. It had been ten minutes and he was already screwed.

“Shit”

Happy 35th Anniversary to DPS. This is my love letter to this film <3

Comment if you want to be added to the taglist :))

[sehtoast]

A Good Punishment is its Own Reward (Homelander x Reader Smut)

18+

Word count: 2k

Fic Directory

Summary: Homelander doesn't take too kindly to being smacked on the ass- in public, at least.

Warnings: Vaginal sex, oral sex, fingering, semi-public sex, getting weird with the web holes again, spit

Reader is written as a trans man but is kept gender neutral save for two or so gendered terms. Reader is written in the spirit of my spidersona oc

You knew not to tease.

After all, it was like dangling meat in front of a tiger that’d been starved. But, in the end, could you really complain? Once the aches had faded and he settled against you, could you really complain?

Not at all.

That’s why, as the meeting of The Seven adjourned and Homelander walked past, you took a quick swat at his ass.

The look he gave you sent a chill down your spine, tingling in your core. It wasn’t like you did it when the team would see.

“Hehe,” you chuckle. “Sorry babe, it’s just looking extra smackable today.”

He approaches you in a slow gait, hands behind his back, leather gloves creaking with the restraint he was so carefully exercising. Despite your own superpowered strength, he has you at his mercy in a fraction of a moment. A gloved hand gripping your neck, tilting your gaze up to meet his.

Those beautiful blue eyes that took you back to the clear, summer skies of your youth– that warmed you all the same.

“What, exactly, made you so bold today, hm?” John purrs, teeth bared as though he meant to threaten his prey.

You’ve nothing to say as his free hand snakes down the length of your spandex covered body, moving to press his palm against your heat.

“I could smell how fucking wet you were during the entire meeting…” Homelander murmurs in your ear, breath hot against your flesh as he blows on it. His hand remains at your neck, squeezing to punctuate his words. “Do I really work you up so much? You want me so badly that even corporate bullshit gets you soaked? So long as it’s coming out of my mouth?”

He relishes the way the emotive lenses of your mask mimic the way your eyes widen, though he finds it infinitely more delightful to utilize his x-ray vision to peer through to your reddened cheeks, the way you bite your lower lip in anticipation. You nod breathlessly, and he’s upon you immediately, tearing the mask from your head, tongue parting your lips, the heel of his palm grinding against your clit through your suit.

You moan into his mouth, hips bucking toward him for more.

“John…” you whine, and you feel his lips curl into a devilish grin.

He nibbles at your lip, and suddenly you’re being manhandled onto the conference table, his hands splaying across your upper body, thumbing at the spider emblem on your chest.

“I think you owe me, now…” He growls. “For taking without asking.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” You bite your lip, cunt clenching around nothing as his words settle deep in your core.

He stands expectantly, hands on his hips as he waits for you to pay what you owe.

Your hands are at his belt immediately, dropping the metallic article to the floor without care– for you’re far more invested in stripping his pants away. You slip your hand between the band of his red briefs, simply taking him in a hold for a moment as you wrap your arm around his neck to tug him in for a kiss.

Your tongues dance as you begin to stroke, his cock twitching in tandem with his little moans. It’s enough to drive you insane, but you’ll find your sanity once more when he’s had you in every way he wants– every way you want.

"You like that, don't you baby?" You whisper in his ear teasingly.

His hand is at your neck again, and your breath catches.

“Maybe we should put your mouth to good use,” he rasps, tongue darting out to lick the shell of your ear. “On your knees, little spider…”

You obey, hopping off the table to kneel before him as he shimmies his pants and underwear to his ankles.

“That’s it…” he groans as you grasp him, tongue darting out to swirl the bead of moisture from the head of his cock.

Your free hand strokes at his thigh, the softness of your touch mixing with the heat of your mouth as you take him in, dragging your tongue along the underside of his shaft as you swallow every inch of him. He hisses, and your pride swells.

As does your audacity.

You trail your hand along the curve of his ass, then swat it down in a sharp smack, gripping a handful of the soft flesh to knead.

Your hands are trapped in his grip in seconds, and a leather glove has you snatched by the hair, pulling your head impossibly closer until your nose is buried in the thatch of hair at the base of his cock and you’re gagging around him.

“Thought you’d be fucking cute with that, huh?” He snarls, hips snapping forward to fuck your throat. The hand in your hair jerks your head back and forth, using you to his heart’s content, groaning with each deep stroke.

“Gonna make you regret it,” he promises with a sly smile, ripping you off his cock to stare at him with your lidded eyes, drool dripping off your chin. “Look how fucking messy you are for me. Can’t get enough, can you?”

He grips his cock with the hand that previously held yours captive, and he smacks the length of it on your cheek, dragging it across your lips to paint your face with your own spit.

Your tongue darts out, desperate for his taste once more, but he pulls your head back, cock just out of reach of your wet muscle.

“Bad boys don’t get what they want. Only I get what I want.”

Suddenly, he’s dragging you up from where you knelt, hands seeking out the zippers to your suit– somehow patient enough to strip you properly. He took you in another kiss, strings of your saliva connecting you as you parted.

“Open your fucking mouth,” he commands.

So you do, and he’s using his grip in your hair to tilt your head back to spit in your mouth.

“Swallow it.”

You obey, gulping loudly, and the devious look on his face only becomes more wicked.

“Such a fucking slut,” he praises as he works your suit down your body. “Look how fucking wet you are.”

He’s right, too. As he pulls your underwear down, your arousal clings to your clothes.

You want to say something quippy, to tease him, but your thoughts melt away as his leather clad fingers swipe through your folds, dragging your wetness up to your engorged clit. Your head falls back, and he’s nibbling at your neck, licking and sucking marks onto you– claiming you.

“All for me,” he lilts, tongue dragging up the column of your neck. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” you whimper, hands gripping in his hair, tongue painting your flesh like a brush on canvas. “Yours…”

As the word leaves your mouth, his fingers sink into you, curving right away to find that spot that drives you fucking wild. His fingers squelch each time he drags them out and slams them back in, fingerfucking you with delight as he watches how your face contorts in bliss.

“Johnny!” You cry out as the pressure builds, hips bucking to chase the sensation, almost there, almost–

“N-No!” You whimper as his fingers leave you, and he’s chuckling.

“Didn’t I tell you? Bad boys don’t get what they want.” He shoves you back to lay on the table, hands gripping your wrists to thumb at your spinnerets.

You yelp at the sensation, still infinitely grateful for his fascination with your previously undiscovered erogenous zone.

“Do you deserve to cum?” Homelander asks, leaning over you with predatory eyes and mussed hair. You swear you see a flash of red in his pupils as he licks the tip of one of his sharp teeth. “Do you deserve to have me fuck you?”

You nod furiously, legs wrapping around his waist to pull him in against his own strength.

“Please…”

He brings one of your wrists to his mouth, dipping the tip of his tongue into your widened spinneret, making you howl, your back arching as the sensation shot straight down to your cunt.

“I could take you apart so fucking easily,” he proclaims proudly. “I could have you any way I want.”

Homelander rocks his hips, sliding the length of his cock up and down your slit. You can see the way his control falters for a moment, pleasure clouding his focus. His brow furrows and his expression softens, and you seize your chance.

“C'mere…” You coo.

As he leans down, you nudge your forehead against his.

“I love you so much, y’know…” Your eyes shut, and you plead through your needy haze. “I need you, baby. I need to feel you in me."

Always so brittle when it comes to affirmations of love, Homelander presses a kiss to your forehead and grips himself, the head of his cock nudging at your sopping entrance.

"Mm," you hum, leaning up to kiss him properly. "Please, Johnny. Please take care of me…"

You can practically see the nickname push him over the edge, and he sinks inside in one push. You swear you can feel him throbbing between your walls, his little moans quivering in the air.

"Damnit," he groans as he bottoms out, gritting his teeth to stave off his release. As he takes a moment, you reach for his hands, slipping the gloves off, exposing him to the world.

To you.

He moves to lean over you, peering down with something utterly carnal in his eyes as he starts to move.

His thrusts start slow, mind still addled from your declaration of love. It always was the most perfect way to pull him back to earth.

You grip at his forearms, his hands grabbing you firmly by the waist as he lets loose, pace increasing by the second until he's driving into you like a madman.

"Fuck!" you hiss, your body jostling with every thrust. Your mind hazes, and you submit to however he wants to use you– pleased that you got what you wanted.

His grip leaves your waist, slender fingers wrapping around your throat, a palm over your mouth to quiet you.

He doesn’t quite know why he stifled your noises, only that the sick sense of control he got from it brought him to the brink. To know he could control you, down to even the sounds you made, was nothing short of fucking ecstacy.

“The only thing,” he pants, “I want to hear out of that fucking mouth is my name. Do you hear me?”

You nod, eager to please him. As he lets go, you make sure the first thing you do is moan his name into the air like a prayer.

“Mmm, fuck!” He pounds into you, fingers traveling down to toy with your clit. He spits on it, using his saliva as lube to glide across that tender bud, relief coming to him as you throw your head back.

“John, oh f– I’m gonna–”

You clench around him, vision tunneling as he keeps the pace with both his hips and fingers. You cry out, each breath spent on his name as you crest higher and higher, bliss overtaking every molecule of your body.

You feel him coming deep inside of you before anything else. Before the whimpers of your own name meet your ears, before his head falls down to rest in the crook of your neck as he ruts through the waves of his orgasm. He’s warm, his breath is hot, and the cock twitching and spurting inside you is delicious.

You come down from your haze first, and you take the time to press a kiss to the side of his head.

“Heh,” you breathe a laugh. “Maybe I should smack your ass more often…”

Despite his groan, you feel him smile against your neck. “Keep it up, and you’ll get much worse.”

You pull him impossibly closer, limbs wrapped around him as his body lays limp against you. Above, Homelander finally cracks, and a lighthearted laugh leaves him. His fingers card through your hair, and he presses a kiss to your cheek.

“Babe, if that’s your threat, I’m gonna do it as soon as we stand up!”

He can hardly wait until you get the bright idea to spank him again.

[ali3nboyfriend]

I've been mulling over how to depict the fae in my own stories so how what might you suggest would be a few good ways to write them instead of making them basically just elves, like you criticized?

you sent this right before i made another post in that thread, but i'll copy-paste what i put there and add some more on/elaborate!

complete, magically enforced inability to lie. this doesn't mean they can't be deceitful! i love fae that have to be VERY careful with their choice of words; it puts a fun obstacle in place when writing them.

in that vein, inability to go back on deals or not follow through with them. if they make an agreement with someone, they have to adhere to it. this is another place where being careful with your words comes into play; some fae that do want to come out on top can promise something that sounds good, but when interpreted literally it's not very great at all for the person they're bargaining with.

strict adherence to a ruleset that does not come naturally to mortal folk, often to the point of getting the mortals they interact with in trouble with them. this can involve rules regarding hospitality, etiquette, and daily living, as well as whatever else you could come up with. perhaps the "never take food from a fae" rule isn't so much that they'll entrap you, but that accepting their hospitality means accepting something else you might not otherwise agree to. maybe you should never say "thank you" a fae, otherwise you'll owe them.

use of “glamour”. as in, the more humanoid appearance you’re seeing and interacting with isn’t what they actually look like, there’s a big monstrous beastie under there. this is one of my favorites. maybe they can look very similar to elves! ...but that's not actually what they look like. i have an OC that's like this; elven-seeming at first glance, but underneath he looks like a bipedal mixture of a stag and a barn owl. you could incorporate the idea of seeing stones with this; rocks with a hole in the center that if you peer through you can see a fae for what they really are. there is also the folklore around seeing a fae's true form when you look at them out of the corner of your eye, or the one where they never quite get their humanoid disguises right, so you can spot them if you know the tells. there's a lot of possibilities, and use of this trope makes them feel way more uncanny and alien.

embodying whatever court they’re a part of, in the sense that they are more like manifestations of the forces of nature associated with their seasons than they are people sometimes. this isn't as limiting as one might think. winter fae can be ruthless and cruel, yes, but they can also embody the feeling of togetherness winter can bring around the holidays. perhaps there's a difference between a summer fae who embodies the beginning of summer, one who embodies the dog days of summer, and one who embodies the transition into fall.

on this vein, actual attention being paid to the court system if it exists at all. if they're broken up into courts, why? are they just the seelie and unseelie courts, the seasonal courts, a combination of the two, or a different court system entirely? i'm partial to two "main" courts, seelie and unseelie, which are further broken into the seasonal courts; seelie is summer and spring, unseelie is autumn and winter. but there's a lot of ways you could do it. what do these courts mean for the identity of a given fae? what does it change about them? the issue i take w a lot of writing that uses the courts is that it doesn't use them to the fullest extent, which makes them functionally the same as human kingdoms. these aren't humans! that's why i mention them embodying their courts. they don't have to, but i think if you want to use the courts at all you should have good reason for it!

extreme! heightened! emotions! when they love someone they are MADLY in love with them! when they hate someone they are MORTAL ENEMIES! sadness becomes a deep depression, happiness becomes utter elation. it's hard for them to contain it! this has some ties to folklore and i really love it a lot; maybe the fae just don't process emotions the same way humans do. maybe they're acting completely reasonable by their standards!

not knowing or understanding the limitations mortals have. sometimes they do things out of kindness and are genuinely well-meaning but they’re so alien to mortals that they can really really hurt them with this kindness. this can be part of why the fae are seen as dangerous; even the "good" ones can and will hurt you, they just don't know they're doing it.

