#they give(or will give) one another something richer then anything they have experienced

[hollownest-whore]

I had brainrot thoughts so I wrote abt some gibberish on the Herrah x Lurien au thing (sorry lol)

Lurien craves the PaleKing in ways that cannot simply be physical, it is transcendent feverish obsession it's pure infatuation with the power and grandeur of a being so unlike himself. The allure is where PK is so unlike him, and doesn't see him as much more then a follower, he is a follower. He isn't anymore obsessed then the kingsmoulds made with the express purpose to follow his every order or the white palace servants who would press their heads to the floor without being asked.

AND THAT'S WHY I LOOOOVE the subversion of Lurien becoming entangled with another bug! If you get me??? For Herrah and Lurien it is about that sense of deviation, I know he wouldn't fucking do that, and HE knows better then to do that. But for that small momment, when Herrah asks for just a night he gives into that buried sense of self. Not that he even acknowledges or cares about this repression, simply that he let's himself do anything other then dutifully serve his king (mostly for the fact he and Herrah are 'friends' and positive relations assist PK anyways). And during that one night he finds something terrifying within himself, outside of the constant comfort knowing what and who he was made for. Instead of feeling self assured, there deep deep down are cravings outside of PK. Ooooh it makes me giggle and kick my feet!!!! WAIITEEER more unwilling self discovery PLEEEAAASE!!!!!!!

In the AU both Lurien and Herrah are consistently transactional, Herrah arrives to the City of Tears for the PaleKing to mull over her request, waits it out. Hooks up with Lurien and leaves until PK reconsidered the next cycle or so. Something something Lurien watching everything while ignorant of himself, theres the themes of Herrah being beastly and The most demanding of the Dreamers in the eyes of the people. But understood by Lurien who sees her struggle personally along with Monomon. Don't get me talking about Monomon in this ouuugh they are IN MY HEAD GET IT OOOOUT I love the idea so muuuuch I'm not even making a point at the end of this ramble its just AUUUUUUUGH I LIKE THE DREAMERS ALOT PLEASE PLEASE I need to write a fic before I blowup

[guineverist]

so. this is my first time doing anything in this fandom. i wrote a small 2k carobekah friendship/light slash fic last october but that was entirely different from what i'm doing here, which is 10k after 2 chapters. i'm not the most experienced writer either so i'm sure this is a little rough but i'm here anyway!

i've already posted the first chapter and it's an invisible life of addie larue fusion, which for those who don't know is about a girl who makes a deal with a devil/demon/creature/something that's never fully explained for "freedom" which ends up being immortality that comes with a side of no one ever remembering her, except who she made the bargain with. i think you can see where i'm going with this! it's not canon divergent, but it's very much not ah/au either

a lot of background for a snippet of a wip ik but i felt like it was all pretty important! so here's the start of my favorite scene from ch2 which i think shows the general vibe of the story pretty well.

.

Stealing from wealthy men was not the life that Caroline had planned for herself when she first dreamed of exploring the world. She saw visions of beautiful art, delicate dresses, and true romance, but that dream was crushed the second her father looked at her without recognition in his eyes. And even more so with every day that passed.

Instead, she started finding men with too much coin and too little sense to give a forced donation to her cause. Figuring out the exact boundaries of her curse was difficult work, and mistakes were dangerous, but eventually she discovered what strings to pull to get a desired result without technically leaving a mark on the world.

Directly poisoning a man's drink was impossible. By the time any sip from a poisoned cup was taken, her effect would have already been erased. Placing a sedative in a bottle of wine, however, and letting the man pour himself a glass remained within the boundaries of her curse. He made his own choice. She merely guided him toward it.

It would be a long time until she learned the intricacies of what she agreed to in that forest, but each hard-fought step toward mastery was a rewarding practice.

She was spending the one-year anniversary of her deal with the devil in an inn, pretending to be interested in the adventures of yet another man of means. All the men shared the same stories, activities they participated in to stand out did just the opposite, so she felt comfortable nodding in the right places as her mind was on the traveling exhibition that had come to Paris the week before.

Pieces of art from around the world had been stationed on a Parisian street for any passerby to look at. She was unable to focus on any one kind of art, constantly distracted by new things from new places. The Italian art created by artists from Florence, Siena, and Rome and metalwork from other cities in France ended up being her favorites, but even then she could not keep her eyes away from everything else.

Her attention turned back to the man, now deep in his cups. He introduced himself earlier in the night, but she did not pay enough mind to recall it. He was not far off from losing consciousness, and Caroline intended on seeing the exhibit one more time before it left for its next stop in Reims. She hoped she could find or buy a memento to remember it by.

When the man finally fell asleep, Caroline exited the inn room significantly richer. She stood outside the room for a moment and leaned back against the door. It was late enough that very few people would be wandering the hallways, and even fewer would take time to look at a single girl. 

She took the sedative out of her pocket and looked at it. She was spending the nights at a noble family's residence while the family vacationed through some part of the countryside. She had used the lady of the house's name to acquire a dress once. It only felt right that she made use of the house when no one was around to take offense. Trespassing would be the legal term, but it was hardly as though she was at risk of being prosecuted. There was a large part of her that wanted to make use of the sedative on herself as a way of getting the accursed anniversary over with, but the grogginess she felt in the morning afterward was enough to make her consider more carefully.

She had almost finished calculating the amount she'd need to take to be able to get to bed safely while still skipping as much of the night as possible when something in the air changed. It got a shade colder, as if something started drawing out the heat.

Caroline put the sedative in her pocket as she felt a presence at her back and, even after a year of silence, knew exactly who, or what, was there. The first few weeks of her new life were spent cursing the deal her past self had made and the demon who she had made it with.

It was odd, she thought, to be so aware of something she had only come across once. To be so disoriented before a conversation– a confrontation, surely, even starts.

[hamsterclaw]

Gemini (Part 2)

You and your twin brother Yoongi are heirs to the Min empire, richer than Croesus. Yoongi's set to take over the company, but you're not sure where your niche is. And then you meet Jimin.

Pairing: Jimin x F!reader as the romantic pairing, a hell of a lot of Yoongi and another Jungkook cameo.

Rating: 18+

Genre: Non-idol AU, smut

Word count: 5.8k

Warnings: Explicit sex, swearing

Series Masterlist

Part 1

Part 2

Yoongi was fourteen when he realised that there was a difference between the way you were treated and the way he was treated.

He’d been at tennis club, practicing his serve with you all afternoon, training for the upcoming tournament. He’d stopped for a drink break and a couple of other kids had stopped by the water fountain.

‘That’s Y/N,’ said one of the boys, pointing.

‘She’s hot,’ said the other boy, with a pubertally fuelled enthusiasm.

‘She’s good at tennis, but she’s a tampon.’

You’d come running up to Yoongi just in time to hear the end of the sentence.

You’d looked at Yoongi, a little confused. ‘Ready to start again?’

‘Yeah,’ Yoongi says. He glares at the two boys and heads back to the court with you.

It’s only after, when Mr Lee’s driving you both home, that you turn to him.

‘Did those boys call me a tampon?’ you ask.

Yoongi hates lying to you. ‘Yeah,’ he says, hoping you’ll drop it.

You’re quiet. ‘Do you know what it means?’ you ask.

Yoongi looks at his nails. ‘Nope,’ he says, still hoping you’ll drop it, hoping you don’t know that those boys were calling you a…

‘Stuck up cunt,’ you say.

Yoongi huffs out a breath.

‘Fucking dickheads,’ you mutter.

‘We’re Mins,’ Yoongi says. ‘Who gives a fuck what anyone says about us.’

You nod, emphatically, and don’t say anything else.

You and Yoongi enter the tennis tournament the following week, and thrash everyone in your group, including the two boys who’d called you a tampon.

It’s still the sweetest victory Yoongi’s ever experienced.

Yoongi was 23 when he realised how many more hurdles you had to jump in comparison to him.

You had both been interning at the company since high school, and by the time you’d graduated, you were well versed in the inner workings of the company, and familiar to the executives. Your father was keen for you both to sit in on a meeting with a start-up he was planning to acquire.

Yoongi still remembers how excited you’d looked, how green you’d both been, fresh out of university. You’d walked into the room with him, opened your mouth to greet the men, and one of them had said, ‘I’d love a coffee, black, if you have it.’

He’d been looking straight at you.

Yoongi can’t remember anything else that was said but he remembers the way you’d stopped in your tracks, flushed, smile dropping from your face.

It’d taken him 18 months, because initial negotiations had fallen through, but the start-up was the first hostile takeover he’d orchestrated after starting at the company. He’d dismissed the entire board, starting with the man who’d assumed you were there to bring him coffee.

The takeover had cemented his reputation as ruthless, sharp, and Min Yoongi’s been leaning into it ever since.

You’d floated into product development, and Yoongi’s not blind to how your heart’s not in it. He’s always wanted to encourage you to do something you’re passionate about, he wants you to enjoy your work as much as he does, but you’ve always had a chip on your shoulder about being the twin that’s not good at business.

As though that matters to anyone but you.

He despises rumours, but it hasn’t escaped his notice that the way people talk about you is different from the way they talk about him. And that they talk about how close you two are as if it’s a bad thing.

You’ve been there for him ever since he can remember. You did his homework for him when he went through a phase of getting blazed and fucking everything in a skirt at high school, imitating the precision of his handwriting, tamping down on the loops and swirls of your natural script.

You were the one he called when he crashed his first Lambo, taking a taxi at 1am to pick him up because for some reason you’d refused to let your parents buy you a car. You’d organised for it to be picked up, and by the following afternoon his car was back in the garage, looking as though nothing had happened to it. Your parents had never found out.

He drives more carefully now, he’s got a recurring fear of you poking your eye out with a mascara wand when you do your makeup in the car.

When you leave Park Jimin and your inheritance, he makes sure it’s easy for you to come back if you need to. He keeps the same car so that if you ever needed to use his, your keys would still work. He’s never changed his number, and he’d made sure the locks to your family home aren’t changed, and that new staff employed at the entrance gate all know what you look like if you were ever to turn up.

As the years go by, he realises that you don’t need his help, that you’re making it on your own, doing something braver than anything he’s ever done. It doesn’t stop him from discreetly buying the entire apartment building that you’re renting in, so that you never have to worry about rent forcing you out, but he’s so damn proud of you all the same.

***

Three years later

The smile on your face is starting to make your cheeks ache, so you take a big gulp of your wine.

The handsome man next to you, Jeong Jae, takes a sip of his own drink, fingers brushing yours as he put his glass back down.

It’s your first date, he seems nice enough, and your friend Aera seemed to think you two would have a lot in common.

He’s got good manners, he’s witty and he’s nice to the waitstaff.

Jeong Jae excuses himself to use the restrooms, and you’re just looking down at your phone, checking your messages when another man slides into the seat next to you.

You look up, ready to politely inform him that the seat’s taken, and the words freeze on your lips when you meet his eyes.

It’s Jimin. Specifically, your ex-husband Park Jimin.

Your mouth opens, and all you can come up with is, ‘Hi.’

Jimin is more prepared for this meeting than you are. ‘Y/N,’ he says. The familiarity of his voice makes your heartbeat accelerate.

‘We need to talk.’

‘I’m on a date,’ you say, still trying to process that your ex-husband, who you haven’t seen in years, is sitting in front of you.

‘How does he feel about polygamy?’ Jimin asks.

‘We’re divorced,’ you point out.

‘That’s the thing,’ Jimin says. ‘We aren’t.’

***

You’re looking out the window at Yoongi’s car, parked on the street outside your apartment.

‘It’s insured,’ Yoongi says, rolling his eyes.

‘This isn’t the kind of neighbourhood where you park a Lambo,’ you say, shaking your head. ‘Get a cab next time.’

Yoongi scoffs. ‘It’s an old car.’

‘You should probably get a new one,’ you agree. ‘You’ve had that for years.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with it,’ Yoongi says, dismissive. ‘What should we eat?’

You wait until the food’s arrived before you ask Yoongi what you’ve wanted to ask him all along.

‘Jimin says there was a problem with the divorce papers.’

After you left Jimin and your family home, Yoongi and Jimin successfully bid for the government tender, beating Opal to the punch. The success of the tender was just the first of what have been multiple collaborations since then, each more successful than the last. The Min Holdings – DevTech combination is a formidable one, drawing in investors like a moth to a flame.

Ironically, Yoongi and Jimin have seen more of each other in the last three years than either of them have seen of you.

You’d like to think you had something to do with it, but the truth is, the best thing you ever did was probably getting out of their way.

Yoongi puts a tuna roll on your plate.

‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘It was a technicality with the wording. The lawyers should sort it out.’

‘He wants me to go to his office and sign them next week.’

Yoongi nods. ‘Just as well neither of you got married in the interim.’

‘Why was he looking at our divorce papers? Does he want to remarry?’

You’re proud of the way your voice comes out, completely normally, as though the answer doesn’t matter to you one way or the other.

Yoongi answers a question with a question. ‘Does it matter to you?’

You shake your head. ‘No.’ You think you mean it. It’d taken you a while to get over your divorce, but you’re not sure you can get past how dismissive he was of you getting a job, striking out on your own.

Yoongi sighs. ‘I’ve never seen him with another woman since you left him.’

His words make you feel strangely relieved. You’re trying not to analyse why.

Yoongi’s frowning at the blown lightbulbs in your kitchen. ‘What a shithole this is,’ he says.

You laugh, not offended. Your apartment isn’t as luxurious as the family estate, but it’s sure as hell not a shithole.

‘We change our own lightbulbs in the real world,’ you say. ‘Can you give me a hand?’

Yoongi climbs up the ladder to reach the bulb. ‘Damn, this is high.’

‘Shit, maybe I should be climbing. Can’t let anything happen to the Min heir,’ you joke, steadying the ladder.

Yoongi’s voice is muffled by his arm as he reaches up to change the bulb.

‘I’m leaving it all to you in my will.’

You jostle the ladder immediately, and you both burst out laughing.

***

You’re nervous but trying not to be as you take the lift up to Jimin’s office.

Hyejin’s at her desk, and she smiles warmly when she sees you. ‘Ms Min, it’s lovely to see you. Mr Park’s been expecting you.’

Her friendly greeting makes you feel more at ease.

Jimin’s sitting at his desk when you enter, but he rises immediately to greet you.