“fae” being an umbrella term for multiple kinds of creatures! high fae and elves and pixies and hobgoblins can all be kinds of fae! brownies are a kind of fae! there's so many things that have been called faeries over the course of history, i don't see why not take full advantage of that.

not something based strictly in folklore, but an interpretation i'm partial to: fae being the physical manifestation of the very existence of magic and/or chaos in the world. without magic, there are no fae. without fae, there is no magic. combine this with the seasonal court system, and fae become the reason why the seasons change at all. any disruption to their people could have disastrous consequences for the mortal world.

in general i recommend looking into fairy folklore and stories and seeing what interests you most, because these are just the tropes and questions that are most interesting to me! there's a lot of stuff you can do with them to differentiate them from typical depictions of elves.

[watchful-alice]

OW...My head...

My head hurts so much...

I feel in pain...Like endless pain...

I can't see like I used to...

Where is the Doctor? When you need him?

Oh? You are down here too? Well My name is Alice Love....It's nice to meet you...

Alice's info

Alice is an adult, she is the loyal and faithful follower to The Doctor.

Alice's gender is yes (They use any pronouns but mostly use She/her)

They will talk be like: "Why are you here?"

Their actions be like: (Looks around)

More of her lore is here

Boundaries!

✅️ roleplay

✅️ asks

✅️ ships

✅️ relationships (Romantic, Friendship, family, etc)

✅️ Canon characters and ocs can interact!

❌️ Proships/Darkships

❌️ Harassment/death threats/irl gore/bigotry asks/threats of any kind

Tags: W.I.P

Mod: Summer

Pronouns: Any

Basic dni: pedos, Zoophiles, Necrophilies, transphobic people, terfs/transgender exclusionary radfems, swerfs/sex worker exclusionary radfems, proshippers/darkshippers, nazis, profic, zionists, etc

Original Dividers are here and here (Credit: konatasoup & enchanthings on tumblr!)

[nyx-is-missing]

SUNSET PART 2

Or a pretty bad doctor

Clarisse La Rue x Cassandra De Young (oc! Apollo's kid)

Summary: Clarisse is going to colect her dept, by treating her wounds with a very bad doctor. Or the one when Clarisse likes to taunt people.

Warnings: that time when you actually stop to think about your own life, mentions (one) of blood, confident Clarisse (she likes to taunt pretty girls, even when they are bad doctors)

(We actually get a clarisse pov today!)

Part 1 is here!

There were exactly seven demigods in the Apollo's cabin this afternoon.

An absurdly low number for a summer everyday, but considering im early, this must be common.

I've never seen camp so empty, its feels like another reality if im being honest, nobody saw when me and Clarisse walked in togheter, nor when she walked with me to the front of my cabin, and dropped the suitcases on the grass and started to walk towards her own cabin.

"Hey Clarisse! ....thank you! I wouldnt have made it withou-" she turned her head to me

"You owe me, dont forget that."

Like she would allow me to, why children of Ares got no patience? Or like, actually willingness to be sociable? They cant act like that with everybody, can they?

This was the first time i actually got space in this cabin, as well as the first time i could pick my own bed and place all my things calmly, is this how castor and pollux live everyday? Lucky them.

I mean, i love my siblings, but we are too many to such limited space.

And as much as that does leads us to somewhat funny situations, we are still too many, with too few bathrooms and mirrors.

Being like this allowed us to breathe, and think slowly, as if a person who lived his whole life in the busy city moved to a town who was mostly farm.

And that was when i started to miss the mess my siblings made when we were all togheter, when i actually had time to stop and think.

I cant even imagine the things my grandpa is saying about me, how he must be trying to poison the family against ourselves, he does that even when the smallest things dont go his way, and right now, the whole family must think of me as if i am Queen Mary I, and they are the protestants im trying to burn alive.

I didnt go to dinner that night, nor to the campfire, i wouldnt manage to eat without feeling dizzy after, and i was sure i was not in the mood for singing that night.

I just showered, put my pajamas on, grabbed a book, layed on my bed and hoped that time ran faster.

Coming to camp earlier had its benefits, at least to me, pick the bed, be aware of any new faces earlier, train more (with people who could actually be named opponents, wich just meant they had better sense of combat than a inflatable doll from a gas station) and of course, run away from insufferable family members who i had to face for nine months, to see more insfferable family members who i'll still have to face for three months.

Funny.

I just wouldnt expect to see her there too.

She always likes to spend some days of her rich girl summer life in her family's yatch, or shopping..not that i keep track of her life, i know very little, but i do know that she likes to get to camp when its already messy, people all around, shooting arrows, swimming, painting, fighting, singing and all, but this year she was here early and with a strange look on her face.

It was just..weird.

I didnt felt right.

But what surprised me the most was she asking for my help, and being in dept with me.

She didnt even looked at me in a normal day.

I think there is something to do with her family, they look at me, almost always with a ugly face, and then they keep her away from me.

So, she speaking to me was a surprise.

But to be honest, if i hadnt saw her earlier, i wouldnt even know she was here, i mean, she didnt left her cabin all...not that i kept track of that, but still, unsual, especially for a Apollo kid, they always love to be out and about under the sun.

But then, the whole afternoon? Nothing

Dinner? Nothing

Campfire? Nothing

At night when i went to practice a bit more with my sword? Nothing

She better not have run away, because she is still in dept with me, and im going to collect it right now.

It was late, but the cabin still had a small light coming from inside.

Strange, all of the cabins had their lights out, they were sleeping.

I knocked on the door, waited and knocked again, after a few seconds a sleepy Cassandra oppened the door, rubbing her eyes and taking a few seconds to realize what was happening.

Then she looked down, and saw me holding my own arm to stop the blood.

"Already?" She looked at me again, and started to tie her hair up, it always amazed me how in every situation she was her.

If people didnt knew she was a demigodess, they would probably think she never even stepped in earth ground, that she never had to share, or suffered any problems at all, her family raised her to be little miss perfect, and little miss perfect she was, even when what she was wearing looked like it came straight out of a beach party, she made it look like designer clothes, she looked expensive, always.

"You said whenever, today is whenever too" i said, walking in when she stepped aside to give me space to enter. "Wait, where are your siblings?"

"We were only in seven today, and since the camp is empty, they are probably sleeping with their friends, or boyfriend and girlfriends." She looked around, probably for a first aid kid.

"What about you? Nobody invited little miss magazine cover for a sleepover?" She grabs a kit and sits at one bed, starring at me...oh right, i sit down by her side.

"Im not in the mood for that tonight, Clarisse"

"Based of the fact you are still fully d-"

She stomped her feet on the ground

"Do you always have to be like this? Thats why my family wont let me talk to you! Im not in the mood for jokes, for sleepovers and specially for us to keep stinging each other" she oppened a little alcohol bottle, to clean the wounds i think.

"Oh they wont let you? so you wanted to? That-AH WHY?" I screamed when she just poured the alcohol straight into the cut

"Okay that didnt hurt....a lot, youre being dramatic, also, enough of that talk" she said while cleaning my cuts with a piece of cotton. "Now, we dont have nectar or ambrosia in here, and going to the infirmary is to risky..but you have small cuts, i think this will do....dontfinditweird... please"

"Why would i find it weir-" i was cut mid sentence by her giving a small kiss in my arm, and starting to bandage me right away, though i did saw some of my cuts getting better. "Im sorry, you do that since when?"

"Its..been a time, i just never used it because, you know, going around kissing random demigod's wounds would be, weird and unhygienic" she holded a finger up, and then a second, as if counting the reasons. "But hey, you are all set, and you should go, before anyone notices the lights on"

"Hey they were on before i even came in" i got up, and so did she, gathering all the used stuff and throwing them in the bin by the side of the bed.

"True, i was reading before, and fell asleep...i guess thank you... in a certain way, if you hadnt came here they would stay on the whole night and the chance of my siblings getting caught being out of the cabin was huge.." i looked around, "The song of Achilles" was it was half open on one of the beds.

"Greek myth retelling?" I ask walking towards the door, she just hums in agreement.

"A pretty good book, you should try to read it...i dont know if you like books very much but.. yeah"

"Maybe, tell me when you finish it, ill see if im in the mood for it" i open the door and put a step outside, but before i trully left i said "You are a pretty bad doctor, you know? Not even treating all the wounds, my lips are also cut" i watched her face go from confusion to realization in a second

"Clarisse! you-"

I slammed the door.

[cas-kingdom]

White Flower

A/N: Definitely a long time coming. I've been so slow in my writing since starting university but I'm glad to finally have this one done. Hopefully you all enjoy the introduction of my OC!

Set in the aftermath of Glass Onion.

Title: White Flower

Summary: Fleur Blanc, art student and only daughter of the world's greatest detective, wants to steal the Mona Lisa.

Words: 2336

Despite the alarm and the impassive yelling of “this is a smokeless garden”, Benoit Blanc believed he quite deserved this cigarette, thank you very much. Trying was one word to describe the weekend he’d had. All-round tits up was another.

Besides. The island was pretty much a raging pit of alarms, fire, and general chaos by now. One more addition didn’t make much of a difference, and there certainly was no stopping the activation of the hydrogen fuel now.

“Oh, do shut up,” he said anyway, because it felt good, and because the first yell had made him jump and squish his cigarette between two fingers.

He reached for another and let his sunglasses fall over his eyes, squinting into the distance.

The horrifically neon pink of Birdie Jay’s sunhat stuck out like a sore thumb in the midst of the remaining participants of the weekend’s fiasco. They were all fanned out across the beach, as far apart from each other as possible, waiting impatiently for the policeboats to arrive. Ironic, really, considering how they’d arrived, each one a suck up to the next.

Benoit lit his new cigarette and shook his head with a scoff. “Megalomaniac, Janus-faced…” He muttered the words under his breath and took a puff. The alarm and impassive yelling restarted, and the second cigarette promptly joined the one on the ground.

“For the love of...”

He was owed a proper vacation after this, at the very least.

The yelling stopped abruptly with a crackle and a robotic groan. When Benoit turned, he was met with the sight of a young woman, her feet precariously placed between the gaps of the odd white sculpture that the yelling emanated from.

No longer.

After a violent snap, she held a handful of the offending wires, a look of irritation settling on her face. A flick of long hair and a moment later she tossed the wires onto dry land and followed them down into the shallow water with a quiet splash. Benoit rose a brow and fit his third cigarette neatly between smirking lips.

“Why, thank you, my darlin’.”

Fleur Blanc, twenty-year old art student and daughter of the world’s greatest detective, offered a mock bow as she stepped out of the water. She stretched out a leg and shook her foot dry as her father turned his gaze back towards the beach.

It hadn’t been his idea to bring Fleur along on this particular adventure, and he had in fact protested against it when she and that good-for-nothing roommate of his had suggested it, remembering quite well the last time his detective business had taken him on a wild ride. Alas, lockdown had turned Fleur into a firecracker and Philip had eventually boiled Benoit’s options down to “you take her with you, or I take myself out with the shotgun in the safe.” All fun and games, of course. Of course.

He couldn’t say her presence had been unappreciated. Apart from the obvious ease in her company, and the slightest spark of feeling like they were on a proper vacation, she had helped with the investigation, too. His little detective in the making, he’d always teased, though for as much as he was sure she loved the thrill of investigation, he was certain her career path would lead her straight to the arts.

That certainty was consolidated at the unusual silence coming from Fleur. When he turned, she was standing with her back to him, her eyes fixed on what remained of the Glass Onion. The structure that had once been so…not on fire generated quite the backdrop for his obviously preoccupied daughter. Her head tilted, arms crossed, feet bare and loose hair billowing behind her in the summer breeze, one would assume she was the picture of innocence.

Benoit knew better.

The moment she glanced over her shoulder, a twinkle in her eyes and the—in this case—horrifying beginning of “Dad?” on the tip of her tongue, Benoit pulled his cigarette from his mouth and pointed it at her. His own head dipped dangerously low, and his brows raised in what Fleur knew to be warning.

“No,” he said. Firm and simple. He would not deny she often found herself wrapped around his little finger, but this was one thing he’d be ridiculous to abide by.

“But—”

“My goodness, Fleur, no!”

Fleur narrowed her eyes and whipped her head back around. Benoit saw her fingers tapping rhythmically against her forearm. He remained still, waiting, ready. Because when a thought entered Fleur’s mind, she was hard-pressed to get rid of it.

With a defining nod and not a single glance back, Fleur slipped her flip-flops on and started walking with absolute intent. Benoit rushed after her. He grasped her shoulder and stopped her before she could take another step.

Fleur was ready for him. “I’m doing it,” she stated, “I’ve decided. I have to.”

“You are insane if you truly think—it’s—you are just preposterous, child!”

“But, Dad, it can’t be a crime, right? Most of it’s already destroyed!”

Benoit spluttered. He dropped the cigarette and, with a sudden distaste for the thing, squashed it under the toe of his shoe.

“Jesus, God, Satan, give me strength,” he muttered under his breath, not for the first time concerning his daughter and certainly not for the last. He grasped her by the shoulders, ensuring she couldn’t avoid his gaze, then, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “Fleur, sweetheart, you want to steal the Mona fudgin’ Lisa.”

“Rehome,” Fleur was quick to correct. “And it’ll have a better life with me! You really think Miles appreciated it as much as I will?” That was a given. “And—and only a small part, Dad, that’s all I want.” She suddenly hardened her stare, that familiar seriousness suddenly reappearing. “That’s all I need.”

The detective’s speechlessness after that closing statement could have been due to a number of things. One, because the pure gall of this girl never ceased to amaze him. Two, because something seemed to blow up behind them, a puff of smoke emanating from the top of what used to be the Onion. Three, the most likely contender, because the moment said explosion had him distracted, Fleur ducked under his hold and made her way intently towards it.

Like father, like daughter, was all he could think. And he wasn’t referencing himself.

Surprising, considering he followed after her with absolutely zero hesitation.

The Glass Onion’s majesty was long gone. The maddest of people would advise anyone and everyone to stay about a hundred feet from its flaming mess, armed with a hard-shell helmet and a fire extinguisher, just in case anything went even more wrong. Which, looking at it, was likely.

Still, as was typically—stupidly—the case, Benoit Blanc stood in the middle of it all.

One hand wrapped around his daughter’s, the other gripping the doorframe for easy escape, his wide eyes darted around the Onion. If he was any less focused on the state of his surroundings, he would have been more concerned at his daughter’s lack of concern. True, the fire had somewhat died down, and the structure itself looked less ready to cave in than it had done before, but safe was still not a word he would use to describe it.

Helen’s stunt had certainly done a number on poor Mona, but the world of aesthetes could decidedly remain relieved with the knowledge that some parts of her were untouched. Surrounded by what had once been her glass refuge, she sat still in the place she had done since Miles had obtained her. One eye was black, the other pristine. A side of her hair reflected the fire, the other had been destroyed by it. Needless to say, the majority of her was gone, and if Fleur had the time, Benoit had no doubt she’d be down on her hands and knees, collecting the ashes in a little pot and shamelessly risking her life in the process. Alas, he would sooner drag her out, kicking and screaming, than have her be here a moment longer than she apparently needed to be.

Benoit watched his daughter’s eyes as they scanned the room before landing on Mona. In less than a second, that tell-tale glint went from inquisition to pure delight. It seemed no amount of staring from outside of the case could prepare her for now. True, the painting was charred more than not, and his watchful eye did catch a spark of disappointment, but it only seemed to spur her determination in getting it safely within her grasp.

Parental instincts ablaze since the moment he’d stepped foot on the island, Benoit immediately tightened his grip on her hand and yanked her back when she made to move forward. “Hold your horses,” he said, waiting for her eyes to meet his before wildly gesturing around them. “There’s glass everywhere, Fleur, and you’re wearing flip-flops. Why would you bring flip-flops to this island and nothing else?”

“We’re on vacation!”

“You knew darn well this wasn’t a vacation!”

Fleur spluttered for a moment before pointing accusingly at his own choice of footwear. “Like you and your boat shoes can do any better.”

Benoit gasped. Audibly. “These have hard, glass-proof soles, I’ll thank you to notice.”

He wasn’t quite sure what it was that spurred him to his next decision. Perhaps it was the urgency of the situation. Or the very distant, but ever-closer, sound of sirens. Or, maybe, it was the pure eagerness of his daughter; eagerness of which had always softened his heart, no matter the circumstances.

Whichever it was, he tried not to think about the guilt that would remain on his conscience for the rest of his life as he turned and bent over slightly, motioning with his hands.

“Get on my back,” he said hurriedly. When Fleur stalled, shock settling quickly on her face, he motioned again. “Come, child, we haven’t got long.”

And, with that, Fleur hopped on her father’s back with as much excitement as a child. Benoit gripped her legs, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning her chin on his shoulder, the biggest of grins adorning her lips.

“Look at you, Dad,” she said as he began walking, stepping carefully over large shards of glass.

“We are not to tell your father,” was his only response to her obvious insinuation that he was becoming rebellious in his old age.

“Might be a little difficult when we come home with the Mona Lisa. Ooh! Why don’t we take the Porsche home too? Just the steering wheel?”

Benoit uttered a silent apology to da Vinci.

“Do you see these grey hairs?” he said. “You are the cause.”

Needless to say, through no innate conformism, Fleur’s inner connoisseur had won over her desire to keep a piece of the Mona Lisa in her cardholder. The moment the police had finished detailing the basics of the weekend’s mess with her father and struck up the sensitive question of the possibility of either of them having seen the Mona Lisa’s remainders at all during the night—Benoit believed it was their imploring “the Louvre are simply desperate to get it back” that had swayed her—Fleur had produced the scraps she’d been able to save from her pocket. Handing them over with only the tiniest hint of reluctance, she’d smiled at the gratefulness from the police and watched them go with the bit of longing she could allow herself.

Chuckling softly, Benoit wrapped an arm around her and drew her into his side, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Well, darlin’,” he said, “I’m very proud of you, if it counts for something.”

Fleur breathed a deep sigh and pressed her lips in a thin smile. “It does. At least I cay say I’ve touched her, right, Dad?”

“Oh, absolutely. That’s more than most people can say, after all.”

The police were wrapping up now, gently guiding the exhausted party members onto a boat—one in particular in aptly placed handcuffs. The island itself would take mountains of work to be habitable again, he’d heard a firefighter voice in passing, and for a moment he wondered if Derol had made it onto the boat. After brief consideration, he decided Derol was probably better off here than America.

Benoit pushed his sunglasses down and steered himself and his daughter in the direction of the shore. He didn’t quite enjoy the idea of sharing a boat ride with previously-dubbed megalomaniac, Janus-faced…people, but alas, after today he would no longer experience the displeasure of seeing them again. Though, he would be glad for Helen to attend a few of his dinner parties when the pandemic allowed.

Fleur reached up to grasp her father’s hand at her shoulder as they walked slowly, stepping carefully around anything glinting in the sand. Then, quietly, “Where’re you gonna put your steering wheel?”

Ah. Benoit instinctively glanced down at the duffel bag in his free hand. True, it was heavier than it had been when he’d first arrived on the island, but he had told his daughter that he’d be much appreciated if she didn’t remind him of his rebelliousness at every given moment. Which she had.

“I’m going to lock it away in a safe, so it’s never found, and I’m never arrested for thieving,” he said, finality embedded in his tone. If anyone ever asked: no, he had not stolen the steering wheel of the Porsche 918 Spyder’s wreckage. No, he did not have it in his duffel bag, blanketed by his clothes and second pair of boat shoes. And, no, once it entered the safe he would never look at it again. Except on birthdays. And maybe Christmasses.

He couldn’t say he regretted it.

But he did regret not regretting it.

“And may I just reiterate,” he said, leaning closer towards her, “your father does not need to know a thing.”

Knives Out Masterpost

[gascon-en-exil]

Fire Emblem Heroes: 2024 Year in Review

Now that we've gotten the trailer for the year's last new unit, I wanted to take some time to look back on the additions to FEH's roster in 2024. Rather than focusing on the ever-increasing deluge of powercreep, I'll instead be tallying up how each of the contributing games performed in Heroes appearances this year and using that information to make observations on trends in the mobile game. I keep spreadsheets of this stuff, because reasons.

Note that I'll be counting units as FEH itself does - so the backpack characters in Duo/Harmonic units aren't factored in, and characters who appear in multiple titles will be grouped with whichever game they're listed under in the catalogue.

The Year of Engage

Even in spite of its disappointing performance in the year's Choose Your Legends, FE17 took the prize for the game with the most number of new additions to the roster in 2024, at 27. This isn't the highest end-of-year total ever - Houses hit 31 in 2021, and Fates (48), Awakening (36), and even Archanea (30) surpassed that in FEH's launch year - but that's nonetheless an impressive showing. This number encompassed two New Heroes banners, appearances on multiple seasonal banners as well as the Fallen banner, a Legendary (m!Alear), and 2024's sole non-FEH Mythic (Lumera).

Now that all the major non-DLC characters are in Heroes, I expect that Engage will be quietly shuffled down to getting just one New Heroes banner per year from here on out. There are still some big ticket options left to add - base Yunaka and Goldmary, most notably - but IS isn't going to want to race through those too quickly especially with no new games currently on the horizon. Engage is doing very well with regular seasonal appearances though, and with the DLC taken into account it could easily supply literal years' worth of Fallen units, so unlike just about every other mainline game it's still got plenty of options. Most notably it appears to be slowly taking over Houses's previously solid dominance of the summer and winter banners.