‘Y/N,’ he says.

He kisses you on the cheek, and for a moment it’s as if the last 3 years never happened.

You steel yourself. ‘Hi Jimin.’

‘I wanted to talk to you before you sign the papers,’ he says. ‘Can I get you a drink?’

You accept the water he pours out for you and take a seat next to him on the sofa.

He gets straight to the point. ‘I want another chance, Y/N.’

This is not what you’d been expecting him to say.

You play for time. ‘Another chance?’

‘I’ve been thinking about how we were, and I would like to ask you if you’ll give us another chance, before we sign again.’

You look at him. He seems completely serious.

‘It’s been three years, Jimin.’

‘And I’ve changed. I’ve thought about how I was with you, and I want it to be different for us. I’ve missed you.’

‘I’ve changed too, Jimin, but I don’t know if that’s –’

‘That’s exactly it,’ he says. ‘We don’t know.’

You’re quiet as you think about his words. ‘How would we?’

‘I’d like us to try for a month. It’s enough time to show you that I’ve changed. If at the end of a month you still want to walk away, then I’ll sign those papers, no question. I won’t contest it. I’ll give you half my assets.’

You scoff. ‘I don’t care about money.’

‘I know that,’ Jimin says. ‘But I want you to be taken care of.’

He’s holding out his hand to you, and with a sense of trepidation, you shake it.

***

It’s the day of your first date with Jimin, and you’re running so late it’s ridiculous. One of your colleagues, Binna, is in the middle of a messy breakup with her boyfriend, and she’d cried on your shoulder at the end of the day.

You step out the taxi, rushing over to Jimin, who’s standing in front of your apartment building. He brightens when he sees you.

‘I thought you were standing me up,’ he says.

You throw him an incredulous look. He’s beautiful even casually dressed, in a dark cashmere sweater and slacks, a silver chain around his neck.

‘I’m sorry, a work colleague had some personal issues and I couldn’t leave. Come up.’

You lead him up to your apartment. ‘I’m really sorry, Jimin. I’ve got to do a class in half an hour, it’s only for an hour though, we can have our date after or we can reschedule, if you want?’

‘What class are you taking?’ Jimin asks, curious.

‘Oh, I’m teaching it,’ you tell him. ‘I teach an adult literacy class twice a week.’

Jimin’s looking at you, and you take his silence as incredulity.

‘I mean, I can read. I had to take a course on teaching methods, but to be honest they don’t have much of a budget, so they were desperate for people.’

Jimin touches your arm. ‘Tell you what, why don’t I come to your class? And we can grab dinner after.’

‘Don’t you know how to read?’ you ask.

Jimin laughs. ‘I’d love to see you teach. I mean, if it’s ok.’

You shrug. ‘Sure. We’ll grab dinner after. Sounds like a plan.’

You dress with care for your class and take the bus to the community centre where you teach.

You never thought you’d see Jimin on the bus, but he doesn’t seem out of place.

You leave him sitting in a corner of your room as you greet your students. It’s a small class, there are only ten people in it, but you prefer it as you can focus on each of your students more.

Minjun is one of your best students, an ex-bouncer who with a talent for writing that you’re just beginning to unlock. He grins at you as you set up your laptop. ‘Looking good, Y/N.’

‘I have a date,’ you tell him.

There’s a series of cheers. ‘Who’s the lucky guy?’ Eun-Woo, a housewife who left school with undiagnosed dyslexia at fifteen, asks.

You nod to the back of the room, where Jimin is sitting, sprawled out like he comes every week.

Eun-Woo whistles, and the room erupts in laughter.

‘Damn. He’s hot.’

You roll your eyes. ‘Come on, let’s get started.’

After class Jimin comes up to you. You’re expecting a lewd joke about hot teachers, but what comes out of his mouth instead is a simple, ‘you’re good at this.’

It means a lot to hear him say it.

‘They’re an easy class to teach,’ you say, dismissively.

‘Yeah,’ Jimin says. ‘But still, you’re a good teacher.’

You snap your laptop shut and pack it into your bag.

‘Dinner?’

Jimin and you go to a place on your road that you sometimes get takeout from. The food’s good, and the owner always treats you well.

Jimin takes a swig of his drink. ‘Your charity’s been getting a lot of attention lately.’

He’s not wrong. It had been newly established when you started working at it, and it’s gradually grown after a few high-profile celebrities have endorsed its work. You may also have pulled a few strings to encourage friends of your parents to donate, because you’re not above using your connections. It was relying solely on them that bothered you.

‘I’m sorry about what I said.’

You look at him. You hadn’t realised he still remembered it.

‘About living off your dad.’ Jimin looks at you, and you can see what looks like sadness in his eyes.

‘Christ. I was such a dick to you.’ He laughs, but there’s no humour in it. ‘And turns out, I’m the one capitalising on what I’ve inherited. You’ve made it all on your own.’

You smile. ‘Made it? I love my charity job, and I love teaching, but I’m not making bank here.’

Jimin smiles back at you. ‘You’re supporting yourself. What more do you need?’

‘I miss skiing,’ you say. ‘Snorkelling in the Indian Ocean.’

You laugh to show you’re joking. ‘I’m glad it seems like I’m living the dream, though.’

Jimin puts his hand on your arm. ‘Don’t minimise it. You don’t have anything to prove.’

You think about what Jimin said when you’re in bed later that night. You don’t know if he’s just putting on a front for you, but he’s saying all the right things so far, and god. He’s still as attractive as the man who approached you at that society do, all those years ago.

***

Jimin had said that he wanted to take you out, and to dress up. You’re standing in front of the mirror in your bedroom. You’ve picked one of your old dresses, a black Prada with eyelet trim.

When your doorbell buzzes you go down to meet him instead of buzzing him up. He takes a moment to admire you, eyes aglow.

‘You look beautiful,’ he tells you, warmth in his gaze.

‘Thanks,’ you say, casually, like you hadn’t been agonising over your outfit all day. ‘You look good too.’

He does. He’s wearing a black suit, black shirt like he’d known you’d be wearing black and he wanted to match you.

He takes you to a tiny Chinese place, one you’d never dream he’d go to.

He enjoys your surprise. ‘My mom used to take me here when I was a kid. I come here when I just want to chill.’

‘You never took me here,’ you say.

‘I wanted to impress you,’ Jimin admits. ‘I thought you might not like this place.’

You’re both overdressed for the restaurant, but Jimin’s greeted like he’s a long-lost son.

The food’s delicious.

Jimin puts his hand on the small of your back as he guides you out after your meal, and if you imagine hard enough you think you can feel the warmth of his skin.

You walk along the river on your way back, across a tiny cobblestoned path lined with boutique shops.

You’re standing outside a jewelry store that Jimin’s led you to, admiring the jewels, when Jimin says, ‘you didn’t like that necklace I gave you for our six-month anniversary.’

You’re horrified at the idea that you might have come across as ungrateful.

‘It was beautiful, Jimin,’ you tell him, honestly. ‘It wasn’t the necklace. It just made me feel like –’

Jimin’s still looking at you, so you force yourself to continue.

‘It made me feel like you thought that’s all I liked. Like I was some spoiled society girl who just liked sparkly jewels.’

Jimin’s laughing, and you flush.

‘Don’t laugh at me!’

Jimin stops, but his eyes are still sparkling. ‘I never thought you were a spoiled society girl, baby.’

The endearment makes your heart skip a beat, but he continues, ‘your heart clearly wasn’t in your product development job, but you came to work every day, and you did it, and you ran your department well. Yoongi told me that he thought you just wanted to prove yourself.’

He pauses. ‘He also told me you had nothing to prove.’

‘Surprisingly nice coming from Yoongi,’ you mutter, making a mental note to thank your brother.

‘He wanted to fight me after you left,’ Jimin tells you.

You scoff. ‘Yoongi doesn’t physically fight. He’s more of a take everything you love from you and leave you with ashes kind of guy.’

Jimin chuckles. ‘He negotiated a deal with DevTech where basically our programmers are available to him 24/7 and I’m footing the bill.’

‘Ouch,’ you say, sympathetically.

‘It’s what I deserved,’ Jimin says.

He runs a hand through his hair. ‘I got that necklace because I wanted to fuck my wife whilst she was wearing a ruby choker and nothing else.’

You let out a shocked laugh.

Jimin smirks at you. ‘I still have it.’

You shake your head at his audacity.

Jimin kisses you goodbye at your front step. ‘Think about it,’ he says, as he leaves.

‘About what?’ you ask.

‘Everything,’ Jimin says. He gets in his car, and pulls away from the curb.

You watch until his car disappears down the street and the beam of his headlights fades in the darkness.

***

‘So will you come with?’ Jungkook asks.

You’ve always found it hard to say no to Jungkook. After you met him at that party where Yoongi stole his date, you’d ended up becoming friends.

Your relationship’s always been platonic, he’s an incorrigible flirt and he’s slept with more women than you can fathom, but he’s always been a good friend to you.

‘You know I don’t really go to these society things any more,’ you hedge.

‘That’s why it’s perfect,’ Jungkook pleads. ‘I’m still the newcomer, the rough boy from the wrong side of the tracks.’ He holds up a hand as you protest. ‘It’s all bullshit, but you know that’s what the old guard think. You –’

He stops to give you his most charming grin. ‘You’re old money. You say all the right things, you do all the right things. You’re fucking golden. If I walked in with you on my arm, these old codgers would have to talk to me.’

‘I don’t think I’m as much of a draw as you think I am,’ you say.

Jungkook just gives you his best pleading eyes. He’s good, you’ll give him that.

‘Ok,’ you relent.

Jungkook gives you a hug that lasts just a moment too long, lips brushing your cheek intimately.

‘Stop it,’ you say, warningly.

‘Sorry,’ Jungkook says, but he’s not sorry at all.

‘Can I buy you a dress?’ he asks.

‘What’s wrong with my clothes?’ you ask, mildly offended.

‘And shoes?’ he asks, waggling his eyebrows.

You eventually give in to his enthusiasm and let him take you shopping.

***

The society ball Jungkook’s taking you to is one of the biggest events of the year, a fundraiser for clean water that almost everyone from your old life is going to. You know your parents, Jimin and Yoongi are going, you’ve given Jimin the courtesy of a pre-warning so he’s not surprised when you turn up on Jungkook’s arm.

Jungkook’s on good form tonight, his usual mix of cheeky, cute and inappropriate that he pulls off with aplomb.

‘You’re so beautiful,’ he tells you, frank admiration in his gaze as he helps you out of the car.

‘And, you’re attending with the one girl Min Yoongi’s not going to try to steal from you,’ you point out.

Jungkook looks morose for a second. ‘He doesn’t even look like he’s trying half the time,’ he complains.

Something else occurs to him. ‘Do I have to worry about your husband?’ he asks.

‘Jimin knows we’re going together, as friends,’ you say, nudging his arm to encourage the hand that’s slipped inappropriately low over your ass to slide back up to your back.

Jungkook just laughs. ‘Sorry.’ Again, he’s not sorry at all, but you find it hard to stay mad at him when he looks as gorgeous as he does tonight, wavy dark hair curling over his forehead, tattoos visible below the cuffs of his tux.

‘Behave,’ you say sternly.

Jungkook just smirks. ‘Oooh, use that voice on me again, I like it.’

You’re still laughing when Jimin and Yoongi approach you.

Yoongi looks unbothered by the hostile look Jungkook throws him, asking him pleasantly about his current venture. Within a minute Jungkook’s smiling cheerfully at Yoongi and offering to take him around his office.

‘There’s that famous Min charm,’ Jimin says.

He’s looking at you as he says it.

You giggle. ‘Works on anything with a pulse.’

‘Let me get you a drink,’ Jimin says. He offers you his arm, and you slip your fingers in the crook of his elbow, letting him lead you into the room.

You’re trying to remember why you were worried about tonight, it seems to be going swimmingly so far.

You’ve worked the room with Jungkook, introducing him to all of your parents’ friends, and they seem to love him.

Jungkook leans close. ‘Shall we go to our table?’

You’re surprised to learn you’ve been placed between Jungkook and Jimin, with Yoongi across from you. That’s where the trouble starts.

Jimin’s solicitous about refilling your wine glass, and you gulp down more wine than you probably should, relieved at how the night is going so far.

‘Would you like some of my steak?’ Jungkook offers.

‘Sure,’ you say, expecting him to place some on your plate.

Instead, he holds out his fork to you. ‘Here, try some,’ he says, holding it out to you.

Jimin clears his throat. ‘Actually, I have some here for you,’ he says, placing a piece of steak on your plate.

Across from you, Yoongi’s expressionless apart from the amusement in his eyes.

‘I think my steak’s more tender,’ Jungkook says, blinking innocently at you.

Your lips twitch. You know he’s just trying to wind Jimin up, but you don’t think Jimin knows him well enough to realise that.

‘I’ll try both,’ you say, resigned to eating a whole pile of meat that you didn’t really want in the first place.

You’re way too full for dessert, but you’re enjoying the way Jungkook’s trying to feed you bits of his granita like the shit-stirrer he is.

‘Your dress is beautiful,’ Jimin says. You see Jungkook’s eyes light up, and you know what’s going to come out of his mouth before he says it.

‘You tried on lots of dresses, didn’t you, baby, but this was definitely the right choice,’ Jungkook says.

Jimin narrows his eyes at Jungkook. ‘You bought this dress?’

‘Yup,’ Jungkook says, popping the ‘p’. ‘And those fuck me shoes. And the lace panties.’

He’s not lying, but he’s implying you went lingerie shopping together, which you hadn’t. You’d picked up some underwear and he’d insisted on paying.

Jimin’s up on his feet, squaring up to Jungkook, so fast your head spins. You look to Yoongi for help, but your traitorous twin is laughing so hard he’s virtually useless.

‘Jungkook,’ you say, using the sternest voice you can muster. 'Stop it.'

You turn to Jimin. ‘We’ll talk later.’

You grab Jungkook’s arm, and you all turn as there’s the flash of a camera.

‘Jungkook, let’s get out of here.’

Jungkook, obligingly, lets you lead him out of the dining room. You get your coats and the valet brings your car around.

Jungkook turns to you as he pulls onto the main road. ‘So, I guess this isn’t the night we finally fuck and relieve some of the sexual tension between us?’