This isn't even mentioning the Emblem units, which are counted for their respective games but nonetheless owe credit to Engage as the first ever game to introduce a distinct unit type. Emblems have saved the flagging prospects of the end-of-month 8% banners, providing an excuse for broken alts of already popular characters and filling in for the greatly-depleted mainline options for Legendary and Mythic units. The only new Legendaries this year were male Avatars - Alear, Corrin, and Shez - and as mentioned only one of 2024's Mythics didn't come from FEH itself, so you know they're getting to the bottom of the barrel. Also, Emblems Celica and Sigurd just so happen to be the sole additions from their respective games this year...which is disappointing, but not terribly surprising. At the rate IS is going it'll be late 2026 before they even have to consider adding DLC Emblems or "backpack" Emblems (ex. Ephraim), much less having to come up with anything genuinely original. Although they've got plenty of that going on as well...

Gacha Waifus Galore (Also Men Sometimes)

Second place this year went to Heroes's own characters, adding 24 new units. FEH has been gradually subsidizing more and more of its roster with its OCs, with each year adding more reasons to showcase them whenever possible. Each main story book now brings with it multiple new characters that predominantly take up Mythic slots, there are the Tempest Trial stories bringing in a new type of premium alt every year, around half of the year's New Heroes banners get supplemented with an OC, and certain seasonal themes like New Year's and summer are all but guaranteed to feature Heroes units. FEH units actually had an even wider spread in 2024 than Engage, appearing in every month of the year except February.

Perhaps the most noteworthy new Heroes character this year was Eikþyrnir - arguably the closest we've ever gotten to a straightforward male fanservice character, even if he still pales in comparison to the likes of most FEH waifus like the notoriously censored-on-YouTube Mythic Loki also released this year. December brought further surprises on that score, with the bara deer guy getting a seasonal alt less than half a year after his initial release (a Tempest Trial reward, granted, but it's still something) and, even more shockingly, the first ever male new book character unless you count Alfonse for Book I. Rune may be a prepubescent boy obviously voiced by a woman, but...baby steps, I guess. IS still sucks at male fanservice, just to be clear, but at least it's a tiny bit of variety.

Of course, as the mainline games' available rosters continue to dwindle and as IS continues to drag its feet on announcing any new games, they're naturally going to rely on FEH OCs more and more. The other games have a fixed number of fanservice options, but Heroes waifus are theoretically infinite in number.

The Old Titans, Neck and Neck

Tied at a distant third were Awakening and Three Houses/Hopes, at 13 new units apiece, with Fates just behind them at 12. Despite the similar totals, each of these three formerly overrepresented games came out of 2024 in a very different position:

With the addition of summer Vaike, FE13 is the first game in the series to have its entire playable roster available in FEH in some form. That naturally bodes ill for its New Heroes prospects, but between Vaike, Kellam, Noire, and assorted premium alts IS should still be able to squeeze out two or three more over the coming years. Of these three games Awakening is the one up for a reappearance the soonest, so I'd expect some real blood-from-a-stone shenanigans sometime in the first half of 2025. On an unrelated but quite ridiculous note, Chrom showed up as a Duo backpack twice this year, once for child f!Robin and once for ninja Lucina. The Awakening child banner was also notable as the first time that seasonal theme was given to a modern game, so anticipate more of those in the future.

Fates hit 150 units in 2024, solidifying its spot at the top of the FEH heap yet again. Its roster is by far the largest of these three games and is in a sense the largest of any mainline game (Radiant Dawn and New Mystery are bigger, but each of them shares a significant number of characters with another game), so it can field a fair number of new offerings even after all this time. Since FE14 is one of several games that typically alternates generations, look out for a Gen 2 banner in the middle of 2025 sporting Sophie and/or Mitama along with a premium alt and a random guy or two. Fates doesn't have much to worry about, all things considered.

Controversially, 2024 was Three Houses's worst year since its release. It also got 13 units when it debuted in 2019 - but bear in mind that those all came out within the last six months of that year, and that two of the units it got in 2024 were player-chosen. It's easy to understand why; after years of getting pushed hard in seasonals and multiple years of double New Heroes banners, Fódlan has very little left to give. In terms of base units it's just the unpopular half of the Golden Deer plus various non-student characters, and of those only Leonie, Manuela, and (if we care to count her) Houses Anna are female. Of course there will be premium units - I fully expect we'll get lazy Hopes alts of the house leaders at some point - and the occasional smattering of seasonal alts that haven't been done yet, but the pickings are getting increasingly slim. Also worth noting is that Houses last got a New Heroes banner in October, so it's possible that its next one may get bumped back to 2026. The scandal!

Tellius Got a Surprise Upset

In years past the Tellius games, which have substantial roster overlap between them, have alternated annual appearances. Not so in June of 2024, where we not only got a Radiant Dawn banner for the second year in a row but further got a book midpoint banner without a Heroes OC on it - but with two premium alts in Micaiah and Sothe, lest you think IS missed out on an opportunity to attract whales. Technically FE9 got only three new units this year, all of them on the Hoshidan festival seasonal in August. FE10 even poached Emblem Ike somehow!

All told, the Tellius games claimed 12 new units. Will Path of Radiance finally get a chance to shine again in 2025? Seeing as laguz characters are universally grouped in with Radiant Dawn, the game only has Calill left for female characters...along with a predictably large number of male characters most of which will be extremely lucky to ever see the light of day. FE10 has significantly more female options available (including Calill as well) even now, so how Tellius will be handled going forward seems like a tossup.

Archanea and the GBA Games Have Almost Played Out Their Hands

FE7 and FE8 came in just behind with 11, while FE6 trailed with 8 and Archanea collectively with 7. Again, it's the dearth of female units that impedes these titles the most, because those are the only ones that IS believes sells once all the plot-relevant male characters have been exhausted. Archanea has three spread across its two stories, while each of the GBA games went into 2024 with only a single female unit left. Binding Blade and Sacred Stones held theirs (Elen and Ismaire, respectively), but Blazing Blade turned Vaida into a Grand Hero Battle unit of all things presumably because she's too butch to be a target for whales.

At least the structure of future New Heroes banners for all these games is fairly clear: counterbalance the random male units almost no one cares about with Heroes OCs and premium alts, most of which can be busty waifus. Archanea will come up in the order by the summer, but it'll probably be a while before we see the GBA games again. At least Sacred Stones remained a seasonal darling even after blowing through its entire popular roster over successive summer banners, taking 2024's Valentine's banner and in general showing no signs of slowing down with relentlessly pushing alts for the same half dozen units over and over and over and...

IS Remembered that Thracia Exists!

It's a testament to how used to disappointment Jugdral fans are that I'm still satisfied by the setting's turnout in 2024. FE5 got its first New Heroes banner in nearly two years last January, which still delights me just because it means that IS hasn't completely forgotten about the game. Good thing too, because on account of being chronically neglected Thracia and to a lesser extent Genealogy are relatively well-positioned with new unit options. FE5 still has six unused female characters!

I fully expect not to see Thracia in 2025, but Genealogy is up for a New Heroes banner soon - probably Gen 1, given alternating patterns. Thus there's little chance of my underrated fave Diarmuid making an appearance next year, but one solid showing from FE4 would be enough for me. (Also a few seasonal units wouldn't kill them?)

So there you have it. Most games not named Thracia or Engage are running on fumes, but between the handful of remaining gaps in the roster and the ever-present Heroes OCs I have every confidence that IS will be able to soldier on through at least one more year without a new FE release. After that...I'd imagine things will start getting dicey.

[oh-no-another-idea]

OC in Fifteen

Thanks so much for the tags, @k--havok, @mysticstarlightduck and @duckingwriting! Filling this one out for Michael Bradley from Bent Nails <3

Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

“I don’t think you’d be Nick Mitchell with the ability to poach an egg,” Michael said.

“You’re the one who actually won’t shut up about boobs,” he muttered, and then caught a glimpse of his face in the rearview mirror and blushed.

“If you’re gonna stand there and be annoying, you can help me break these [cabinets] down.”

“I thought we agreed to peacefully coexist for the benefit of the rest of the household,” he said sternly. “I thought you were going to leave me alone.”

“I’m not into sports,” Michael said, appalled, turning on the ignition. “Doesn’t mean we can’t watch. Hell, all sports are is trying to grab the ball or trying to get it the hell away from you. The rest is all chuff.”

“I was angry. It was the only weapon I had. My mother—my mother made him promise to take me in, when she died. Neither of us much liked the idea of disappointing her.”

Sutton looked at Michael. Michael looked at Sutton. “You are going to owe me for the rest of your life,” he whispered.

“You know that feeling?” he bullshitted, “When it’s late in the summer and the sunlight turns everything golden and time doesn’t really make much sense anymore?”

“Is this safe?”

“I can find work anywhere. I can live any way, where the sky is wide and nothing and nobody has any strings tied to me. I’ll be free.”

“I don’t think she saw your lack of shoes, if that’s what you’re referring to.”

“You’re passing through,” Michael accused. “You’ve just got this job to finish and then you’re hitting the road. This is nothing to you; a blip in time, just one summer in the grand scheme of your life.”

“Wow,” Michael deadpanned. “If I ever want a bullet hole themed kitchen, I’ll be hiring you, Sutton.”

"Yeah, well, it's not your dad that's dead."

“Uh, milk would be great,” Michael said.

Sigh. He's so dear to me :) I'll pass along no pressure tags to @author-a-holmes @vsnotresponding @winterandwords @eccaiia @charlesjosephwrites and anyone and everyone else who sees this!

[someonexsomeone]

Death is Easy, Afterlife is Harder

Title: Death is Easy, Afterlife is Harder, Chapter 1: Esme's New House is Haunted

Author: SomeonexSomeone

Word Count: 4.5k

Pairing: Edward Cullen x Ghost!OC

Summary: Edward was starting to give up on the idea of love. Well, maybe not the idea itself, since he was surrounded by it all the time, but maybe more the idea that it would ever happen to him. He was still working through some complicated vampire feelings, his family was trying to get things back in order after a vampire mishap, not to mention they had to start all over in a new town again. So, when Esme rounds up the family to try and renovate a new house over the summer, what could he do other than go along with it? It was better than rotting away in his sea of lonely thoughts.

But, when his seemingly boring summer gets turned on his head, and he has the closest thing he can have to a human heart attack while meeting this strange new woman, he starts to realize maybe the world isn't as black and white as he thought.

Or; who better for a vampire to fall in love with than an undying ghost?

Warnings: Discussion of depression + death + legacy, downplaying murder

Authors Note: hello hello!! i'm sorry ive been away for so long, but I've actually been uploading this story over on AO3 for the past couple months and totally forgot to post it here. i'm really debating whether ill post all chapters here, since as far as ive planned this will be 50-60 chapters, so we'll see! otherwise you can always find it on AO3 or FF.NET. thank you for reading!

It was a privilege to live a whole life, Edward mused, gently folding another starch-stiff shirt, the cloth miraculously clean despite its many years being hidden away in this dusty attic. 

To be born, to grow, to run freely, to be burdened, to fall in love, to die. It was a privilege to have and lose and find and long and all things that make the soul feel like a tangible thing rather than a concept, some far-off idea that has been written and studied for years but has no real definition. It’s something that’s easy to forget. Those integral parts of life that make it worth living, or even just existing, blend into the everyday. To have a body and be in the world and struggle to understand it; those are what constitute a life.

Some humans believe that their life is composed of the various parts that make up the whole, parts that feel so vastly different that it’s almost like they were a completely different person. And who says they weren’t? A parent was once a child, a worker once carefree, a body once a cell. All are composed as a whole, but unique on their own. The thoughts that once consumed your entire life suddenly mean nothing at all. A person, once your entire life, becomes nothing but a memory. A decision made 10 years apart is filled with the knowledge and wisdom collected in between that didn’t exist before, so the outcome will always be different. 

To a vampire, one moment changed everything. Unlike the common human experience, the change blends so seamlessly into every single moment, every day, every year, every decision that it goes unnoticed until one trigger that causes a moment of reflection. To a vampire, that change is a blip in its life, but the difference is night and day. To go from one day being so afraid of death it drives you every decision, to all at once becoming death itself…

It feels unexplainable, no matter how many words you learn.

That struggle of how many different lives a human leads, those multiple that make up the whole, suddenly takes on new meaning. You were not what you once were, and yet, you will always be the same. To live so many years, to know that eternity is waiting, to not have the innate fear of living that most people do. What is the point of working to get better at something if there is no pressure to get it done? What is the point of surviving if the days endlessly bleed into each other until it feels like one never-ending film, an onlooker to your own life that should fill you with all of those wonderful mishmash emotions that somehow make meaning that only end up feeling forced or faked? Life is a constant existence of opposition.

At least, that was the only way Edward was able to think about it,

It was easy to fill those endless days at the beginning. At first, it was learning to control his most basic instincts, feeling more animal than human by knowing nothing but hunger and how to satiate it. While difficult, it was easier with the help of a devoted Father, something he only remembers vaguely craving in his past life, but Carlisle was a kind and patient teacher. It took many years, but slowly he was able to trade his nightly forest walks for afternoon city strolls, basking in the pockets of silence between crowds. An introduction of Mother returned him to his early years, craving her endless attention and spending as much time with her as possible, practically glued to her hip. Both son and teacher, Edward remembers fondly the first time they were able to sit at the park, hiding under the shade of the tree to lounge like the normal families around them. Esme had never looked happier. 

A “teenage crisis”, as his Mother calls it, a dark period of his life, that changed the course of his existence into a neverending spiral of self-loathing. It was easy to ride the wave of dulled distance that his vampire life brought him, to hide behind those emotions to justify his own actions, despite their now glaringly obvious atrocities. Sometimes he wishes he had those feelings again, just for a little while, just to break up the new dull that replaced the old.

 Anything, he sometimes thought, anything was better than apathy. 

It was now in that aftermath that he lived his timeless life. Try as he might to fill his life with something other than dullness, it never lasted long. 

He had to admit to loving the opportunities presented to him with these new hours. He was able to go back to school, relearn the things that slowly disappeared from his memory, and feel the joy of learning something new. He was able to rejoin Carlisle at the hospital again, just like old times, and actually do something to help people. He got to learn new skills and try new hobbies. He even got to lay in the sun for a whole day and not worry about dehydrating or starving or having to get up to use the bathroom to distract from the quiet serenity of nature. 

He loved the new family that found him. Esme and Carlisle guided him with a gentle hand and endless love. Two new women in his life, opposite in every way, Alice and Rosalie were like the sisters he never had, always keeping him on his toes, and annoyed him to no end. His newest brother, Jasper, grounded him while Emmett, his not-so-newest brother, pulled the rug out from under his feet, and both laughed when he made a fool out of himself. He loved them more than life itself. They gave him those precious fleeting moments of happiness, of distraction that kept him out of his own mind. Jasper placed a book in his hand, one selected from Carlisle’s suggestion, while Esme sat beside him, Alice humming quietly across the room as she worked, Emmett obnoxiously whittling next to her, while Rosalie indulged him in a boisterous argument about the newest passage he read. The family he didn’t feel he deserved, so he held onto it with all his might. 

He would do anything for his family. Anything.

Which, unfortunately, led him to help Esme with her latest project, the only one to really be doing any work at the moment. 

She was a kind Mother, probably kinder than she ought to be, what with 5 inhuman young adults running around the house. She let them have minimal chores during the school year so they could focus on school despite everyone’s insistence that they didn’t need the extra time, in exchange for every couple summers being asked to help sort out the house she was working on. It was surprising that she was keeping the tradition going, what with the abrupt change they had to do earlier this year that brought them back to a place they had stayed in less than 100 years ago. Not completely out of the ordinary, but Emmett needed time to heal, and the house was the closest that was ready to live in.

“We need some normality,” Esme mused as she planned the trip. “Well, as normal as a family like ours can. And this place was too beautiful to pass up!”

This year’s project was the furthest from their settlement yet, all the way in this sleepy town on the East Coast. Despite their return to Forks for the school year on the year prior, and the trend they’ve had for staying on the West Coast, there was something about this house that called out to Esme, so here they all were for the next week. The downstairs needed the most work, with crumbling walls and ivy growing out of every nook and cranny. Originally, there was no indicator that there was an attic, not until Emmett got a little too rough and accidentally uncovered the furniture-covered door. Straight out of an old novel, the wardrobe would have been too heavy for any normal human to move without help. The door was completely hidden behind the massive wooden case, not a hint that it was there, with a dented doorknob that suggested whoever placed the wardrobe all those years ago couldn’t care less about the state of the place. 

Esme had stepped out to grab some more spackle from the store, Alice accompanying her (claiming it was so that Esme would know exactly what brand would yield the best results even though this wasn’t the first home Esme restored and she already had a list of products she trusted). Rosalie had respectfully declined this trip, instead going to the vintage car show with Carlisle for their yearly father-daughter trip. That only left the three boys to make decisions while the usual leaders of the house were gone. 

It was moments like these that Edward really got to muse about the hilarity of his family's hierarchy. The three looked at each other, each gesturing for the other to walk up first, to make the first decision in a place none of them felt comfortable in. People? Leave that to Edward. Planning? Leave that to Jasper. Attacking? All Emmett. But knowing whether to go up a dilapidated flight of stairs into a very old-smelling attic in a home that was being restored? Well, that was out of any of their depths. 

“Are you getting any feelings?” Emmet whispered conspiratorily, his burnt orange eyes wide with the closest a vampire could have to fear. Jasper and Edward gave him a funny look. “What?! It’s a justified question.”

“I’m an empath, not an Anthropomorphist.” Emmet furrowed his brows.

“A what-?”

“It’s someone who attributes human traits, emotions, or intentions to non-human entities,” Edward replied.

“Okay, Mr.Dictionary.” Edward rolled his eyes and Emmet turned back to the blonde. “We’re vampires. You have powers. Can’t you get a feeling if it’s dangerous or not?”

“That’s just instincts. You have those.” Emmet sighed at his brother’s response.

“Not what I meant and you know it. This is a secret door, behind an old wardrobe, in an abandoned house.” He gestured wildly up the dark steps. “Use your freaky feelings tingle and tell me if it’s haunted up there or not.” Jasper and Edward shared a glance, exchanging a small smile. Edward was happy to see his brother was feeling a bit better, enough to have some of that ridiculous superstition return to his regular vocabulary. He was sure Jasper was going to include this little conversation in his text to Rosalie later, one of the many update texts she asked him to send as she spent time away from her husband when he was still recovering.

Jasper was the first to move, carefully positioning himself in front of the other two to walk up first. He bickered quietly with Emmet that there was no way for him to tell if a house was haunted on ‘feelings alone’, and that if he could he would have felt it long ago. A simple platitude, if nothing else. There was no doubt in any of their minds that there was no person upstairs, they would have heard or smelt them long ago, but even Edward could admit there was something off about this attic. Caution was always better than carelessness. Edward had to stop himself from rolling his eyes at Emmett’s internal monologue about ghosts and ghouls that resided in old houses, stepping behind Jasper, readying himself should anything strange occur, just in case.

Once upstairs, it was easy enough to see the real price of hiding away from the outside world. The downstairs was filled with evidence of squatters over the years, rotting food, and left-over knick-knacks here and there that didn’t match the time period of the peeling wallpaper, but up here, despite the heavy layer of dust, everything looked frozen in time. Mannequins with dresses still draped with pins, a rack of winter coats that were drooping on their rusted hangers, an opulent mirror with a hairline fracture in it, hidden behind a lace sheet. There were chests and boxes filled to the brim with jewelry, decor, and housewares. Furniture, both big and small, were stacked neatly on the far wall, plush chairs that had sunk into one another after being stacked for so long. There was only one window high up on the wall, no doubt the one Edward saw as he approached the house earlier that day, too far to do much more than cast colorful shapes on the floor from the stained glass. There was a familiarity in the items around the room, clothing pieces he vaguely remembered as a human, though only the oldest women in his social group still wore them. 

“You lived through this era, little bro!” Emmett cried, immediately blowing past both people in front of him to beeline to the rack of clothes. Edward wasn’t allowed a correction before Emmett’s newly returned childlike control grabbed a corset by its hook, snapping the fragile bonning of the piece into brittle sections. His sheepish look made the other two roll their eyes, though Edward did notice the wince on Jasper’s face from destroying precious history. “Uh…oops?”

“It’s like a time capsule,” Jasper commented, mimicking Emmett’s movements, though with much more care, and gently pulling a dress from the rack. The lace and beading made it look far too heavy to do any dancing in, though Edward knew from the bodice that a young woman, probably around his age, would have worn it for a ball or social gathering to impress the gentlemen in the room. Jasper’s thoughts mimicked the look of familiarity in his thoughts. “How long do you think this had been hidden away?”

“I think we’re the first creatures up here in decades,” Edward replied, following their lead to carefully open one of the many chests to reveal a stack of papers. “Take a look at this.”

The papers, though nearly crumbling apart at the edges from age, were legible enough to read. Letters, most of them, all addressed to the same man, one Mr. Dorsey Carnall. The top of the pile all seem to be from the same woman, one Mrs. Theodora Whitney, who frequently wrote about the elder man’s will, the last one being dated 1887. Both Edward and Jasper exchanged glances at the crass way the woman spoke about the man’s diseased family, demanding his will all be given to her and not some other gentleman, no other identifier other than his name, ‘Tommy’. The more they moved into the pile, the more the letters mixed with other lost names, most wondering about the man’s health and lamenting the loss of his direct family. 

“Letters that catalog this man’s last years alive, and they’re all about his sadness and his money. What a lonely life.” Jasper patted Edward’s shoulder comfortingly. Try as he might, he couldn’t stop the barrage of their thoughts from entering his mind, both equally concerned that his mood dropped so quickly.

“You know better than anyone that this box wasn’t everything.” He lived a whole life outside of these letters.

“Yeah!” Emmett, as always, was just a touch too loud for the enclosed space, echoing words around them. Come on, Eddy, don’t depress yourself. “Maybe whoever cleaned after he died just chucked everything into a box. I bet if you look around some more, you’ll find this guy lived a sweet life up until his death. No need to get all depressed for a guy you haven’t met.” Edward ignored the heavy elbow Jasper dug into his brother’s side at the comment, choosing to glare despite the relief he felt at Emmett’s continuous ability to say whatever he was thinking out loud. Makes it much easier on Edward, who spends most of his time trying to differentiate the difference between thoughts and spoken words.

“Emmett.” You’re an idiot. Edward didn’t need his mindreading to know the unspoken language of Jasper’s tone. “Didn’t Esme want you to take apart those cabinets downstairs? What are you still doing here?”

“Oh sh-” Emmett turned, nearly crashing into the door in his haste to get back downstairs. Although Esme was always a saint of patience, Emmett had already filled his quota of mess-ups for the day. If Esme returned before he managed to clear the kitchen, he knew there would be her patient little sigh of disapproval, and that hurt more to him than getting his arm ripped off. It was silent only for a moment before the two heard a crash downstairs.

“I’ll go check on him,” Jasper sighed, returning the dress carefully back onto the rack. “Are you coming?”

“If it’s alright with you, I might stay up here. These things’ll have to get organized eventually.” Edward barely spared him a glance. “Don’t think that. I’ll be fine. You’ll know before I do if things get too intense for me.” Jasper gave him a once over, asking one more time in his mind if he would truly be okay alone, before heading downstairs.

It took some effort, but Edward dislodged himself from the letters, conceding that if he continued to read them it would only hinder his mood even more. He instead moved to the other side of the room, boxes seemingly filled with more household items that lost their purpose over the years. He sorted things quietly for several hours, wrapping the precious pieces that could be donated, and setting anything else aside to be thrown away later. Esme checked in on him as soon as she returned, marveling at the pile of things that surrounded him, before leaving him to his own devices (not without a little prodding). Alice also popped by to say hello, but, as a girl who only valued old things as long as Jasper enjoyed them, she didn’t care much for the goblets Edward was sorting through and returned downstairs to help Esme finish peeling up the old wooden floor to reveal the original tile below it. 