‘There’s no tension,’ you say, trying not to laugh. ‘That was so bad of you, Jungkook, why did you do that to Jimin?’

‘Sorry,’ Jungkook says. ‘He was such a dick to you though.’

‘He’s making up for it,’ you tell Jungkook.

Jungkook smiles at you in the rearview mirror. ‘I’m glad. You deserve to be treated right.’

You put your hand on his arm. ‘Thanks, Jungkook.’

He pulls up outside your apartment building. ‘So… is this really not the night?’ he asks, flashing you his devastatingly gorgeous grin.

‘Really, Jungkook?’ you ask, getting out the car.

‘Sorry,’ he says. His silvery laughter rings out behind you as you walk away.

He’s not sorry at all.

***

Your father looks sternly at you and Jimin.

‘Your shenanigans have made every tabloid in the city,’ he says.

You think shenanigans is a bit of a strong word for the relatively tame picture that was leaked on social media.

In it, you’re standing between Jimin and Jungkook, Jimin’s glaring at Jungkook, fists clenched, and Jungkook’s smirking back at him.

You’ve still got a sneaking suspicion that Yoongi took the picture, you wouldn’t put it past him.

‘Look at these headlines,’ your father says, scandalised.

Your mother’s tinkly laughter rings out. ‘Oh, darling, it’s funny! Let them be. It’s not as though you and I were any strangers to scandal, back in the day.’

‘Jungkook and I are working on a new project together,’ Yoongi offers, after you kick him under the table. ‘When we publicise that everyone will know it was blown out of proportion.’

‘Papa,’ you say, soothingly. ‘Everyone will forget about it in no time.’

Your father looks mollified, but he fixes Jimin with a hard glare. ‘My daughter isn’t to be dragged into things just because you can’t manage your temper in public,’ he says.

Jimin bites his tongue to stop himself from saying that in his opinion, Jungkook needs a talking to more than him.

Your father stares at you and Jimin until he’s satisfied.

Yoongi can’t resist saying, ‘At least one Min twin behaves with decorum in public.’

‘How many Lambos have you crashed?’ you ask, innocently. ‘There was that one in high school, wasn’t there?’

Your father turns to Yoongi, and you smile smugly as you grab Jimin and leave the room.

***

As soon as your bedroom door closes behind you, Jimin’s crowding you into the door, mouth descending on yours.

‘Fuck, you’re hot,’ he murmurs, kissing you feverishly, pulling you into his arms.

You don’t answer, whimpering into his mouth as his tongue licks into yours.

Your skin feels like it’s on fire. Jimin tastes like honey and the whiskey he’d been drinking after dinner. His lips press a wet trail along your jaw, down your neck, stopping at the swell of your breasts.

‘Off,’ he murmurs.

You stumble to the bed with him, letting your silky dress fall to the floor in a shimmering puddle.

Jimin climbs on top of you and buries his face in your tits. ‘These tits,’ he says, tugging a cup of your bra down, lowering his mouth onto your breast. He laves your nipple until it’s standing at attention for him, then closes his lips around you and sucks. You moan as his hand closes around your other breast, squeezing, pinching at your nipple.

Jimin reaches around you to unhook your bra, then goes back to playing with your breasts.

Your lace underwear is sticking to you, your pussy throbbing. Jimin’s hand splays over your underwear, his thumb stroking over your clit. It’s not enough.

Desperately, you tug your underwear down, wanting to feel him on your skin.

Jimin laughs, mocking. ‘Desperate for me,’ he taunts. His fingers are on you almost instantly, spreading your slick, pushing into you.

‘Jimin,’ you moan, ‘fuck.’

He’s plunging his fingers into you, lapping at your tits, and you’re so close to cumming you cry out when he suddenly pulls his hand away.

Your eyes pop open. ‘Jimin!’

Jimin laughs, darkly. ‘Whose pussy is this?’ he asks.

He slaps your clit, and your hips buck up into his hand.

‘Mine,’ you say, defiant.

Jimin laughs at you, and he sounds almost proud. ‘That’s my girl. ‘

He pushes down his trousers and briefs in one motion, cock slapping against his stomach. He’s so hard.

You moan at the sight of it, sitting up to touch. Jimin slaps your hands away.

‘Your mouth,’ he says, and there’s a note of desperation in his voice. ‘Please. I’ve been dreaming about it.’

You’re up before he can finish his sentence, taking him in, moaning at the taste of him.

‘God, fuck,’ Jimin swears. His fingers thread through your hair. ‘Fuck.’

His whines as you take him in make you wetter and wetter. You slip a hand between your legs to give yourself some relief, and Jimin tugs at your hair, pulling you off his cock.

‘No,’ he says. ‘You cum on my cock or you don’t cum at all.’

At this point you’re so desperate to cum you can’t argue.

Jimin turns you over, slapping your ass. He plunges into you, so deep that you almost cum with the first stroke of his cock inside you.

Jimin pulls you up, biting at your earlobe, one hand stroking your clit.

‘Can you feel me?’ he asks, voice husky. ‘I’m so hard it hurts, baby, and it’s all yours.’

You cry out as his hips lunge against your ass, cock plunging deeper. ‘You gonna take my cum?’ he asks.

You’re beyond words, but like always, Jimin goes by your tone and not your words. ‘Take it, baby, take it like a good girl.’

He pinches your clit, and you cum around his cock, pussy walls fluttering around him, your arousal gushing onto him.

Jimin cries out your name as he spills inside you, long hot ropes of cum filling you up and dripping back down his cock and your thighs.

He presses kisses to your neck, whispering to you as your breathing slows and you fall asleep in his arms.

***

‘Hey,’ Jimin says.

‘Hey,’ you say, sleepily.

He’s just come out of the bathroom to get ready to go to work.

‘I have something for you,’ he says.

Your normally confident husband looks a little uncertain.

‘So I’ve been getting you birthday presents every year,’ he says.

This is news to you. ‘Even when we were divorced?’ you ask.

‘Yes,’ Jimin tells you. He passes you a large gift-wrapped box.

‘It’s not my birthday,’ you say.

‘I know,’ Jimin says. He smiles, wryly. ‘One advantage of marrying a twin is that Yoongi’s always reminding me when your birthday is.’

‘Open it,’ he urges.

You sit up, pulling the sheet up over your breasts, and lift the lid of the box.

You smile when you see the familiar jewelry box. ‘You already gave me this,’ you say, lifting the lid to reveal the ruby choker he gave you for your six-month anniversary.

‘You haven’t used it,’ Jimin says, and he sounds so disgruntled about it you can’t help but smile.

You lift the lid on a sparkly matching bracelet, a first edition of one of your favourite novels, a beautiful leather-bound journal with your initials embossed in the bottom corner.

At the bottom of the box are the divorce papers Jimin invited you to his office to sign.

You lift them out, and Jimin looks at you, unflinching.

‘It’s been a month,’ he says. ‘That was all we agreed on. If you still want a divorce I’ll sign this right now, and get my lawyers to divide my assets.’

He puts his hand on yours. ‘You deserve everything you want, even if it’s not me.’

You look down at his hand, at the wedding band still on his ring finger. You hadn’t noticed when he started wearing it again.

He sees you looking. ‘I never took it off, my love.’

You could cry.

Instead you lean close, and kiss him until you’re both breathless.

‘Wait,’ Jimin says, as you’re tugging him back down onto the bed. He holds up the ruby choker. ‘Put this on.’

You raise an eyebrow.

‘Please?’ Jimin asks. ‘I’ll make it worth your while.’

He does. Fuck, he does.

***

You’re driving Yoongi to work in his car that he’s decided to give to you as a re-wedding present.

Yoongi glances in the mirror, straightening his tie. ‘So, you’re really doing this again, huh?’

‘Yeah,’ you say. ‘Shit. What are people going to say?’

Yoongi laughs.

‘Who the fuck cares? We’re Mins.’

©hamsterclaw 2022

[wpdarlingpan]

How would yandere Damian Wayne react to his beloved having a fondness for books? Will he get jealous that she keeps gushing about non existent fictional characters? Lol I have a feeling he will 🤣

I absolutely love this idea, it was fun to write.

Trigger Warning: Abuse

(Not on Damians end but Y/N’s father)

Nothing descriptive and very brief.

~*~

Damian had met his beloved at school after she was the only one who didn’t chase after him. She didn’t even seem to notice he was there. He was determined to change that.

The first day they talked he introduced himself, waiting to see her reaction to his last name but gained nothing more than a polite introduction from herself than she returned back to the book she was reading before he interrupted her. If she hadn’t got immersed back into the book than she would have seen the surprised look adorning the young Wayne’s face.

From there on he was determined to know everything about her. He used the bat computer to find out that she lived with her father in a nice house near his own. Her mother died during child birth and she had no siblings. Damian wished he didn’t have ‘siblings’ even if he never called them that. Well... maybe Grayson. But Todd could go along with Drake.

He decided to go to her house to check in on her and his excuse was to gather intel, but what he saw was not what he was prepared for. Damian saw Y/N’s Father yelling at her as if she had nine something terrible. Damian watched as the man cursed out his young daughter making Damian scowl and tighten his hands into fists. But they suddenly stopped fighting so Damian left as he had school tomorrow and he wanted to talk to you then. If he had stayed a second longer he’d have seen her getting locked into the cupboard under the stairs without dinner.

But luckily for her she had books. She read hunger games, Harry Potter, and many more. Even twilight even though she absolutely despised the ‘Bella’ character. But they all had love. She loved to read about love and the feeling of euphoria it gave people.

“Maybe one day.” She thought to herself.

The next day Damian Wayne talked to her again. He made more progress but it was hard to keep her away from her book.

It continued for weeks and then to months. He had slowly broke down her barrier and she finally stopped ditching him to read a book.

After 3 months of talking and Damian following her around daily to make sure she was safe he finally asked her on a date.

She met him at the park during sundown. When she arrived there was a picnic blanket with a basket on it and a couple of cushions. She saw someone walk up to her from where they were sat by a tree and they gently grabbed her hand and led her to the set up.

“Do you like it?” Damian asked nervously. He knew that this date was what determined his future plans. She was his beloved even if she didn’t exactly know yet. If she didn’t like the date or found out she didn’t like him the same way he loved her than she would learn to with force and time or she could love the date and he will spend every moment of the day with her after he asks her to be his.

She smiled widely, liked it? She loved it! It was exactly like something out of a book. A grand romantic gesture.

He smirked at her smile and he just knew he was already successful in gaining her feelings. He noticed the shiny glint in her eyes.

“I love it Damian. Thank you.” She spoke smiled at him and leaned over to give him a hug making his heart spike with happiness.

They had a wonderful date and it resulted with a 2nd and 3rd one. Then he dropped the question and she couldn’t bring herself to say anything but yes.

Even as she noticed that some of the few friends she had distanced themselves from her after she agreed to be Damians girlfriend after the 3rd date.

Even when some of her romance books began to disappear, which is what really made her sad. Once she told Damian with tears in her eyes that a. Few of her books were missing he gave in and hid them in her room for her to find the next day.

That’s when something happens. Y/N’s father was killed in a police shooting after he had assisted the Joker himself on a robbery. Worst part was Y/N found out over the news.

Damian was very happy with the news of the death fo his beloveds dad. He found out about the abuse after he snuck in to her house the second time and heard a lock click with no Y/N in sight.

Damian told his father about the girl and Damian played his fathers weaknesses against him he told him that she was abused and that she needed help. She needed to be safe. That thing that convinced him finally was that Damian told Bruce that she was the one and Bruce’s eyes widened greatly before he moved into a smirk. Of course his son had found his beloved, Bruce was a Yandere too of course, where else would Damian have got the tendencies from? His mother Talia or his grandfather Ra’s? They both would be caught dead saying the four letter word.

That’s how Y/N was adopted by the Wayne’s.

That’s how she ended up staying in the room next to Damians.

That’s how she ended up being with him 24 hours a day, since he got his classes switched so he was in all of hers but when it was questioned it was for academic reasons.

Y/N was sad though. She had no friends other than Damian. Her father was dead, her mother was dead, she had no family. No matter how bad her father treated her all she could think was that she deserved the pain.

A month after the shooting Damians Yandere side began to progress. She wasn’t allowed out of the Manor without being accompanied by him if she was allowed to leave at all.

She had been taken out of school alongside Damian by Bruce at the request of his son who didn’t like that boys and girls were looking at his beautiful beloved.

He was obsessed with his love.

A few months after living in the manor, meeting everyone, and adjusting to Damians possessiveness and rules she was doing okay. She wouldn’t dare go against Damian after he had guilt tripped her after she said she wanted to be alone for awhile and take a walk. Damian was glad that she was so easily manipulated that she didn’t even attempt to fight his love. He had to protect her form the cruel world he had experienced first hand. Her kindness, innocence, and trusting nature would get her killed in Gotham. But there was nothing to worry about because he was there to protect her. He always would be.

But she grew slightly distant from Damian after she began reading the books in the Wayne Library. There was a whole room stocked shelf by shelf with books.

She had been in there reading a book where the main character was trained with a sword and was a Assassin but he fell in love with his target. That’s where Damian saw her after he had been searching for after he began to getting annoyed after being away from her for so long.

“What are you reading My Beloved?” She had gotten used to the nickname and would slightly blush at every use of it. It was another thing that seemed like it was straight out of a book, he was her knight in shining armor.

“It’s called His Mission, His Love. It’s about this dashing guy who can sword fight and is a very skilled Assassin. He falls in love with the girl he was supposed to assassinate for his group of assassins. But he failed it by falling in love. I haven’t found out what happens yet. He sort of reminds me of Finnick from that other book I told you about, Hunger games remember? Well he wields a trident and it looks super cool and...” she was cut off from Damian snatching the book from her hands and shutting it without even marking her page making her lose her page.

“Hey!” She cried out as he tossed the book across the room. He scowled when she yelled at him which result in him standing directly in front of her as she sat on the couch and he leaned down to her height the grabbed her chin making her face towards him instead of that insufferable book he had tossed across the room.

“You don’t need that book got it? You have me, and you only need me.” He spoke looking into her eyes as his face was only inches apart from her own.

“But...” she began to say. She loved books, it was nice to image the love. But she couldn’t exactly say she didn’t know the feeling for herself now after dating Damian. He had done so much for her to keep her safe and well after he father died.