He was both relieved and lonely. There was something peaceful in the work he was doing, taking several extra seconds to gently clean an old vase or reminisce fondly on the ceramic ashtray, but he was also starting to feel extremely isolated from the others the longer he was up there. Edward could hear the pairs as they worked, two doing genuine work while the other two changed from genuine demolition work to a game of karate chopping wall debris. 

It took a long time to get adjusted to the playful side that Emmett brought out in Jasper, but Edward always indulged them when it happened. He noticed the way he became comfier with the Cullens, noticed the way he allowed his gift to guide him more than before. No surprise he liked being around Alice the most, her infectious happy attitude must be a nice change for him, but more often than not Jasper let his leading emotion seek out the others in the house that matched him. Almost a reassurance of his own feelings, Edward mused, a confirmation that what he was feeling was correct. Emmett was open and inviting, even when he didn’t want to be, so it was easy for Jasper to get overtaken by his emotions, which, more often than not, was some form of goofiness. The life that Jasper led, both human and vampire, made plenty of patience for some tomfoolery, a chance to act like the stupid 19-year-old he should have been. And, with the guilt that has been eating Emmett up recently, it was nice to have a break, to feel a little normal, as normal as he could, at least for a little while. 

He let the thoughts of the two on the floor below him play like a song in his head, broken up only by the childlike giggle they would let out when a piece of debris exploded into fine dust. He knew Esme wouldn’t be too upset if he joined them, in fact, she would probably be overjoyed just like she always was when her kids got along. There was so little she asked for, after all. 

But he was far too comfortable to move now, and there was something…therapeutic about sorting the old pieces of jewelry, carefully tucking them into spare pieces of fabric or their appropriate boxes. This one was too rusted, barely hanging together, so he dumped it into the trash, but the one next to it only needed a good wash before it was as good as new. This one had a beautiful gem, so he ripped it out of the crumbling metal to deposit it into a small box he found, before carefully wrapping the intricate necklace that was hidden underneath. The methodic movements had him in a nice rhythm, similar to the trance he entered when he organized his music back at the house or the books in his Father’s library. Pick up, examine, wrap, toss, pack, repeat.

He moved slowly, or as slowly as a vampire did when no one was looking, tracing his hand over each piece with sharp eyes, using the little he knew about history and its many ages to see if anything was worth salvaging. He knew Jasper would throttle him if there was any historical value in any of the pieces that he tossed, so he paid extra attention to those that looked well-loved or unworn. Every new item in his hand gave him a little more space for mindless thinking, a perk of being a vampire if he was being honest, trying hard to ignore the stray thought here and there of the sadness of the old owner’s last few years. 

He stood, reaching for another jewelry box that was shoved just as carelessly as the other things, this one half hanging off an armoire. This box was similar to the others, covered in dust that swept away to reveal the complicated gold flower design. The dark blue outside still held a brilliant shine, the gold siding still looking good despite the time it’s been hiding. The inside was velvet lined, sparse save for a few earrings and a necklace that miraculously looked in good condition despite the relatively cheap material it was made out of. Silver, he knew, would have tarnished left in this musty attic for as long as the other items up there, but this was perfectly new, the pendant in an intricate frame surrounding the painting of a Victorian couple that almost looked freshly done. Edward’s finger hesitated over it, tracing the air around it. For some reason, this piece in particular caused him pause, some strange feeling surrounding it, almost like it was thrumming with life. The design was similar to something he recalled seeing only a moment ago…

His eyes raised sharply, suddenly, scanning across the room towards the painting propped up on the far wall. Though draped with a piece of velvet, a curtain of some kind, it was tossed haphazardly enough that he could make out the bottom half of a portrait. A woman, though he couldn’t tell the age from there, poised and delicate in her stiff posture. Her dress was beautiful, no doubt even more so in real life, deep blue and covered in layers of ruffles and lace. The large sleeves hung low on her shoulders, exposing her collar bones and the beautiful, ornate necklace hung around her neck. Near identical to the one that he had in his hand, but this painted woman wore it attached to a velvet collar, glimmering gold instead of the dull silver in his hand. 

A replica? He thought to himself. But why make a replica out of different materials?

His eyes slowly drifted back over to the stack of letters across the room. Though he didn’t have a single letter from the man himself, no doubt lost to time and recycled a hundred times into modern things, there were very clear indicators of the life he led, both in the words of others and the items around him. A loving wife, though not a hint of her things despite the portrait and a replica necklace, a daughter he adored more than life itself, an accident or accidents that took them both away from him. The countless different acquaintances and friends that wrote to him in his time of grief and well after. Edward tried to wrack his mind for notable events of the time, things that maybe could be the reason for those who obviously loved the man to be so far away in his time of need, and felt the hole in his being ache in sympathy. 

All alone for the last years of his life without anyone to mourn with him, to take care of him. No one to take care of his things after he passed, beyond shoving all of his possessions into the attic, never to be seen again.

He couldn’t help his eyes from focusing, eyeing the writing on pile of papers he barely made halfway through, his keen vision drifted over the words he could see. 

“Condolences…our hearts…happier place…” he murmured to himself, feeling both annoyed and emotional. He knew logically that the people in the letter were just trying to offer some comfort, a scrap of empathy for a man who presumably lost everything dear to him, but just as he felt, the words read as nothing short of empty. He knew from experience that human families were greedy (so far he had been very lucky in his second existence that his family wasn’t), he’s faux inherited to himself more than once with complications from long-distance relatives trying to get a scrap of the fortune he possessed, so the flutter of kinship deep within him wasn’t surprising to feel. He barely registered the brush of cool metal under his hand as he thought through the various ways he could organize the delicate letters to unravel the man’s life. A week they had been there, a week pulling apart the floorboards of a place this man may have been born and died in with no regard at all for who he was. And now, presented with the opportunity to learn, how could he pass that up? It was the closest thing to getting to know the man outside of a supernatural force, and as far as he was aware, there was no such thing as-

“--despite the many chances you’ve had, you continue to drift away! How is your hand close and yet so far from its surface? Lower your finger a touch and…”

There was so little that could startle a creature like him. 

Children of the Moon? Sure. Shapeshifters? Probably, but he’d never openly admit it. He hadn’t had any experiences with witches or spellcasters, though Carlisle insists they’re out there somewhere. Honestly, it was hard for even another vampire to surprise them, let alone anything remotely close to human. But here he was, startled in a way he had never experienced before, the closest he could fathom a human heart attack would feel like.

With a yelp, he stumbled back from the voice. If he were any less a creature, he would have been on the floor in shock, tripping over the mess under him in a humiliating manner.

“Oh!” His head whipped up at the delicate voice. And, there, before him, was a ghost.

______________________________________________________________

read more chapters on ao3! l masterlist  l twilight one shots

[blue-aconite]

There Will Be Blood - A Top Gun Maverick Mafia!AU

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x OC, Jake Seresin x OC

Summary: Ava Castello always knew she was going to end up marrying Bradley Bradshaw. She knew it from the moment she overheard her parents fighting in the kitchen at 3am when she was 10 years old. After that it had been set in stone and honestly, it wasn’t that bad. 

Bradley was easy on the eyes and despite the ruthless name he’d made from himself as Nick’s heir, he was always kind and polite whenever he and Ava were in the same shared space. She could think of cruller men to be betrothed to. 

She knew that their marriage would be a way for her family to get out of the debt the owed the Bradshaw family and she was fine with paying the price. She’d be safe and looked after as Bradley’s wife.

But after a whirlwind of a night, Ava ends up at the Seresin estate, the last place she should be at. The shared hatred between the Bradshaw’s and Serein’s is no secret and their constant fight for control over the city has taken many lives and years. 

After Jake saves her life that night, Ava knows she owes him a debt. And that debt might come with too high a price.

The Girl in the Creek - A Top Gun Maverick AU

Pairing: Jake Seresin x ?

Summary: Sheriff Manfred Johnson gets the call at 7am on a Sunday morning. A jogger has found a body in the woods, out by the creek. So much for his quiet morning.

It's no secret that the creek is a popular hangout for the town's teenagers. After interviewing several witnesses, who aren't much help, the sheriff department rules the incident as accidental drowning. To placate the distraught family, the creek is closed to the public to avoid further accidents.

The newspapers name the case "The Girl in the Creek" and it sticks.

Everyone says that his sister drowned, that she was drunk and fell into the creek and the people around her were too drunk to help. Everyone says it was an accident.

But Jake knows something else happened that night. He just knows it.

25 years after his sister's death, Jake decides to find out what really happened that night. He's a detective now, he's got more solved cases on the force than anyone else.

With the help of friends and family, Jake is determined to find out the truth. There's so many unanswered questions.  And the most intriguing one of all, what really happened to the girl in the creek?

In The Deep - A Top Gun Maverick Mermaid!AU

Pairing: Jake Seresin x reader

Summary: Everyone knew the stories. During the summers, it was all your town thrived on. The local legends brought a swarm of tourists each season, all of them searching for what you believed to be absolute bullshit. 

Vessels overturned in the middle of a calm day, sailors abandoning post and jumping into the water for unexplainable reasons. A faint song in the evening breeze, heard by only those meant to. Beautiful yet terrifying creatures roaming the deepest parts of the ocean. Sharp fangs and enchanting eyes, shimmering tails and a deadly song. 

Those were the stories your grandfather and father had fed you your entire life. But growing up in a coastal town with parents who all but worked on a boat all day long, you know better. You’ve never even seen anything remotely close to a resemblance of the creature, so you don’t understand how the legends fascinate anyone.

“Don’t stare at your reflection for too long, ma cherie. Or the creatures might lure you into the water, never to be seen again.” That was your grandfather’s warning each time you went out on the ocean. You’ve always scoffed and ignored it but this time it feels different. This time, his warning stays with you as you watch the clouds roll in and the waves grow bolder. What if there’s really something down there? And if there is, what is it?

Sharpest Blade - A Top Gun Maverick Hunger Games!AU

Pairing: Jake Seresin x reader

Summary: After winning the 79th Hunger Games, your life changed completely. The Capitol loved you, the people loved you. You’re the first tribute in decades from District 1 that didn’t volunteer to enter the games. 

With the 80th Games looming on the horizon, President Cain annonce that the tributes will be reaped from the existing pool of victors from each district. 

Thrown into a conflict with deadly consequences, you’re not sure who to trust. You’re paired with former victors deemed as the best of the best, forming an unlikely alliance. 

While on the outside of the arena, an uprising is brewing and your mentor is doing whatever he can to make sure you make it out alive.

Swords and Smoke - A Top Gun Maverick Royal AU

Pairing: Jake Seresin x OC

King Nicholas II and his wife Queen Carol were blessed with not one but two strong and healthy boys born within the year from each other. 

Bradley came first, a true winter child, born to follow in his father's footsteps and ascend the throne when the time was right. A true heir to his father's kingdom.

Then there was Jacob, who was happy to be second in line. None of the heavy responsibilities on his shoulder, happy to be an advisor to his older brother. He knew he one day would have to shoulder being the right hand man during his brother's rule but it never bothered him.

When their parents arrange for Bradley to wed the Princess of one of their allied kingdoms, Bradley is devastated. While he knows his duty, he's deeply in love with one of his mother's handmaidens, Natasha. 

Jacob decides to help his brother out, and offers himself to take Bradley's place. He's not the heir, but being the second born of the most powerful king in the South is quite the feat.

Jake soon realises he’s thrown into more than just an arranged marriage, suddenly caught in a deadly spiral with an outcome no one is ready for.

[glittervame]

It's shit.

This is the most random shit. Don't mind it <3

Heartbreak High x Oc! Reader, it's a teen drama you know what to expect

Pt. 2

I met Harper and Amerie when I was five years old, I had been dropped off by my mom, and my curls bounced behind me as I walked through the door being met by the sight of a girl with brown hair pointing at a picture that was on the blond girls' paper.

"What's that?" even if you weren't looking at her face you could tell that she was judging immensely, I walked up table peering over her shoulder.

"It's a crocodile" The blond blinked up at them, then frowned looking back down at her paper.

I narrowed my eyes as I tried to imagine the animal I looked at the green blob, "It's shit" being brutally honest, knuckles bumping the ones of the girl next to me in a fist bump. We both grin at each other as the blond across from us flips us off.

We've been best friends ever since.

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

Nothing could ever come between us, like three peas in a pod, we've always been each other's ride or dies.

"One, two, three!" I count off as I clutch onto both of their hands as we jump into the pool. All three of us giggle as we splash each other as much as we can.

My skin was with a permanent swimsuit tan after that summer, it didn't go away until snow started falling and it just reminded me of how much fun I have with my friend.

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

Harper and Amerie started getting super into romance, I said it was because they didn't have their own lives but they just shook me off accusing me of being a hater. Honestly, I thought it was amusing until they did it all the time.

I was trying to find myself during the time, I started experimenting with a lot of different things, currently standing at my locker with the girls I was trying to match my left eyeliner wing to my perfect right one when they started mimicking the couple across from us.

"I swear to God, Jessica, you know I'm good for it."

"If you touch her again I'll f*ckin' smash ya, ya cheatin' dog."

"No babe, I'm f*ckin'..."

"Kiss me."

When they started making kissing noises, I had to walk away.

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

"Amerie. Hello?" I snap my finger in front of her face trying to get her attention.

Harper groans, "Amerie! Stop staring at Dusty, you're obsessed."

"It's fucking weird and you look like a stalker" I add, scrolling through my Instagram feed.

"Destined" Amerie sighs, "I just don't get it" She looks at said boy longingly before I smack her on the back of her neck, "Ow!"

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

"Honey, we're home!"

I raise my head from a lap when I hear Amerie's voice carried out through the quad and blink owlishly at the girl as our eyes meet.

A snicker comes from my right as my pillow slides off the wall and walks over to the girl, "Missing your fourth witch?" He laughs.

Amerie's nose scrunches, "Piss off, Spider" she snaps.

The blond clutches his heart dramatically, falling into his best friend's arms, "Ooh!"

I watch as Dusty walks over to the girl making small talk, I walk up as the girls start giggling and walking away, not even paying any attention to the fact that they had just bumped into Quinni.

"What a pick-me bitch. Also rude" Darren companies

"Maybe they didn't see us?" Quinni questions obliviously, looking after the girls.

"Oh, please. Check the material" They gesture to themselves, "We are beautiful, exquisite jellyfish"

"Glittery, glowing jellyfish" I chime in walking up to them.

"Amithest!" Quinni pulls me into a hug and Darren gives me a one-over, "What are we doing, going back in time?" They point at my black and white outfit.

I sigh dramatically, "It's all that fits me right now" placing a hand over my heart.

"You can't sit with us!" Darren playfully shreaks, crossing their arms over their chest, turning away.

I was about to retort when something caught my eye, "Ooo, fresh blood" I said looking at the new boy up and down.

Darren's lips parted as they were about to sit something, I'll never know what it was because someone started yelling.

"Oi! There's a fully-gacked sex map in the old stairwell!"

"Out of my way, you shits" I huff as I struggle against the crowd, I shove a guy out of my path causing him to fall into his friends, whispers forming around me, I look up at the map my mouth agape in aw, "What in the kid's helpline?"

It was a map of everyone who fuck everyone, a girl's name had a little note that read 'Couldn't walk for three days' I snorted at that, "That's true" Someone chimed in pointing at it.

"Cum queen!" A guy cheers from the back

I could hear Spider reading things off of the wall, "Jenny got fisted!" he clapped a guy on the back, Jesus "Mary's a good screamer-"

"We already knew about that" I chime in and he pushes my face away from him with his hand, "Dam check out Sasha's body count" He points. Dusty's mouth is agape as he looks at it, "Oh my god, what?" I giggle at his face before turning at the sound of a commotion.

"You scissored Greta Bathgate? Before or after we broke up?"

"I don't remember."

"You don't remember?"

"I'm pretty sure we were on a break, but... Wait, Missy."

"Nah, I need space, man."

"Oh shit," I let out a gasp, I elbow Spider in the ribs as he started laughing pointing to a name on the wall, "Dude, Darren jerked you off? Nice bro, you into dudes?" He wraps an arm around Ant, "A little cheeky, huh?"

Darren sharply turns around, "Who said I'm a dude?"

"Quinni, lazy kebab," a boy said somewhere from in the crowd.

Quinni came up beside them and started talking, but Amethyst didn't hear her she couldn't hear anything over the ringing in her ears as she looked at the map, and alas she had found her name on the map.

Amethyst ─── Bisexual ⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒

                                                                ↳

                                                                                     Ant

                    Missy

[cardansriddle]

Gilded Serendipity - (tom riddle x oc)

Part 3/10: "False God"

Story summary: A summer meant to be spent in the tranquil seaside mansion of Rosier's was not supposed to sway hearts like rustling leaves. Sereia Nova was most definitely not supposed to feel drawn to Tom Riddle. Yet August had a way of weaving chaos and desire together, only to dissolve into the shadows, leaving behind a bittersweet aftermath- an ephemeral illusion of love.

(gif not mine)

PART 1 PART 2

chapter warnings: sensual themes.

A/N: took me a whileee but here is the third part!!

:☆ﾟ:☆ﾟ:☆ﾟ.

The subconscious was always a bitter thing. It liked playing wicked games with its owner, taking the things the person did not want to think about out of that pocket of forbidden thoughts and bringing it to the very front of the mind. 

Sereia was cursing her brain as she was hurriedly descending the stairs. Her mind was cruel, replaying the night before like a broken film reel, unrelenting in its vividity. She could still feel the ghost of his touch trailing illicit whispers along her skin. The shape of his lips haunted her own. 

She was going insane, and there was nothing she could do to put an end to it. With that one kiss, Tom had sunk his fangs deep into her vein, poisoning her blood with the feel of him so she would not dare forget it. Sereia had spent a good hour in the bath, scrubbing her skin raw until it was red and irritated, yet his touch remained imprinted. No amount of effort could wash away his claim.

"Merlin's beard, Ria, did you sleep at all? You look like...death." 

She huffed and shot him a sharp glare. "Not in the mood, Tony.""

"Woah, alright. Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today." He grumbled, putting his hands up as if to surrender. The witch was half-tempted to hit him, but stopped when Walburga entered the room with a sly smirk curling on her lips.

"Who woke up in your bed?" She questioned. Her eyes flicked to Sereia, and they suddenly shone with mirth. "Our Sereia here? It was about time." 

Sereia's cheeks flushed at her comment, and she helplessly looked at Antoine to say something. But before he could utter a word, Avery strutted into the room.

"What was about time?" He asked lazily, barely attempting to cover his mouth as he yawned. "Well?"

"Sereia and Antoine here. Apparently they were up to no good last night." The brunette winked cheekily, and shot her an approving smile. "I must say, dear Ria, I did not know you had it in you. Always thought you were a prude."

Sereia was sure her whole face was the same shade as the maroon wine Avery was holding in his hand. The boy stared between them for a moment, before frowning. "Salazar's spit, Antoine. I wanted to woo her this summer." He paused, as if reconsidering, and then strode towards the girl. She barely registered more people filing into the room as he leaned closer to her. "But, I assure you, should you fall into my arms, I will make you see the stars. I am much better company in bed than Antoine."

"Avery, enough." Tony warned from next to her. 

Walburga laughed. "Well, Avery, Abraxas, you owe me ten galleons. They fucked before winter." 

I buried my face in my palms. "Tony!"

"Everyone, shut it. Sereia and I most definetely did not fuck. So please, shut your mouths."

"But—"

"You misheard, Walburga. She did not sleep in my bed. We are strictly platonic."

The girl seemed to recover from her embarassed state and added. "Exactly. It's more of a he's my brother type of situation and what you all are suggesting is— it's just gross."

She lifted her chin, attempting to rid herself of the embarassment and mortification that the conversation had caused. Straightening her spine, she regarded eeryone around her. They all looked either amused or confused. When her eyes met Riddle's, she had to surpress her shudder at the intensity behind his heated gaze. She could not quite read his expression, but the displeasure was as evident as ever. Flashes of the previous night suddenly invaded her mind, and she had to avert her gaze quickly lest she blushed once more. 

Clapping his hands, and snapping the girl from her brief memory lane, Antoine drew the attention to himself. "Great, let us end this conversation now!" He questioned from beside her, and she felt the ghost of his fingers brushing against her elbow in reassurance. Her gaze subconsciously saught Riddle's, and when she saw the dark look he was shooting to where Antoine's hand was touching, the girl stepped aside. Her friend shot her a confused look, but she just shrugged. 

"Can we eat now that that's settled?" She rose an expectant brow, gesturing towards the table that had already been set and filled with food. Avery was the first to break the pregnant silence, huffing and puffing about how he was starving. Seria shared a look with Antoine before following Avery's lead and taking a seat. As she placed some fruits onto her plate, the chair beside her was pulled back and she could feel before she could see that it was Riddle. It was bizarre— the way she could simply feel the air still whenever she was in his presence. It was like the very atmosphere was telling— no— warning her that he was near, that she should brace herself to face him.

His clothed arm brushed hers as he shifted, and the girl had to resist the urge to shiver. 

"Salazar's spit, Riddle, are you not parched in those clothes?" Antoine suddenly questioned, and suddenly all eyes were on the wizard. 

"Some people have the decency not to walk around naked, Rosier. Perhaps you should take notes." Walburga muttered snidely. 

"It was the middle of the night! Am I supposed to walk in a whole three-piece suit at the crack of dawn?"

"A shirt and sleeping pants would suffice." 

"Can you cut it out? This is making me lose my appetite." Abraxas grumbled abruptly, his voice slicing through the escalating bickering. A smirk of triumph flashed across his face as the table fell into a silence. He grabbed his cutlery and digged into his breakfast aggressively. 

Sereia, feeling a lack of appetite, mechanically nibbled on assorted fruits. She tuned out Lestrange and Rosier as they began squabbling again about another matter she did not care to know. She was about to reach for her goblet when a warm breath tickled her cheek, drawing her attention.

"Had I known you'd run to Rosier to finish what I started, perhaps I would not have let you slip away so easily, little siren." Tom whispered lowly, Tom murmured, his lips grazing the curve of her ear with each syllable. The girl try as she might, could not help the shudder that ran through her body.

He noticed. Of course, he did. He never missed a thing. Yet, before he could revel in his discernment, she retorted, her voice a low hiss meant to avoid alarming the others nearby. "How dare you?" she countered, struggling to keep her voice subdued. She truly could not believe the nerve of him to imply such a thing. "I did not run to anyone. Antoine and I certainly did not spend the night together, so I'd appreciate if you refrained from implying that I'm a whore."

"I never said that." 

"You implied it."

"I did not."

"Whatever. But if we are talking about whores, why not talk about you?" She turned her head to meet his gaze squarely. "You are the resident whore of Hogwarts, perhaps second place to Avery, or maybe you just hide it better." She watched as surprise flickered across his features for a fleeting moment before he swiftly masked it, as if it had never been there at all. "I will not be a plaything, Riddle. While you may find amusement in Walburga, you will not find me so compliant," she declared, her tone firm, before redirecting her attention to the others at the table. Meanwhile, Tom studied her profile, a barely perceptible smirk tugging at his lips. She was a fiery little thing, and oh how he relished a challenge. 