“I can sword fight, I’m a assassin, I am even more handsome and richer than any character in those terribly pointless books. You don’t need them when you have me.”

She looked at him weirdly and that’s when he realized that in a fit of jealousy - over a book character- he admitted by secret he hadn’t told her yet.

“Assassin? Fighting? What are you taking about Damian.”

He rolled his eyes at her but explained.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m Robin. My fathers batman, Graysons Nightwing, Todd is Red Hood, and Drake is Red Robin.” He watched as her eyes widened making him begin to lose himself in the beautiful eyes he loved so dearly.

“Really?” She said in disbelief but it did make sense. But that’s when she suddenly blushed at a thought and by the fact it took her so long to blush Damian was thinking that she was thinking back to her book character again as her eyes darted away from him coincidentally to where the book was.

“What are you thinking about My Beloved?” he demanded in a cool tone that was laced with jealously. He grip on her chin tighten a little more and his other hand laid on her waist.

She murmured something he couldn’t hear which was very surprising as he was so close to her.

“Repeat what you said but louder. Please” he spoke waiting for her to say she was thinkjnt about the assassin from her book but he wasn’t prepared for what she would say.

“I used to have a crush on Robin, he is my favorite.” She spoke then closed her eyes willing the blush that adorned her cheeks to disappear.

This would be the first time that Damian let out a huge smile and a slight laugh of disbelief.

“I pictured him... or well you as the character from my book because of the similarities.” She spoke still lightly dying from embarrassment which worsened when he scooped her up from the couch and into his arms before kissing her face multiple times while she laughed at the feeling. Then he sat down o the couch with her in his lap, not letting go as she tried to climb out of it.

“Stay here My Beloved. Why don’t I tell you real stories?”

And that was how Damian got jealous... over himself.

And how Y/N found out the identity’s of the Batman, Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, and most of all Robin.

And it all started because of a book.

[sopstvena]

The idea of artworks as portals to other worlds dates back several centuries, and it has become a commonplace way of talking about our experiences with art. In Pictures and Tears (2001), the art historian James Elkins called it the ‘travelling theory’ of aesthetic experience. […] Here we face what I call the paradox of aesthetic immersion: when I’m immersed in artwork, I seem to go somewhere without going anywhere, and I seem to be in two worlds at once, and yet I’m not properly in either. So what kind of ‘travelling’ are we talking about?

One way to answer this question is to look closer at the phenomenology of immersive experiences – that is, the way immersion is experienced in the first-person perspective. The Polish phenomenologist Roman Ingarden (1893-1970) argued that artworks are peculiar entities that exist somewhere between the mental and the physical reality, irreducible to either but dependent on both. An artwork necessarily requires a physical basis, such as pigments on a canvas, a block of marble, letters on a page, people on the stage – in short, an external object or state of affairs that the perceiver can engage with. However, the work also needs a perceiver to blossom into what Ingarden called the aesthetic object, the artwork as experienced: it is the consciousness of the perceiver that turns the letters on a page into an imagined world, sees a landscape in a painted surface, or hears sadness in a melody.

As a mind-independent object, the artwork is a skeleton to which I give flesh by attending to it. Indeed, when perceiving an artwork, we often literally overlook the artwork as a physical object; I’m not usually aware of the letters on the page or the pigments on the canvas, as my consciousness glides over them and attends to the depicted or narrated world that opens up in engagement with the artwork. This world is not localisable in physical space. No map can lead me there. The only entry goes through the artwork. Neither is the artwork’s world a mere mental event inside my consciousness, like a phantasm or a memory, because I experience the artwork’s world as something external to my consciousness. As the French philosopher Mikel Dufrenne (1910-95) says, the artwork ‘appears in the world as something not of the world’, as an irruption of a new world in the midst of the actual world.

[…] More paradoxically still, an artwork can make me forget myself as the subject of the experience, as if I somehow became part of the object. It can consume my attention to the extent that it eclipses everything in the field of my consciousness.

[…]  Some critics have been quick to view immersion as a mere mode of vacuous enjoyment and escapism, where we lose sight of art’s function as communal sharing of ideas, as a way of deepening our understanding of the real world and our place in it.

[...] Yet I believe immersive experiences can be transformative in another, more fundamental way. The dull habituality of everyday life can easily make us forget how rich and varied human experience can be. We usually live through our daily hustle and bustle with a certain automatism that stultifies our ways of relating to the world and ourselves. By altering the basic experiential structures that sustain our sense of the everyday world, immersive artworks can show us that there are more possibilities of thinking, feeling and imagining than we usually realise. Immersion mobilises the mind, and makes its gears run in a new fashion. Though immersive experiences might not teach us anything in terms of ‘X is Y’, we do not necessarily return from immersion unchanged. Many are probably familiar with the way art’s magic can linger after immersion itself has dissipated, and how the world appears, at least for a while, richer, deeper and more enchanting than before.

— Harri Mäcklin, When art transports us, where do we actually go?

[princeescaluswords]

Wild that racist fandom simultaneously wants to portray the Hales as the elite, superior, "pure blooded" born werewolves who have a divine right to rule the territory and they're so much more knowledgeable and wise and stronger and richer, a powerful noble lineage the show "should" center on..... yet also, they are an allegory for a marginalized people + Scott is a "colonizer" and "interloper" of werewolf culture even though Peter forced him into it. A brown Latino, working class teen is somehow the oppressor of this wealthy, ancient (white) family

Here’s the thing.  Canonically, there was very little difference between born wolves and bitten wolves.  The only thing they came out and said was that born wolves have an easier time controlling themselves.   Noshiko said it in The Fox and the Wolf (3x20) and De-aged Derek said it in 117 (4x02).  Three was also a cut scene in Fireflies (3x03) where Derek said that Boyd was more dangerous because Cora might be able to control herself better..  

There is seemingly little status difference between Born and Bitten wolves.  Peter never included Scott being Bitten in his litany of superiority.   We never learn anything about the Alpha Pack’s status.  We never learned anything about the Primal’s status.  The three wolves from the Ito Pack we know about were two Born wolves taken in by Satomi.  Satomi and Talia were friends, who had tea together.  Derek and Deaton spoke of Satomi with reverence.

Of course, Derek didn’t know if he could train a Bitten wolf, but there was no implication that it was because Bitten wolves were inferior.  And there was the lie -- cribbed from Hollywood werewolf lore -- that a Bitten Wolf could be cured by killing the one who bit you.  And yes, it was a lie manipulated by Derek, who was oh-so-knowledgeable until he happened to remember something (which later turned out to be completely false) that would require Scott to do exactly what Derek wanted him to do.

Then where does the idea that these Born Wolves, superior in every way, are oppressed by a Bitten Wolf who won’t submit come from?   Or to put it another way, where do they get the idea that the clearly master race can be oppressed by degenerate lower races.  

For those who may miss the subtlety, I’m drawing a direct line from fandom’s obsession with born wolves to eugenics-based nonsense and Nazi racial-superiority politics.  For those of you who haven’t read your history recently, Hitler’s entire rise to power was based on this type of oppression fantasy: that the superior Aryan race was being deprived of their proper position by filthy Jews and Roma and Poles and black people.  

How many times have you seen the argument that Scott ‘took’ the legacy of the Hales from them?  Even this morning, I read this story-- untagged, of course:

He looked down at Scott who was still out cold on the floor. He didn’t feel any remorse in removing the Alpha spark from his former best friend. It had been what was right. Scott was no True Alpha, he wasn’t an Alpha at all, he lacked the Alpha material, and was too unconcerned with his pack and the town. Too much into his own pleasures and whims. Talia had been right when she’d told Derek that Stiles had been his Alpha. He was going to enjoy giving that responsibility to someone who was both experienced and had the heart and mind for it. Well to sometwo.

You see that?  Stiles has made the determination that Scott is not worthy of the alpha power and takes it from him.   You see, the people he believes are worthy are Talia and Derek.   The born wolves have the right to rule, the right to rise, no matter what they do or don’t do, and that means they have the authority to take from those who are lesser then they are.

It’s so eerie often parts of the fandom justify hatred of Scott and hurting, enslaving, killing Scott and use the same language and motivations of the seizure of the Sudetenland.  They describe Scott as sexually voracious, stupid, uneducated, and unworthy.   

It’s eerie, but not unprecedented.  This is an old ghost applied to a trivial purpose, but still possessing the same disgusting allure.

[ina-nis]

You can’t want people to stay. That’s toxic, that’s “codependency”. (Even if you try your hardest to stay, and make things work)

You can’t want people to prioritize you. They have more important things like their careers, their jobs. (Even if you prioritize them, over a career or jobs. And you know you’re a disposable tool... so you don’t give your blood and sweat to make your boss even richer anyway)

You can’t ask for more of their time. They have friends and family to attend to, and their older relationships are more important than newer ones. (Even if you give them a lot of your time, because they’re that important to you, regardless of for how long you’ve known each other)

You can’t want clear and proper communication. You’re supposed to read minds and pick up on the subtext and body language alone. (Even when you’ve worked really hard to be able to communicate better, considering it’s something very difficult for you in the first place)

You can’t complain about how the current reality of relationships, and how most of them happen through a screen is harmful to you. You’re supposed to get on with the times and use social media instead of whine. (Even when most of your communication already happens online, but you’re not supposed to crave actual physical closeness from others, huh?)

You can’t complain about unrequited affection. That’s just how life is. No one owes you anything. (Even when this is basically all you ever experienced. For you this is, in fact, how life is. And that leaves a bitter aftertaste)

You can’t complain about rejection. That’s just how life is. No one owes you anything. (Even when this is basically all you ever experienced. You can’t be angry about it, you can’t cry over it neither)

You can’t expect people to change their lifestyle for you. That’s too much to ask. (Even when you go to lengths to change your lifestyle for them, because you want to make them feel included and important)

You can’t want to feel special and wanted. You’re just another one. (Even when you try to make others feel special and wanted, because you know how much of a difference it makes in someone’s self-esteem)

[saphirered]

Something to tug at the heartstrings: How about a sequel to Ghost, wherein the reader loses Lucien a second time but, eventually, finally, finds happily ever after with Kingsley? A sorta soulmate AU, where the reader is just meant to be with this soul. Thank you! 💜

Okay, this one turned out a loooooot longer than I intended but I'm happy with the way it turned out. Definitely something to pull on your heartstrings with a good amount of angst and fluff. Hope you enjoy and thank you for requesting! 😘

-

You knew it was over, the end had come when even across the worlds you felt like a final thread within you had snapped yet you felt nothing, just empty. You knew that moment would come at one point and while you hoped things could have been different… No, things could never have ended differently. Even then, you already knew there was a madness, greed and hunger for power within Lucien he could never escape. Never would it be enough. He’d stop at nothing and would sacrifice everything if that meant he’d achieve his goals. He was willing to do it before, he had done so before and would do it again a thousand times over.

Lucien had been angry, upset, trying to convince you this is not where it had to end between you two. That you could follow him along this path, forever, no longer bound by a fate not your own, a life in the hands of another. You could truly have been free. You could have been like gods among the ants left at the mercy of the whims of circumstance. That’s what he promised you. He promised you greatness, the world, a future of your own making, power, riches, you could have named your price and he’d offered it to you. Lucien had told you no price would be too steep for him but you had found one.

You’d asked him, once faced with the choice, would he choose you or would he risk it all in the pursuit of this damned purpose of his? Lucien didn’t have an immediate answer. Those moments of silence before his honeyed words were enough for you to know the real answer and deflecting, dancing around the truth like he had, all of it was just a dead give away. Nevertheless he tried to keep you at his side because if you know one thing, Lucien is a selfish man and he’d do anything and everything in his power to keep you at his side unless you’d leave of your own volition.

Lavish gifts, romantic gestures, luxuries he’d bestow upon no other, no expense was too great, no time wasted and no love spared. Lucien really went all out to show you just how much you mean to him, how much he needs you, needs you at his side. But nothing could make up for the fact that in the end he wasn’t sure wether he’d choose you or power when faced with the ultimatum. He knew that if he asked you, you’d give your life for him but he could not return the favour and his love knew boundaries set by his idealistic purpose. The more time you spent with him, the clearer that became.

When you became more reserved, coming to terms with this truth that did not mean you distanced yourself from Lucien. You still loved him and that wouldn’t change but like before, you refused to be part of his own demise. You’d not stand idly and watch as he went on a suicide mission with some perverted shadow of what was once living. You don’t know whether or not it was something Lucien had planned, if it was a spur of the moment, if he even was aware he was doing it or the Eyes of Nine reaching out to you but you’d seen the visions, you started waking up being faced with the horrors to a red eye marked on your skin, and another, and another.

And the more you were shown, the clearer it became. You could not be part of this. You’d not resign yourself to this fate and watch the others fall for the whims of one man and his own stupid greed, watch the man you loved fall to his own selfish hunger for power. You’d spare yourself the heartbreak of having your lover be torn away from you yet again. So you left. You did what you couldn’t do before; said your goodbyes and left. If this is truly what Lucien wanted then you would not stand in his way. You’d not be an obstacle but you’d also not be watching from the sidelines waiting for a side to win. You’d not interfere because after all this is the man you’d sacrifice the world for but you’d not stand by and watch him sacrifice you for his own visions. Should he find his way back to you you’d embrace him with open arms. Should he not, you’ll have departed on your own terms and made peace with that. You’d have said your goodbyes.

So when that final thread snapped, the eyes disappeared and a quietness hit you, like all sound had been pulled from the world but the wind and the waves you knew it was over. Lucien was dead and gone and Lucien would not be returning this time around. The world was spared and had gone back into tune. The Mighty Nein had returned and truly became the unsung heroes of Exandria. They did what you could never. They’d risked it all for the people they loved and they succeeded. And while your heart warmed at the thought of that love you also felt an emptiness, an emptiness you’d experienced once before when Lucien was first taken from you.

—————

Even now, that feeling of emptiness, a part of you missing still lingered. It’s as if when Lucien finally passed he took a part of you with him and your life would never be as it was before. You still wouldn’t change a thing. You had found purpose not only in your skills but a sense of belonging among the Revelry. Sure they were a rowdy bunch but something about Darktow and it’s people reminded you of the early days of the Tombtakers. Call it sentimental. But you made yourself useful, proved your usefulness, resourcefulness and connections across Wildemount and beyond to benefit you and ended up with a ship of your own, a respected Captain among Darktow with the favour of the Plank King himself. Though the latter is mainly to do with the copious amount of gold you’ve brought him. You and your crew alone have given the man a private fortune that must have made him richer than the kings of the mainland. Not that you cared. Gold did little to fill that void left in your heart. You had no use for it save for the upkeep of your ship, the payment of your crew and the copious amounts of booze and gambling you and your crew partook in simply because you could.

Life in Darktow and as a member of the Revelry is anything but uneventful but that’s exactly what you need to keep you on your toes. The day you resign yourself to a quiet and restful life is the day you die. You’d been in port for a week and a half and things have been going smoothly. Too smoothly in your opinion because if you know anything it is the gods like messing with your threads of fate a little too much. Perhaps your next voyage will be all storms, or you’ll get stranded somewhere? Maybe the Concord will be on the hunt for you again? A naval battle or a few could be fun? What will the gods throw at you next?

Maybe you shouldn’t have tempted the gods like so because the next thing you see is a tiefling of lavender skin, intricate tattoos all over, and a charming grin on his face attempt to barter with one of your deckhands for something. Your stomach drops, shivers running down your spine and conflicting emotions of joy and pain rush through you all at once. Your bosun shakes your shoulder after seeing you so shellshocked and checks in to see if you’re alright. You shake it off and take a minute to breathe studying the interaction with the tiefling.

Right from the get go you know it’s not Lucien. It couldn’t be and wouldn’t be. Yet it’s also not Mollymauk. However brief your knowing him may have been, you knew well enough this was also not the circus man you’d grown to admire. So who is this? Curious by nature and unrestrained, unbound by the knowledge you probably shouldn’t against all better judgement, you step over to the gangplank on the other end of which your deckhand and the tiefling are conversing. You stand there, crossed arms and just watch. Neither seem to notice you as of now but you’re sure they will if you stay long enough.

As Kingsley goes on, trying to convince this deckhand he just needs to speak to the captain for a brief moment because the Plank King has told him he is to deliver an urgent message, all lies of course, he catches the glimpse of someone that seems familiar to him in some way. He hasn’t ever encountered this person standing at the top of the gangplank before. This isn’t a face he’d forget. He’s never one to forget a pretty face and well, this one’s the prettiest of them all. Okay, he may have seen people as pretty before, so he’ll blame it on attraction then because the moment his eyes fall upon this figure the world just fades for an instant, the words of the deckhand falling on deaf ears but he’s good enough to not let it be noticed.

“You wish to see the captain? Well here I am.” Finally you make your way down the gangplank with a walk that expresses authority and grace but there’s something Kingsley can’t quite put his finger on. You turn to the deckhand.

“I’ll deal with this. Back to work.” The deckhand with a nod to you and not so much as a goodbye to him scurries up the gangplank and goes back to whatever task Kingsley had kept him from.

“My my, captain, I must say your ship is magnificent…” The tiefling tries to sweet talk but the expression you give him shows you’re not buying it. That doesn’t mean he’ll stop trying. He’ll just have to up his charm a little. Kingsley wants a ship and this is a great ship. He meant that part.

“Cut the crap and get to the point. I don’t have all day.” You give the man a wink for some reason feeling yourself slip into that back and forth game of wit and charm you’d had with Lucien. Gods be damned for pulling on those strings again, your heartstrings no less. And damn your own weakness for not being able to resist that charming grin of this man.

“Perhaps this is a conversation better had in private?” Kingsley, as promised picks it up a notch and walks up the gangplank like he already owned the ship but gestures for you to lead the way. Deciding to humour him and yourself you lead the way to your cabin, the door falling shut behind you two.

—————

The events that followed were the beginning of the end and the more time you spent with this man, this new version of the face you’d been so familiar with, the more you felt that emptiness begin to fade. At first Kingsley had tried to persuade you to go to the Plank King to give himself the opportunity to get the ship’s papers and convince the crew that you’d done something terrible and face judgement while he’d offer to vouch for the crew to be spared if they accepted him as captain. When that didn’t work he tried to coax you in sharing a drink with him, one he had spiked with a strong sedative so he could leave you at the docks and sail away. When that didn’t work he tried to sleep with you. Maybe a few days or weeks in your company wouldn’t be so bad. Have you seen you? He could spent hours just getting lost in your eyes.

But he didn’t manage to charm his way into your bed either. You’d caught him on all accounts, somehow figured out all his attempts and called them out exactly how he planned them. It’s like you could read his mind, or at the very least calculate his every move before he’d even done so. He isn’t anything if not persistent. He wanted your ship and he’d work for it. What he didn’t expect was the need to literally work for it when you offered him a job as a second mate since the last one had fallen to the jaws of a dragon turtle.

Over the weeks on your ship you’d eased him into fact that you had a very intimate relationship with Lucien and had met Mollymauk. You knew who he used to be, you knew his story up until a certain point. In turn Kingsley filled in the gaps, though even his knowledge felt more like second hand too. While you both tried keeping your distance when it came to the undeniable attraction between the two of you it was difficult. That pull remained, be it from your own memories of the past, the ghosts that still plagued you sometimes, or his phantom visions and feelings from a life he never lived himself.

You had to come to terms with it but the more you got to know Kingsley and the more he got to know you, why should you keep fighting something you both felt? Why put up walls, put in time and effort in something so… so stupid? So you had a good and honest talk. Set some boundaries and drew a line. You’d see where this would take you and won’t put any pressure or expectations on the other but you certainly wouldn’t spent a moment more trying to fight this stupid pull between the two of you. Those days were over.

The threads of fate could be a twisted thing but at times could be so in a humorous way. Kingsley had ended up with the ship he wanted after all. Not be leaving you stranded, poisoning or even killing you. Instead his secret message from the Plank King did come. Though his had been a lie when you first met, this one wasn’t. With the discourse on the high seas, the tensions between Xhorhas and the Empire on the low and the Concord’s opportunity to look towards the Revelry, you were needed as more than just a captain in a fleet. You’d be a commander instead and your captaincy would have to move to someone else so who else could you have handed it to? Both of you had been laughing like idiots when you finalised the deal and signed over the deed of the ship to Kingsley Tealeaf.

Despite this new promotion you’d still find yourself back on your old ship with Kingsley going on adventures of your own. He made a good captain save for the mornings he’d be preoccupied and slacking leaving his first mate to take over his duties. Coincidentally those were the days you’d spend on the ship and of course the captain could not let you sleep among the crew. No, you deserved a place more suitable of your station; the captain’s cabin. Part of that arrangement neglected to mention to the others was that the captain would be sharing his cabin with you.

So you’d wake up in each other’s arms like plenty of times before, fingers brushing through your hair, gently dancing over your shoulder and arm up and down as the light bleeds through the curtains signalling the afternoon’s approach. And as per usual with a groan, you’d shift and readjust yourself into a more comfortable position and allow your sleeping limbs to wake. A kiss would be pressed to your cheek, forehead, crown, shoulder, neck, wherever was most convenient pulling you from the final clutches of sleep and easing you into the day.

These moments would be spent embracing the quiet sounds of the waves rocking the ship gently and the shanties of the working crew, until one of you decided to break that silence.

“You are the most truthful and up front person I’ve come across in a long time.” Kingsley speaks as he presses a kiss to the top of your head as you wrap your arms a little tighter around him. You look up to him with an amused half smile, final hints of exhaustion still remaining on your features.

“I am a liar, a thief and a killer. I live a life of piracy and plague the seas.” You deadpan and earn a ‘you know what I mean’ look from the tiefling as you flick his chin. He catches your hand before you can do it again and instead kisses your knuckles, holding on tightly with an amused grin as you try to retaliate.

“And yet you stand out among the masses like a beacon. I could be faced with the promises of the world and my eye would still fall to you. I don’t pretend to understand why or how but it’s true.” Kingsley might have given the words a bit more flare but they’re true no less. He doesn’t understand why but the two of you, or whatever version of him, seem to be entwined wherever you go always bound to end up meeting over and over again like you can’t escape. It’s not like he minds because the two of you meeting back up in unpredictable spaces and situations has been rather enjoyable. Especially once you’d gotten a moment to yourselves.

“Are you trying to charm me, captain Tealeaf?” You tilt your head slightly giving him the same look you’d done when you first met; innocent disbelief.

“I don’t know. Is it working? Because if so, I will lie and say it’s intentional.” At this comment you sit up, pulling yourself free and leaning on your elbow to allow your lips to meet in a sweet but quickly heated kiss. There’s a knock at the door and you pull away making move to get out of bed but Kingsley holds you there. He’s got no intention of leaving this bed just yet and neither are you if he can persuade you to stay. Let the outside world stay that; outside.

“You’re a good man, Kingsley.” You stroke his cheek tracing along the peacock feathers crawling up his neck and jaw. Kingsley raises an eyebrow but when you see that half grin crawl up his face you know you might just have said the wrong thing. Not bad but more akin to provoking the devil.

“I am a liar, a thief and a killer. I live a life of piracy and plague the seas.” Your own words are turned against you and you scoff. The knocking on the door doesn’t go away and Kingsley rolls his eyes childishly clearly not wanting to be bothered by the whines and responsibilities of the day just yet.

“Yes. Yes. I head the first time.” He shouts annoyed with the interruption and the knocking stops but instead of making any move of getting up he pulls you into his lap. A surprised giggle escapes your lips as playful kisses are peppered all over your shoulders and neck.

“Did you have to deal with their constant antics or could they figuring things out themselves?” Kingsley asks between kisses.

“Always.” You pull yourself out of Kingsley’s grasp and get off the bed reaching for a shirt and pulling it over your head earning a groan of disappointment from the man. You shake your head in amusement.

“I suggest you get dressed before you have a mutiny on your hands for neglecting your crew, Captain Tealeaf.” You put on your pants and sit down on the edge of the bed to slip on your shoes, tying the laces as you go. You feel the tiefling slip up behind you arms wrapping around your waist.

“Is that an order, commander?” Kingsley whispers into your ear. You smile turning your head to face him, waiting to see who will lean in first and close the gap. The knocking on the door returns and you take this moment to gently flick Kingsley’s chin again as you slip from his grasp and step over towards the door. Kingsley grumbles a collective of rather colourful words making you grin.

“It is, captain. Back to work.”

[rwhague]

3 Tips for Stronger Writing

If I had a dollar for every post I’ve read about writing. . . but with inflation the way it is, I’m not sure it would make much of a difference. If you look around, especially on places like Pinterest, you’re going to find quite a bit of good information as well as conflicting information. Here are the best tips I’ve seen and the concepts behind them. 

Use Active Verbs Rather Than Passive Verbs

For all of those people who did not find English as their favorite subjects, here’s what this means: 

A verb is anything that causes action in the sentence. For example: The cat ran. In this sentence, the verb would be ran. 

There are other little words that can help describe an action that was done to the subject. Am, is, are, was, were, are examples of these helping verbs. Example sentence: Katie was pushed by Eric. Was pushed is the verb phrase. 

However, the example sentence can be reworded and written like this: Eric pushed Katie. The meaning is retained, but the helping verb is removed. Instead of something happening to the subject, the subject is doing something. This is what it means when someone says to use more active verbs rather than passive verbs. Now the sentence is stronger or has more of a punch. 

Show, Don’t Tell

This is one of the harder tips to explain, but it is important. 

Which of the examples below gives you a better picture of the personalities of my characters?

Katie was angry at Jared because he kept interrupting her. 

Or . .

Katie gritted her teeth as the boy cut in for the fifth time in her explanation. 

I didn’t have to tell you Katie was anger, because most readers know that emotion that Katie is experiencing as described by her body language. 

Other examples of showing and not telling:  Katie falls in love: When Jared entered the room, Katie’s breath fled. As he smiled, she kept staring at his soft lips, remembering their first kiss.  Katie is scared: The hairs on the back of Katie’s neck rose as Midas entered the room.  Katie is embarrassed: Warmth flooded her cheeks as the shattered dishes scattered across the floor. 

You get the point. See how much richer the narrative is now that the body language has been described rather than the emotions told? 

Don’t Head Hop

This is another one of those complicated things to explain. At first, I was skeptical about altering my manuscript in this way, but after fixing one chapter, it was clear that this was the way to go. 

Point of view (POV) is a term describing whose perspective the narrative is told from. If you haven’t guessed, Katie is my POV character. There are several types of POV: 

1st person: Think Katniss in the Hunger Games. Everything is told from the perspective of Katniss. “I did this. . .I saw this. . .” 

1st person peripheral: Think Red in the Shawshank Redemption. Andy Dufresne is the main character, but the story is told from the perspective of Red. “When I saw Andy for the first time. . .” 

2nd person: Usual used for instructional writing. “First you pop the hood, then you find the whatever greasy mechanical thing we are talking about. . .” (Not a car person). 

3rd person: This is your narrator. There are 3 types of 3rd person (if this wasn’t confusing enough)

Omniscient: Think Death in the Book Thief. This is an almost god-like narrator who knows what everyone is thinking, and what everyone is doing at the same time. 

Limited: Most stories I’ve read are in either this category or the next. Think Shutter Island. You are in the head of DiCaprio’s character. This can be fun, because you can have a lot of twists added. Your POV character might not be privy to a lot of the things that are taking place around them, or they might not be an accurate narrator. Then at the end, everything is revealed. 

Multiple: Think. . .well. . .a lot of books. I’m going to go with the Count of Monte Cristo. Here, Edmond Dantes is not present for every scene that takes place in the story, so he can’t be the POV for every scene. 

1st person and 3rd person limited are very tight forms of narrative with strict rules. If your character does not know it, your narrator does not know it either. This is where head hopping comes in. 

You’re bee-bopping along in Katie’s head, when suddenly, your author states that Jared looked over at Midas, and anger boiled within him. EEEK! Stop right there. You are in Katie’s head, and unless she can read minds, she doesn’t have insight into Jared’s personal feelings. Now, you can have her notice things about her friend--maybe his hands clutch the rail in front of him until his knuckles turn white. Maybe a sneer crosses his face, but you can’t be privy to his personal thoughts. This is head hopping. 

But I want my reader to know different perspectives. . .

You can have multiple perspectives, but it’s not 3rd person limited. A single POV will make your narrative stronger. If you must have multiple POVs (like in the Count of Monte Cristo), I would recommend that you change your POV in the next chapter or after a clear scene break. 