Not used not having the last word, he leaned to whisper in her ear once again. "You may resist all you want, but I will have you succumb to me." he murmured, his gaze searching her face for a reaction. She responded with a smirk, but she did not deign to meet his eyes. 

"Maybe I will consider it... if you beg."

He laughed loudly at that, genuinely amused at her bravery. Everyone at the table suddenly diverted their attention towards them, disbelief flashing across their features at seeing Riddle laugh. 

"Is he—"

"Salazar's spit..."

"What's so funny?"

Tom hummed softly, a languid smile lingering on his lips as he casually draped an arm over the back of Sereia's chair. She clenched her teeth in frustration at his nearness, struggling to push aside the unwelcome flood of thoughts crowding her mind. "Miss Nova here has a good sense of humour, that is all." 

Sereia lowered her gaze, avoiding the curious stares of those around her, and brought her goblet to her lips in a feeble attempt to distract herself. 

"Sereia—"

The girl sprung from her seat with far more enthusiasm than was necessary. "Time to go for a swim!" she declared with a forced smile, her discomfort palpable, before hastily departing from the table, nearly breaking into a run as she fled the house.

Walburga's gaze shifted to Tom, flickering between the self-satisfied, lazy grin etched on his face and the intensity of his gaze fixed on the doorway through which Sereia had hastily departed through mere moments ago.

"Look at little Sereia starting to charm boys." Abraxas snorted, looking at Antoine with a mirthful smile. "You will have to work overtime to ward off the boys now, mate." 

"Shut it. I do not do anything of the sort. She is free to court whomever she likes whenever she likes." He paused, rethinking his words. "Except you all."

"Really? How about the time in third year you hexed Arnold because he kissed her on the cheek?" Avery rose a brow.

"Or the time in fourth year you petrified that git who was going on a date with her?" Malfoy added.

"Remember when—"

"Alright! Alright! So fucking be it! None of you are allowed to pursue anything romantic, sexual— especially sexual— relations with her. Off-limits!" 

"Mate, that's unfair! She's not even your sister, you can't put a ban like that!" Avery whined, rolling his eyes in a very exaggerated manner. 

"She is like my little sister in every manner except by blood."

Dahlia Greengrass pouted, looking affronted at the way the wizards were behaving. "Leave it be, everyone. Would you rather ruin your friendship with Antoine by pursuing Sereia? The entirety is Hogwarts isn't enough for you all to corrupt?" She questioned. "Leave the poor girl alone."

Riddle observed the scene unfolding with a curious glint in his eyes. 

"Thank you, Dahlia." Antoine said gratefully. "Now that everything is loud and clear, let's go join Ria before she starts wondering what took us so long." 

Everyone muttered their agreement as they stood.

"Tom, would you like to head to the library first?" Walburga asked as everyone started filing out of the room. 

Tom glanced at the witch momentarily before looking away distractedly. "I shall like to rest for a bit before rejoining the company." He did not wait for a reply before striding away in the opposite direction.

Walburga watched his retreating back, the familiar bitter taste feeling her mouth as it always did whenever he disregarded her in such a belittling manner. She begrudgingly followed after the group, glancing back one last time in hopes that Tom also would, but he had already disappeared up the stairs, and the girl heaved a sigh in disappointment. 

Her sharp gaze fixated on the distant figure, observing as the girl who managed to coax a rare laugh from Tom Riddle swam gracefully in the water. Sereia Nova had never posed a threat in her mind. Antoine's best friend had always been a sweet little thing, too pure to be around the likes of them. Though Walburga harbored fondness for the girl, her desires lay elsewhere — with Tom Riddle. 

She pondered the allure that Sereia held for Tom. Was it her innocence, her sweetness? Or was she simply another conquest in his relentless pursuit to tarnish purity? Perhaps, she mused, innocence was a challenge for him, something to be conquered and corrupted at his whim.

At least that is what Walburga told herself as she smiled bittersweetly at the younger witch.

:☆ﾟ:☆ﾟ:☆ﾟ.

"Ria." Antoine began, his tone firm, signaling to Sereia that a lecture was imminent. 

"I know what you're going to say, but it's nothing alright? I am not involved with Riddle...like that." Sereia interjected, her words rushed and defensive, preempting Antoine's anticipated disapproval.

Antoine's furrowed brow softened slightly, but skepticism still lingered in his gaze. With a resigned sigh, he conceded, "I will choose to take your word for it. But I will tell you this, Ria— my friends are all off-limits. They are the worst pick of the bunch for any girl." He paused, as if another thought had just invaded his already disturbed mind. "Actually, just do not go for any Slytherins. You can go for uh...Hufflepuff perhaps? They do not have a bad bone in their body. Be kind and all that shite, yeah? Yeah. No Gryffindorks either I suppose, they're all gits—"

"Tony!"

"What?"

"Would you like to arrange who I will be marrying too? Stop acting like my father. Fine, I will not date your friends out of my respect for you, but other than that you have no right to dictate who I can and can't date."

"But—"  Antoine began to protest, but Sereia cut him off with a firm stare.

"Dahlia!" Sereia's sharp call drew the attention of the girl, who began to swim over with a curious expression. Sereia shot a warning look at Antoine, silently telling him to behave.

"Yes, darling?" 

"Nothing. It's just an effective way of shutting him up." Sereia smirked, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

"What is?"

"Any mention of you." 

As Dahlia's cheeks flushed with a soft hue of pink, Antoine's face transformed into a vivid crimson, the color spreading like wildfire across his features. Sereia couldn't suppress a satisfied grin as she watched the effect of her diversion tactic unfold. "Well, I'll leave you be. It's time for my nap!" 

"You just woke up!"

"Nope, that was a while ago." "Nope, that was a while ago," she singsonged, her voice carrying over the gentle lapping of the waves as she began trudging out of the water, droplets cascading from her form like shimmering diamonds. Her eyes met Avery's across the distance, his grin mirroring her own playful one as he responded with a mock salute, the sun casting playful glimmers in his eyes.

As she approached the shore, she glanced over her shoulder at the call of her name, catching Abraxas's gaze, his eyes alight with something she could not decipher as he swam towards her, his sleek form slicing effortlessly through the water. His expression morphed into a sickly sweet smile as he drew nearer.

"My dear, dear Sereia," he greeted her with exaggerated warmth, his voice dripping with faux sincerity.

"What is it?" Sereia replied, her tone laced with playful anticipation, already bracing herself for his inevitable request.

"Would you be so kind and bring us a wine?"

Sereia raised an eyebrow. "Why don't you ask one of the house elves?"

"You see, I'm craving a particular one and seeing as the creatures can't read...it complicates things. Can you get me the Chateau d'Yquem?"

Sereia couldn't help but laugh at his audacity, her playful demeanor unwavering. "Does Antoine know you're drinking his most expensive reserves dry?" she retorted, her tone teasing

Abraxas replied with a casual shrug, his smile unapologetic. "He encourages it"

Sereia rolled her eyes. "Alright. But know that you are very annoying." She conceded, her words accompanied by a playful splash in his direction.

"Thank you, Sereia," Abraxas replied, his sweet smile bordering on saccharine as he watched her depart, a twinkle of mischief gleaming in his eyes. Sereia narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously before turning on her heel and heading out of the water. She quickly slipped on her sheer beach cover over her wet swimsuit, debating whether to change into dry clothes or return to the water after fulfilling Abraxas' request. 

She hummed a random melody as she walked away from the private beach and slipped into the garden that lead to the winery, running her hands through her wet hair and slicking it back. 

She trekked the familiar path through the greenery, each step accompanied by the gentle rustle of leaves in the warm breeze. The summer sun cast golden rays that danced across her skin, warming her with its tender caress. As she neared the fountain, its marble basin shimmered in the sunlight and the girl resisted the urge to dip her fingers into the cool water. 

"Out for a stroll, little siren?" A familiar voice, smooth as silk and laced with a taunting edge, shattered the serenity of her surroundings. 

Her movements stilled, her senses alert to the presence behind her. She hesitated to turn, wary of facing the figure who she had been trying to cast out of her mind. She knew as soon as she met his eyes the thoughts of yesterday's kiss would come back to haunt her once again—or the bold teasing she had unabashedly engaged in during breakfast.

With a steadying breath, she shut her eyes, grappling with the urge to flee or confront him. Before she could decide, a warm breath ghosted over her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. Tom had drawn closer, his proximity suffusing her with a mixture of apprehension and something she dared not name.

"Or have you come to see me beg?" He murmured into her ear. 

Suppressing the rising panic in her chest, she attempted to step away, only to find his hand firmly encircling her waist, anchoring her in place. Her breath caught in her throat as his touch ignited a flurry of conflicting emotions within her. Her gaze dropped to the hand sliding further until his entire arm covered her stomach. 

"Unhand me, Riddle. I am just going to the winery." Sereia tried to protest against his advances, her voice twinged with defiance that wavered due to his proximity.

"Are you now?" He asked, and even though she could not see him, she could feel the amused smirk that was no doubt on his face. 

"Yea—Yes. I am expected to return." She insisted.

Tom hummed, a low, tantalizing sound that sent a tremor through her core. "What a shame," he murmured, his breath warm against her skin. Just as she thought he was going to let her go, he abruptly spun her around to face him. Caught off guard, she stumbled, her heart pounding erratically as she braced her hands against his chest lest she crashed into him. "You will not be going back anytime soon."

"What?"

"Can't have you running to Rosier to finish what I started. That would make me unseemly would it not?"

"Riddle, what are you say—"

"It would create the impression that I leave a lady unsatisfied. Which is insulting." His lips brushed hers with every syllable, and Sereia was finding it harder by the second to resist the temptation of him. She desperately willed herself to push him away and leave before the situation would escalate any further. But she was immobilised. He had her right where he wanted, and her traitorous body was craving him. Any further protest was cut short as his lips captured hers in a searing kiss and she found it bothersome how she did not hesitate to kiss him back. 

His lips moved with a fervent urgency, coaxing a response from her that she couldn't deny. Each brush of his mouth against hers sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her, erasing whatever had remnants of rational thought. 

Her hands moved on their own accord, sliding over his chest, collarbones, and moving up to tangle themselves in his dark hair. He groaned as she tugged at his locks and the world around her fell away at the guttural sound. His kiss was a tempest, fierce and consuming, igniting a fire within her that blazed with undeniable fervor. She yielded to him, her senses overwhelmed by the heady rush of his touch, every nerve in her body electrified.

His hand moved to the hem of sheer cover dress, fingers brushing against her inner thighs before bunching up the fabric and tugging it upwards. Tom stepped towards her, forcing her to blindly walk backwards until she felt marble digging into her back. He broke away from the kiss to momentarily lift her to sit on the edge of the fountain. 

Sereia suppressed a whine at the loss of contact, but a loud moan escaped her throat when his lips fell to the hollow of her throat and sucked, no doubt leaving a bruise with his ministrations. She should have told him to stop— or at the very least not mark her up for all to see, but she found she did not care. She wanted—no— needed more of him. 

Her fingers dropped to the buttons of his shirt, fumbling, trying to pull them open. She had only gotten half of them undone when he grabbed her wrists. "No." He panted. "This time I will make you beg. We can save that for next time."

Sereia was confused, but was quick to retort. "What makes you think there is going to be a next time?" She asked through laboured breaths, dazed eyes roving over his dilated pupils and his swollen lips. For the first time ever, he looked like a mess, and Sereia could not get enough of the sight. 

Tom only smirked in response, his fingers going under her cover to pull at the strings of her bikini bottoms. She trembled beneath his touch, her pulse racing with a heady mix of anticipation and desire. 

"Because I am going to make you beg for a next time."

Sereia's jaw dropped when he sunk to his knees, his eyes ablaze with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. 

:☆ﾟ:☆ﾟ:☆ﾟ.