I would also recommend that when you change your POV , that you give each character their unique voice. One of my critiquers recommended that I have Katie state how many bunk beds were in one room. Here’s the problem though: Katie wouldn’t think to count them. But do you know who would? Jared, my other POV. So, if I’m writing from Jared’s perspective, I will have him notice certain things that Katie wouldn’t and vice versa. 

Those are my three tips for better writing! If you have enjoyed reading, please consider subscribing and reblogging!

[ninak803]

Elitist Nightmares

Here it is! I promised you a new thing & here it finally is! Thank you @whataboutmyfries for working on this with me! It’s so much fun & I love the ideas you’re giving me! Can’t wait to see what the other chapters will bring us.

This is a wolfstar thing, but there are also @lumosinlove‘s lovely characters in here! Thank you for creating them, we all love them so much.

So enjoy y’all!

Chapter 1

Remus

Remus was standing in the small, overheated office. He had goosebumps nevertheless, but they didn't come from the room temperature or because he was feeling cold. 

They came because of his new mission, which he had just received. He knew it would come eventually, just the when was unclear. Until now. 

And he knew it had to be him, he was the best for this job.

He tucked the inconspicuous folder neatly under his arm and blinked against the darkness in the room to make out his boss’s silhouette

“Be done by the end of this month, Lupin.” a low voice said.

He turned around without another word and left his boss's office.

Remus was packing his backpack when his phone rang. He looked at the screen but didn’t recognize the number. That was weird. Just a few people had this phone number; and he knew all of their numbers by heart.

He picked it up.

“Hello?” Remus said.

There was a short moment of silence.

“Is there Remus Lupin?” a male voice said. It sounded young, with a southern accent.

“Who are you?” Remus asked, disgruntled.

“Oh yeah. I’m sorry. I’m Leo Knut. Dumbledore gave me your number. I’m sorry. I should have said that right away.”

Ah. So he called on Dumbledore's behalf. It must have something to do with his new mission.

“How can I help you?”

Remus looked at his watch. He didn’t have the time to make small talk right now, so this Leo Knut better hurried up a bit.

“I get the feeling that Dumbledore didn’t tell you the slightest thing about me, did he?” the caller sounded irritated.

“Well, I don’t know who you are or why you’re calling me, so obviously he didn’t. And hurry up a bit, could you? I don’t have time for this right now.”

Remus knew he sounded unfriendly and harsh, but he wanted to start this new job today and for that he still had a lot to prepare.

“I’m sorry, I know, but I’m your partner for this mission.”

“My what? My partner? I don’t work with partners. This must be a mistake.”

“Uh… No. Dumbledore told me himself.” Leo said.

“Okay, okay. We shouldn’t be talking about this on the phone. You know where I live, I guess? Be here in 10 minutes, we can talk then.” 

Remus didn’t wait for his answer and hung up.

He sighed.

A partner? Dumbledore knew pretty well that he was working alone. He didn’t need a partner, damn he didn’t want a partner!

Damn it.

Remus finished packing his backpack. He had put a water bottle, a pen and a notebook in there. He still needed some energy bars and apples just if he became hungry. Just in case.

The doorbell rang, and he went to the main door to open it.

Remus scanned his visitor quickly with an experienced look.

In front of him stood an approximately 1,85m to 1,90m tall, blonde boy. Remus guessed he wasn’t even 20 yet. His smile was bright and his blue eyes friendly. He had a grey streak of hair; he noticed. He wore simple blue jeans and a dark grey shirt, nothing remarkable. Good.

Remus stepped aside to let him in, then he closed the door behind them.

Leo held his hand up for Remus to take it, then shook it gently.

“Hi. I’m Leo Knut. Nice to meet you.”

Remus nodded.

“Nice to meet you. Here. Sit down, please. We have some talking to do.” 

Remus led him to the kitchen where Leo sat down on one of the chairs. Remus took two glasses out of the cupboard, filled them with water and handed him one of them, then sat down across from him.

“Merci.” Leo said as he took the glass.

“You’re from the South. Louisiana?” 

Leo nodded.

“New Orleans.”

Leo then filled him in. 

Dumbledore had forgotten to inform Remus that he will have a partner for this mission. It felt more like he didn’t tell him on purpose, because he knew Remus would protest. He didn’t need a partner and Dumbledore knew this damn well.

But Leo also said that he was new to this, and he needed a teacher and there wasn’t a better one than Remus.

He sighed.

“Okay, okay, you can work with me.” The younger ones' eyes lit up at that. “But we need rules. First you do as you're told. No acting on your own. Don’t question what I’m doing, I give you explanations when the time’s right. You have to be on time. And you’re staying in the background, don’t complain about it. Got it?”

Leo nodded.

“Okay. Good. So you know what we have to do next?”

“We’re observing Sirius Orion Black, heir of the Black Family, 25 years old, next one in power.”

“Right. This will take us some time. We need to figure out his habits, get to know the places where he goes. We simply need to get to know him but, and this is most important, he must not notice us. Never. And then…”

“Then?” Leo tilted his head.

“Then, when the opportunity arises, I'm going to kill him.”

---

Leo and Remus agreed to meet tomorrow morning at 5:30 am again, then start their investigation.

Remus sighed and sat down on his bed. This job just got a lot more complicated than he’d thought. There was a reason he usually worked alone: It wasn’t the safest job in the world and if something went wrong, which it usually doesn’t because he was careful but you never know, he was the only one to get hurt and no one else, only his life would be destroyed. But now there was Leo, and he seemed eager to learn, so Remus just had to be extra careful. Maybe it was good to have a second pair of eyes to watch for once. This was the most important mission Remus ever received. 

The Black family were the ones ruling the country, Orion Black to be more precise. Officially his wife Walburga didn’t have to say a thing in state affairs, but everyone knew she was holding the strings.

They had two sons: Sirius Orion Black, their oldest son and heir to the imperium, and Regulus Arcturus Black, the younger one.

This country had a democracy once, but it was long gone now. The Black family was in power now for the 6. generation and they didn’t plan on letting go, if anything they just made their position stronger and clearer over the years. And they weren’t good for the country, they weren’t good for the people. The only thing they were good at was making themselves richer and all the other poorer. There was a huge gap.

The plan was to finally end their reign with ending their descendents and then bring back democracy to this country.

Sirius

He woke up to a knock on his door. The sun was already shining through his bedroom window; the birds singing noisily and Sirius turned around, pulled his sheets over his head and closed his eyes again. He really didn’t want to get up. If he gets up, he has to deal with his family again and he just didn’t want to.

There was another knock on his door, more persistent this time, followed by a voice:

“Sirius, open the door. It’s me. I know you’re awake.”

Sirius sighed and got up. He unlocked the door, opened it and stepped aside so James could come inside.

James, a mess of black curls and blind without his glasses. His valet, his bodyguard and, most important, his best friend. His only reason he wasn’t completely insane by now.

Sirius walked back to his bed and sat down, still just in his underwear and a t-shirt, but he didn’t care, not in front of James. He had seen him worse, much worse.

“You’re here to bring me today's agenda, I assume?” Sirius said with a still hoarse voice from sleeping.

“You assume right my friend.” James answered and sat down next to him on the bed.

James smiled at him, a gentle and honest smile, not like the false and mean ones he received from his parents.

He told him what he had to do for the day. Being at this meeting, showing up at that meeting, having dinner with his family and some apparently important people. If he was lucky, he had some time to himself between meeting number two and dinner today, so that was a ray of hope at least.

“And now you should get up, take a shower, put some clean clothes on and get some breakfast. Your parents are already gone, don’t worry. Regulus is still waiting for you though, he told me to catch you.”

James got up and headed for the door.

“James?”

The other boy turned around and looked at Sirius, an eyebrow raised.

“Thanks. For sticking around.” 

“Of course.”

James smiled at him again and then left.

After showering, Sirius went into the dining room, where his brother was still sitting at his usual place. 

The table was filled with more food than any of them could eat: There were croissants, different kinds of fresh bread, pastries and fresh fruits.

Sirius sat down and reached for the coffee pot.

“It’s empty.” Regulus said without looking up from the newspaper he was reading.

Sirius wanted to say something, showing his brother his annoyance, but Regulus spoke again:

“I already ordered fresh coffee. Should be here any moment.”

Almost at the same moment one of the servants showed up and filled Sirius’ cup with fresh, steaming coffee.

“Thanks.” he said, not sure if he was talking to his brother or the servant.

He drank his coffee and had some fruits before he noticed Regulus eyes lingering on him.

“What’s up, brother dear?” he asked him.

“This dinner today is important.”

Sirius rolled his eyes.

“Shut up, Reggie.”

“Don’t call me that. You have to behave for once, don’t be… just don’t be you. Behave.”

The anger rose inside of Sirius. He should not be himself? Then who the fuck was he supposed to be?

“Didn’t Mom and Dad have time today to give me The Talk, or is that why you’re doing this?”

“Oh, I bet they will do it later. Just listen to me, it’s important. This dinner is important for the whole family, okay? You’re part of the family. You’re supposed to be the heir, act like it then.”

Sirius got up and left the room without another word.

He wasn’t hungry anymore.

[fandumbstuff]

The Star Wars Saga, ranked best to worst.

1. The Empire Strikes Back Directed by Irvin Kershner

Upon close consideration, I’ve come to the shocking conclusion that Empire is the best Star Wars film. There’s a wealth of world-building and character development here that in many ways makes Star Wars the living breathing universe it is now. A richly complex melodrama lies at the heart of Empire, giving a whole new meaning to the term “space opera”. The performances here are some of the strongest in the entire franchise. Mark Hamill not only fleshes out Luke’s character, but in his training with Yoda and his duel with Vader he establishes the profound nature of the force, and how every future character interacts with it. As Han and Leia, Harrison Ford and Carrie Fisher create authenticity to their characters’ relationship. Often misinterpreted as playfully hostile or sassy, there’s a real and endearing sense of affection between them, particularly in the infamous “I love you”/”I know” line- shedding their previously petty flirtation and affirming their true feelings. The emotional crux of Empire lies not in the most memorable twist, but in the moments immediately following it - In Luke and Leia reaching out to each other, reconnecting a relationship that was lost, rekindling hope in the force after we thought it was lost.

2. A New Hope  Directed by George Lucas

I’ll be the first in line to make fun of dorky George Lucas and his woeful attempts at writing dialogue or romance. However, it’s pretty damn impossible to ignore what he achieved with Star Wars in 1977. The sheer audacity of his vision and his determination in executing it despite the naysaying from producers and supposed friends. Lucas had the bold idea of using cinema for it’s absolute worth- more than just a storytelling medium but a theatrical one. A cacaphony of sight and sound that could draw mass audiences and create a lasting impression. It’s a formula that every Hollywood and Bollywood blockbuster strives and more often than not fails to follow. It’s hard to dissociate A New Hope from the cultural phenomenon it helped create, but when you do, it stands as an impressive film on it’s own. Groundbreaking in terms of it’s visual effects and nostalgic in the simplicity of it’s sci-fi serial story, Star Wars ticked all the right boxes for so many people. If I was to boil Star Wars down to an essence, i think it lies in 2 scenes: Luke looking out at the binary sunset on Tattooine, and Han Solo yahooing after the Falcon saves Luke in the Death Star trenches. Those two scenes, Wistfulness and Exuberance, are the two sides of one concept- Adventure. Star Wars ignited those emotions in every child’s imagination, and it’s a flame that’s likely to never go out. 

3. Rogue One: A Star Wars Story Directed by Gareth Evans

Hard to believe this is a Disney movie. While the house of mouse may have a reputation for emotional gut punches in kids movies, it’s never felt quite so... permanent. Rogue One is an unrelenting emotional journey barelling towards surefire tragedy. We spend moments with characters that seem to be carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders. The sense of desperation that permeates the movie almost overpowers any sense of heroism. It’s so unlike anything we’ve seen in a Star Wars movie. Their courage comes from a place that is wholly genuine and believable. We see the rebellion for the despondent group that they are. Sorely outnumbered by the Empire, their actions in this movie show a reckless, darker side to them and makes the morality of Star Wars so much more complex. The first time we meet Cassian Andor- the stand out performace of the film by Diego Luna- we see him kill another rebel to protect their secrets. It’s a movie that reframes the original Star Wars trilogy, making it a richer, complex universe and more intriguing as a result. Also, the last five minutes might be the best five minutes in any Star Wars movie.

4. Return of the Jedi Directed by Richard Marquand

The one sore spot in the original trilogy for me are the Ewoks. I realise it's ridiculous for me to complain about kid-friendly creatures in a kid's movie, but Star Wars has done this a lot more tolerably in the form of Porgs and Baby Yoda. Just something about these furry, Tibetan speaking monsters who somehow have the wherewithal to defeat an elite and well equipped empire rubs me the long way. Anyway, other than that, the movie's pretty fantastic. The culmination of Luke's journey comes to a head in an extremely emotional and effective climax. John Williams score crescendos to operatic heights and Mark Hamill's stellar performance sells Luke’s torment. It’s also worth noting that in those final moments of moral dilemma, Darth Vader is silent- it’s David Prowse’s performance entirely that sells this. His incredible presence throughout the trilogy builds to this moment and you can feel the weight of it in those closeups on Vader. Every other cast member rounds the story out perfectly- from Lando and Han’s playful rapport to Leia’s more militaristic side in planning the rebellions final moves. I still bemoan the fact that they changed the final song- an opinion that I’m apparently a minority on- but it’s a pretty incredible ending altogether and wonderfully cathartic to watch over and over again.

5. The Last Jedi Directed by Rian Johnson

With Last Jedi, Rian Johnson analyzed the universe Star Wars inhabits, and what drives it’s characters. The characters that we love are pushed to their limits, struggle against insurmountable odds and their own innate flaws. And we see all of them fail in turn. It is remarkably bleak, but not without purpose. It is out of this failure that the Resistance needs to recoup and come back stronger. The performances here, are arguably the best you’ll find in the entire franchise. Daisy Ridley has to break down Rey’s naivete and find a deeper sense of self actualization. Adam Driver hands in some of his best work, by swerving the audience into believing Kylo Ren and then creating a desperate plea in THAT throne room scene, and eventually turning him into a snivelling villain, all in the same movie. Mark Hamill’s performance here is heartbreaking- revealing the bleakest version of Luke, and struggling to find his redemption. Last Jedi is a bold deconstuction of these characters, of what they stand for, and what makes Star Wars beautiful.

6. The Force Awakens Directed by J. J. Abrams

In many ways, a safe movie to announce the return of Star Wars. But it’s hard to fault this. Disney’s decision making was shrewd here, bringing on J. J. Abrams to pay homage to George Lucas’ original vision, returning the franchise to it’s roots of practical effects and shooting on film. There was something truly special about experiencing this film in theatres, so much so that I did it eleven times. It captured a sense of wonder for fans new and old- hearing the scream of Tie Fighters, John Williams herald the return of the Millenium Falcon, and the look of awe on Rey’s face as she clutches her destiny in her hand. I’ll be honest, the film loses some of this magic without the shared experience of an audience, and it’s flaws are more noticeable. But being swept up in the excitement of adventure felt so darn good in 2015, and that’s so key to this franchise.

7. Revenge of the Sith Directed by George Lucas

This movie has risen so much in my opinion, entirely due to the animated Clone Wars series. Revenge of the Sith depicts the overwhelming tragedy that frames the original Star Wars. Watching Clone Wars explains explicitly what makes this film so tragic. But it’s more than that- it’s a catastrophic failure on behalf of the Jedi Order. Ignorance and pride allow evil to fester and grow. George Lucas took the simplicity of the moral struggle he established in 1977 and tried to give it depth and complexity with the prequels, and it pays off in Revenge of the Sith. It leads into the original trilogy quite brilliantly, with a promise of hope and resilience.

8. The Phantom Menace Directed by George Lucas

It has not aged well. While the advent of CGI I’m sure felt exciting at the time, and you almost can’t fault George Lucas for his insistence on staying at the forefront of VFX innovation as he has always done, it’s his reliance on so much of it that fails horribly. Like a kid in a candy store, Lucas stuffs the pockets of this film with so many bizarre effects for absolutely no reason. That sea monster scene is one of the worst displays I’ve ever seen and it’s absurd that it sits in a Star Wars film. Add to that the boring political plotline and ridiculous midichlorian dilemma and there’s very little redemptive about this film. However, it does have podracing, and Duel of the Fates, and it’s remarkable how much that salves the wound.

9. The Rise of Skywalker Directed by J. J. Abrams

Alright, well obviously this film has been problematic. However, I’m not about to bemoan the idea that Disney has ruined Star Wars and I have nothing left to live for. So let’s all just calm down. Ultimately J. J. Abrams was faced with the impossible task of wrapping up the Skywalker saga, with very few Skywalkers to work with. I firmly believe this would have been a very different film if Carrie Fisher was around to complete her performance. But left with nothing but the new cast, Abrams is caught between summing up the past while also looking to the future. It forces an awkward plotline with Palpatine- despite Ian McDiarmid's solid performance, the writing here seems wildly derivative of the franchise. There are some truly beautiful scenes, most notably the chemistry that Adam Driver gets to share with Harrison Ford, and Joonas Suotamo’s critically emotional outburst as Chewbacca. Some of the production design and score is so entirely different from the rest of the franchise it's inherently intriguing. But there’s very little here to save some of the poorer choices the film makes: the open plot hole with Finn, the derailing of Rey’s character development, and most crucially, the deeply perturbing culmination of Rey and Kylo’s relationship. The audience literally went “ew”.

10. Solo: A Star Wars Story Directed by Ron Howard

The biggest problem with Solo is that it operates under the presumption that people will be enamoured and invested in it. Not just in one movie, but in an entire series of movies. Solo clearly operates as a setup for further sequels. As a result, many plot lines remain unresolved, and Qi’ra winds up being a completely under-baked character. Her motivations make no sense, and a twist ending that I assume was supposed to be exciting is instead downright confusing. There’s a lot of unnecessary exposition into Han’s past too. As an origin story, I don’t need to know every aspect of Han’s past- especially not cute winks at inane things like “Why’s he called Solo?”. All this being said, The movie features some solid performances- Donald Glover is expectedly phenomenal as Lando, and Alden Ehrenreich excels as Solo, adding some welcome flavour to the character- particularly his friendship with Chewbacca, and a brilliantly executed final scene between him and Woody Harrelson’s Beckett.

11. Attack of the Clones Directed by George Lucas

How in the world this film made it all the way to production and into filming, with no one pulling Lucas aside and saying “Hey George, those kids have no chemistry” is beyond me. And I’m not going to blame Hayden Christensen or Natalie Portman on this one, because the whole damn love story makes no sense. Maybe falling for a dude who admits he murdered women and children isn’t such a great idea? Then there’s the increasingly convoluted political climate set up in Phantom Menace, and the machinations of the dark side that would take the entire Clone Wars series to fully explain. All this being said, Temuera Morrison, Samuel L. Jackson, Ewan MacGregor AND Christopher Lee are all in this movie. And they’re pretty damn fantastic.

12. The Clone Wars Directed by Dave Filoni

It’s inexplicable that Dave Filoni would go on to have a hand in some of the best Star Wars content ever made in Clone Wars, Rebels and the Mandalorian. And yet he got his start in the franchise by putting up this piece of junk. And junk is being a little generous. The humour is so juvenile it’s insulting to even the youngest of audiences it’s intended for. The plotline feels way to thin to warrant a feature film, and if this was in fact intended as a pilot for the TV series, they sure picked to most uninteresting story to pique our interest. Skip the movie, watch the show. 

[engineeredfiction]

A Stranger In the Galaxy Ch. 1

I took a bit longer on this because I was still trying to make up my mind if this should be a reader insert or an OC. Womp womp.

Rating is Teen for prologue and chapter 1 of part 1, which is also out! It will definitely change if you know what I mean. (nudge nudge wink wink)

Word count: 1.2k (it's a short one, chapter 2 is a chonker though)

Warnings: I didn’t edit this. Soz.

This AU is a crossover of Star Wars, Dune, and my own imagination. If you know/read the Dune series you’ll see similarities between the Sisterhood in this story and the one in Dune. Some are the same and even more modified. I can do what I want, it’s my world building.

Prologue

Part 1: The Way To Mandalore

Chapter 1: Dangerous Quarry

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Mando drummed his fingers on his thigh plate. Greef Karga told him to come in at this time and the man hasn’t shown up.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

He closed his eyes behind his helmet and his mind drifted elsewhere. He has no ship, no Grogu, and the tension between him and Bo-Katan Kryze was dangerously high. His thumb involuntarily ran across the hilt of the Darksaber. The weight of responsibility and history made the weapon heavier than what it actually weighed. If he had known about about it before capturing Moff Gideon, we would have grabbed Bo-Katan-

“Mando!” Greef’s voice pulled him back to the present. “I am sorry to keep you waiting. Clients keep me on my toes-”

“What’s the job?” Mando bluntly asked.

“Down to business as always,” Greef grinned. To his side he grabbed a glass and the bottle of spotchka. “I would offer you some, but I already know the answer.” He threw back his glass and exhaled loudly. “How’s the loaner working for you? Is she in good shape for another hunt?”

Mando thought about the beat up light gunship, Gida. It was older than he was, probably older than Greef. Yet, it ran better than the Razor Crest, most of the time. “She’s good. How many quarries do you have for me?”

Greef stopped mid pour of this second glass of spotchka. He hesitated, “One.”

“Is the work that slow?” Mando drawed out. He wanted his own ship and it seemed he would not get it any time soon.

Greef sipped his glass this time. “No, business has been steady. This bounty is the price of many.”

Mando didn’t respond.

“The quarry...doesn’t have one client. There are two who are asking for her. A New Republic science officer Lieutenant Kell Finnall, currently on Coruscant, he is offering four hundred thousand credits.” Mando’s entire body froze stiff. Greef could see that the air was sucked out of Mando’s lungs. “Tauris Security out on Lantillies, you’ve heard of them? They’re looking for the same person. They’re offering four hundred fifty thousand credits. Their first offer was considerably lower, I told them they had some competition. Well, they made a call a few minutes ago and raised it.”

“Why so high?” Mando breathed again. He was hesitant to know why, the last time he took on a high bounty he gained a son and became an enemy of the Empire.

“They didn’t give me the details. Uh, they both want the quarry unharmed and alive. No carbonite. The Republic officer did mention she could use deadly force, I’m sure nothing you can’t handle. But Tauris Security insisted she was extremely dangerous and had killed two of their guards.” Greef waited for a response that would never come. He pulled the puck out of his pocket as if it were delicate. “Apparently never had a chain code before...before coming across Finnall.” He pushed the puck towards Mando. “Now to decide where the quarry should go. New Republic or this company.”

“Never heard of Tauris Security. You have anything on them?”

“Not much. Just provide security details in the mid and outer rim. It’s legit.”

Mando cracked his knuckles and proposed his idea, “The bounty combined with the warning is interesting. She is either extremely dangerous or valuable.”

“Or both,” Greef interjected. He poured a third glass of spotchka. “I insist you take this quarry. I don’t trust anyone else. And the credits! For you! For me! You would be set for life and then some, a new ship, perhaps a home on Naboo? Now the choice, New Republic or Tauris? I’ll leave that up to you. Visit each of them first before you make your choice.”

Mando bit his tongue softly. His instincts told him to be cautious, but it didn’t give him fear. If this quarry is as dangerous as people are saying and I die, what of it? His mouth dried up and his stomach churned, but it excited him. The thrill and allure of danger and possible death gave him energy, life.

“I’ll take it, “ Mando stretched out his hand for the puck.

Greef slowly handed it over to him. “I would wish you good luck, but I know you don’t need it. Remember, keep her alive and safe-”

“-and no carbonite,” Mando repeated the requirement from earlier. He started to leave but Greef’s parting words stopped him.

“And Mando, come back and-” Greef stopped himself from mentioning The Kid, “we’ll have a drink to celebrate your success.”

The streets of Nevarro City were just as pleasant the last time he was here, with Grogu. Mando strode through the city, his destination was a shop that sold the supplies he needed. That little green womp rat and his ears. Mando knew he did the right thing, but the right thing felt so lonely and heavy. These were feelings he had not experienced in a long time and this deeply. If Grogu was the price of Beskar, what could this quarry be at four hundred thousand credits, four hundred fifty thousand credits.

Is she a Jedi? Like the one that took Grogu? I might not have a chance.

“Sir? Sir?” the shopkeeper shouted to grab Mando’s attention, he pointed to the stack of rations. ‘Are you ready?”

Mando looked down at the rations he held close to him. He was puzzled as to how he got to the store, picked up what he needed, and stood in line without remembering any of it. “Yes, sorry.” Mando placed the rations in the sack the shopkeeper offered up and pulled out his credit bag.

The lava flats weren’t too far off from where he landed Gida. The outside of the light gunner ship looked decent, if a bit old. Everything was attached properly and there were no signs of laser blasts. An aging Twi’lek, a friend of Greef’s, loaned him Gida.

“She’s seen her time,” the Twi’lek said as he patted the hull when Mando first saw the ship. “She might have a few bumps coming out of hyperspace, but nothing serious.”

I’ll keep that in mind.

Mando felt his shoulders slump as his chest seemed to increase in weight. The Darksaber felt alive and throbbing at his hip. He pushed a code on his vambraces and Gida’s side door opened. The wind was blowing, he knew that without having the tactical display on, the bits of dried dirt and pumicite swirled along the ground. An instant spark of curiosity sprung in him. He placed the bag of goods by the entrance of the ship, his helmet followed. Mando took a deep breath, the air smelled acrid. The breeze whipped around his head, soft like something he couldn’t remember the name of. All the time he has spent on Nevarro, he never saw the lava flats with his own eyes. The lava was bright orange, the cooler parts jet black. It was an ugly boring sight to behind. Dust, dull mountains, browns, blacks, and orange from the lava, but they seemed richer in colour without the helmet. He inhaled again, savouring the pungent smells, smells he never experienced before. His eyes poured over the landscape the last time before he hopped into the ship.

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[nighttmaire-writing]

FAHC: Sweet Sauce

This is my first time writing for the FAHC. I haven’t really ever written anything like this before, but after reading some of the stories on Tumblr and watching a GTA I had missed from months ago, I was inspired to cover a duo that I haven’t seen on here. Hope you enjoy!

Axial never really goes in the field. Not because he doesn’t want to, nor because he’d be incredibly less effective than any of the others. He tends to hang back to work on the comms and hacking for the team because he knows he’s the best at it. No one else could co-ordinate the communication between the chaos within The Fakes, it takes someone with a will of steel like him to ignore all of the snark and push back with both authority and advice. He also knew that, without specific instructions, no one else in the gang could hack into any targeted building like he could. He also is one of the best at on-the-fly adapting when shit goes south and a plan needs to change. When it comes to field duty, however, he makes exceptions on special occasions. In particular, he will go into the field if requested. 

As it turns out, Matt’s actually pretty adept in at more than just communications, planning and hacking. He’s a stellar driver. This fact wasn’t well known to The Fakes until he trounced them in another Mario Kart tournament, to which a drunk and furious Mogar loudly proclaimed that he could outrace Axial in real life any day of the week. Once everyone was sober, Michael doubled down – and got beaten by Axial. It was a close race, since Michael was brilliant at driving, but Axial had something he didn’t. Knowledge. The hacker knew the city like the back of his hand due to his life on the streets, and once he was told the destination he knew every turn and how to safely make them. Everyone was stunned, as Michael shook Matt's hand with a smirk, calling him a piece of shit. 

Matt only drove for the crew on missions when requested personally, leaving his communications job to The Boss while he would hack remotely from the car. He’s only ever done so for three people, up until this point. Once for Rimmy Tim, since he knew it would be fun. Once for The Golden Boy, because he knew he’d get a good laugh out of it. And once for The Sauce. Almost everything in The Fakes was an unofficial competition. Who got the most kills on a job, who could escape the cops the quickest, even who could piss off The Vagabond first. And there was no one more competitive in the group than Alfredo. Even though these contests meant little-to-nothing, they meant everything to him. He had to win.  And, most of the time, he would. So, when he was told the next job involved multiple hits at different locations, utilising teams of one gunman and one driver, he knew exactly who was going to drive him. 

Convincing Matt wasn’t as hard as The Sauce had thought. Deep down, he had a competitive streak that was just shy of Alfredo’s. All it took was the promise of victory over Gavin, Jeremy and even The Vagabond to convince him. It was getting everyone else on board with having one of their least experienced members in the field to leave the penthouse, to go on a mission with just one other person, that was harder. They knew he could handle the driving job, but they also figured there must be a reason he locked himself in his room during a Heist. The pressure could get to him, and that could get one or both of them hurt. Besides, he’d only ever driven before and this particular job required the use of covering fire from the driver to assist in the gunman’s run inside. As far as The Fakes knew, Axial had no training with a gun. 

With a face that reminded the others of the calm before a storm, Matt pulled out a pistol no one had ever seen on him and cleanly shot three of The Kingpins most expensive vases on the other side of the room in as many shots. As he put his gun away without a word, everyone was quick to agree – Axial was on the mission. 

The robbery teams were; Axial and The Sauce, or 'Sweet Sauce’; Supernova and The Golden Boy, or 'Chungə'; and Rimmy Tim and The Vagabond, or 'The Battle Buddies'. Each team would be simultaneously hitting a different building. Each building was the home of one of the many idiotic celebrities living in Los Santos, those with lots of money and little security. The plan was to steal as much expensive looking gear and/or cash as possible and leave. This was, in turn, a distraction for the main job. With the simultaneous big-name robberies, the police would be spread incredibly thin, allowing Mogar and the Pilot, or 'The Betting Buddies', to 'covertly' enter LSPD headquarters to locate and take information the cops have compiled on The Fakes. Or, as covertly as one could do a job like this with Michael. 

Once Alfredo had recruited Matt to his team, he began to really play up the sense of rivalry they all had. He made sure they all knew the newly christened ‘Sweet Sauce’ were planning on doing everything the best. Fastest to the house, fastest in, most cash grabbed, fastest back to HQ. He enthused with the utmost confidence how they were going to destroy everyone – with a silent grinning Axial standing behind him. The others eventually got riled up enough that they laid down a bet. The team who did each aspect of the job the best would win $1000. Everyone involved in the job, even The Boss and The Wildcard who would both be staying at the penthouse as comms and backup respectively, put in cash to make a prize pool of $3000. Due to the constant feed that would be going to The Boss, he was going to be in charge of timing each team’s work. Michael and Jack then began a betting pool to see who would win the most cash, for those who weren’t participating to have some fun too. In the end, only The Kingpin placed a bet on Sweet Sauce. Everyone thought Matt too inexperienced and Alfredo too cocky. But, for some reason, Geoff saw something different. 

The job was simple, and it went off without a hitch. Each team did their job even better than they normally would, since they had a lot riding on it. Chungə tried to focus on just getting one part as fast as possible. As such, they broke every speed limit and ran every red light to get to their house the fastest. And they succeeded, beating both Sweet Sauce and The Battle Buddies to their destination, both earning $500.  

The Battle Buddies, however, wanted to humble Alfredo, and figured with Matt on the job it would be fairly easy. Even so, not wanting to take the risk, they tried their hardest at getting each aspect as quick as possible, with Rimmy behind the wheel and The Vagabond storming the woefully unprepared home to rob it of as much as he could, before they raced home at record pace. 

They were shocked to see Sweet Sauce had arrived in the garage just seconds before them, with two full duffel bags of loot. Axial and The Sauce had worked incredibly well together, even more so under pressure. It was Matt’s idea for them to take a gamble and both storm the house. If it worked, they’d clear it quicker and they could steal double the gear. The risk was potentially losing their car, which was one of The Sauce’s personal vehicles. Shockingly, he didn’t bat an eye at the idea. Even if, at most, he was only going to make $1500 on this bet and would be losing a far more expensive car the victory itself would be absolutely worth it. And so, they executed their plan to perfection. Axial found the most simplistic and expedient route to their target, they both entered the premises with guns blazing, loaded up their bags and left in complete unison with Alfredo behind the wheel, Axial giving him directions from the passenger seat. Even though he was famously not as good at driving, the two of them wanted to rub in their victory. Matt and Alfredo had just gotten $1000 richer. 

Their victory in two of the three categories had pipped Geoff as the biggest victor in the betting pool, winning a cool $400. After returning from the successful police headquarters heist, Michael was thrilled to learn he won $200 by betting on Chungə. Everyone else don’t make any winnings by betting on ‘the sure bet’ of The Battle Buddies, much to Jack’s dismay. 

This was not the first time that Axial would work out in the field with The Sauce. Doing this job was one of the many reasons that the resident computer expert had decided to be out in the field. It didn’t hurt when The Vagabond tried desperately to earn his winnings back, and The Sauce requested his assistance again. They wouldn’t always work together, but whenever they did it was damn near impossible to top them. 

Hope you guys liked it! I don't know how much FAHC I will be writing, but this was a fun thing I liked in my head. I might try to write more dialogue next time. This sort of recount style fit this story but I want to try my hand at figuring out these characters a little more. If I do more, I think I'll probably focus on Axial/Matt. No surprise, but the boys my favourite.

[rrrawrf-writes]

retirement

this is for @gingerly-writing. it was supposed to be for her birthday. then i didn’t write anything for six months. but now here we are.

---

“If you’d wanted me to attend your party, you could have just sent an invitation.”

Suijade looked up, a bit startled, and then stood abruptly, his chair scooting back, as Gloria Delgado smiled at him. For a woman in her eighties, she looked elegant - and recognizable as none other than Morning Glory. She didn’t have to wear a suit. A long, slim white silk dress with the unmistakable prints of cherry blossoms and the creeping, flowering vine that gave her her alias, wrapped around a body that should have belonged to a younger woman.

A much younger woman. Gloria may have had laugh lines and crow’s feet, but she looked like she hadn’t aged past her forties. 

Suijade instinctively reached out to his ropes, but stopped himself, as Gloria simply smiled at him. He hadn’t seen her in person in years. Very few people had. Her brown skin was a beautiful contrast against her straight, snow-white hair, cut in a bob that curved slightly around her face. Suijade stood in front of superhero royalty, and all that Gloria was missing was the crown.

“Please, don’t let me make you stand,” she said warmly, pulling out a chair across from him and taking a seat. She smiled and gestured towards his chair, as if this were her party. “Sit.”

Suijade sat.

Her brown eyes regarded him with a hidden laugh; her voice was warm and honey smooth as she spoke. “This is a wonderful event. And I quite appreciate the cause - a charity ball for the conservation of local wildlife. Tell me,” she drew one of the still-full winegasses from Suijade’s side of the table to hers, and took a sip; he resisted the urge to tell her that it was for his fiance. “Did you arrange this for the irony, or was that a happy coincidence?”

Suijade finally found his voice. “It’s rather brave of you to come here alone, Mrs. Delgado.”

She smiled at him over the rim of her glass. “As I said,” she pointed out, “you wanted me to come.”

“I would have preferred different circumstances,” Suijade admitted. He doubted he would see them, but he looked out over the crowd for any sign of the people he’d sent to fetch Gloria in the first place. His table was one of several on a balcony overlooking the celebration; it was otherwise empty, as the people in the hall below them chatted, danced, and ate their fill. 

“Then you should have come yourself, Lariat,” Gloria chided. “I’m sure the end result would have been very different.”

If Gloria had been sixty years younger, Suijade suspected she would have rolled her eyes. The sarcasm still carried without the gesture, and he took a bit larger of a drink than he really should have. 

“I believe that the end result will turn in my favor, now that you’re here,” Suijade said. “I appreciate how much easier you’ve made this for me.”

Gloria let out a soft chuckle, and propped her chin in her hand. “Oh, no, darling, it’s rather the other way around. You see, you’re trapped.”

Suijade arched his eyebrows. “Pardon?”

Gloria’s smile grew a touch wider. “You’re trapped,” she repeated, and gestured around them with her glass of wine. “By societal convention.”

“Please explain.”

Gloria gave him a warm look, took another sip, then set down her glass and straightened. “Everyone,” she said, “knows who I am. And those here who don’t recognize me yet, will soon. It’s rather expected for heroes - even retired ones - to kick up a fuss at these events. Though,” she added, “I really would prefer not to. I haven’t been invited to much of anything for years, and this is quite enjoyable.”

“I would prefer not to have a fuss at my party, either,” Sujiade said dryly. “Mrs. Delgado, you seem to have quite the monologue prepared.”

“Please be patient with me, my dear,” Gloria said. “As I said, I haven’t been out and about in years.”

Suijade couldn’t help a smile, and he tipped his glass towards her. “Well, then, please continue. I would hate to curtail your enjoyment.”

Giving him a maternal smile, Gloria reached across the table and warmly patted his hand. “Thank you, darling. I have no need to hide my identity, or my powers. You, however, cannot make a scene without revealing yours.”

That was true. Suijade observed her over the rim of his glass, straight-faced. “I have been known for my subtlety, Mrs. Delgado.”

“I am aware.” Gloria glanced around the room. “But it is a touch more difficult to hide ropes at such an event as this, isn’t it? Let’s see - you have the curtains, of course,” she waved her hands towards the fabric pulled back from the high arching windows. Suijade had, indeed, added ropes to hold them back, as much aesthetic decoration as a potential weapon; more ropes hung behind them. “If I were here to cause a fuss,” Gloria continued, “I would also suspect the vents in the room, and the high ceilings. I’ve had to use those hiding places for my own purposes, before.”

“You’re very observant.”

“I’m very old,” Gloria corrected with a smile, “and I’ve seen every trick in the book, Lariat. Even yours.”

Suijade gestured to the one server waiting on the balcony with them, though she was far enough away not to hear anything. He and Gloria waited for the server to refill their glasses, and Gloria thanked her warmly before the waitress stepped away again.

“Mrs. Delgado,” Suijade said, after a moment. He resettled himself in his chair. “I do not rely solely on my powers. I have always considered that a weakness.”

“And so you would like to tell me that my focus on your powers is a similar weakness,” Gloria guessed with a smile. Suijade nodded, once. “This is true, and very wise of you, Lariat. Though you should be cautious of your use of the word always,” she added, a twinkle in her eyes. “I remember when you thought that your only strength.”

“Would it be inaccurate of me to suppose that you are focusing on your own strengths at this moment?” Suijade said. This evening was taking an odd turn, but he found the conversation refreshing - and, admittedly, somewhat flattering. There were not many these days who had the opportunity to speak so frankly with the woman who had been the first to show superpowers - and become the first superhero. 

“It would not,” Gloria confirmed. “But, it would also be accurate to say that you, Lariat, are outgunned.”

He frowned.

Gloria straightened with a smile. “You have done me the wonderful favor of ensuring that I have more than enough ammunition, Lariat.”

Her eyes drifted towards the vase of flowers in the center of the table. Suijade shifted slightly. It was only a single vase of flowers -

A single vase of flowers on every table in the large hall. Several clustering end tables. Displays along the wall showing realistic dioramas of the local environments they were trying to save. Small indoor, decorative trees and plants that were real, because if Suijade was going to sponsor an event, he wasn’t going to use plastic for anything.

He had arranged his own trap.

“I presume you had all of these roses dethorned, of course,” Gloria mused, reaching a hand out to the vase. Her fingers curled around a soft green rose, and the smooth stem sprouted slender, sharp thorns as she pulled the flower away from its fellows. “That’s really a shame. You can’t properly appreciate something without experiencing all aspects of its creation.”

“They came that way,” Suijade said numbly. He hadn’t really paid much attention to the flower decorations. He had people for that. He suppressed the urge to look around for his security, to check again just in case Gloria had brought someone with her, and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Mrs. Delgado, my associates - ?”

“Ah.” Gloria set the rose aside. “They’ll have been arrested, by now. I was vague on the details when I called the police. I tried to avoid hurting them as best as I could.”

Of course she had. “I appreciate that. They were only doing their jobs.”

Gloria smiled. Her gaze drifted over the celebration below them, following the attendees in their suits and gowns. It was hardly a news-worthy event, simply some of the local rich folks around the state that Suijade and his fiance had convinced to back the charity.

“Lariat, if you’re going to send others out to do what no one else can do better than you, you really should retire.”

He startled, looking up at her. “I’m sorry?”

She set down her glass, a slight smirk touching her green-coated lips. “Oh, you could join my book club.” Gloria’s expression brightened at the thought. 

Suijade stared. “Your… book club.”

“Yes. We just met last week, and we’re starting a new book. This is the perfect time.” She straightened. “I think you would enjoy it. We’re reading one of Robin Kimmerer’s books this month. Braiding Sweetgrass.”

Had she gone senile? She was eighty years old, at least, and Morning Glory had taken a lot of hits during her career.

Judging by the slight smile on her face, Gloria could guess at what Suijade was thinking. “Well, at least consider the idea,” she said, and finished off her glass of wine. “Who was it, Lariat?”

Suijade blinked, and shifted again. “Who was who?”

Gloria looked at him. “I know that there is no reason for you to hold me ransom, Lariat. I have no riches, and I’m not that valuable a public figure any more.”

“You shouldn’t sell yourself so short, Mrs. Delgado.” Suijade flagged the server down again, asking her to refill Gloria’s glass as he regained his feet in this odd conversation. “We would all be poorer without your presence.”

She gave him a fond smile as the server left them again. “Except you. How much richer would you be?”

Suijade smiled back at her. “Quite a bit, Morning Glory.” And considering the money Suijade already had, that was certainly saying something. He could retire their server’s father, the poor man. Suijade knew he worried about her university tuition.

“Mmm. And who will be to blame for your sudden increase in charitable donations?” Gloria asked with a smile. Suijade sat back in his chair, but before he could think of a non-answer to give her, he spotted his fiance over Gloria’s shoulder.

Jesse, of course, had the worst timing, as always.

He stood up with a smile regardless, and he didn’t even have to fake it - seeing Jesse enjoying himself was a pleasant contrast to the work Suijade had to deal with. Jesse had his hearing aids in, but Suijade still signed a greeting to him.

“Oh, Jesse, hello again,” Gloria said brightly, getting to her feet a beat after Suijade. He shot her a startled look, and bit his tongue. “I’m sorry for disappearing on you earlier, I found an old friend I wanted to say hello to.”

“That’s all right, Mrs. Delgado,” Jesse said brightly, his voice just a touch too loud, the words just a touch too close together. Suijade still hadn’t heard anything he loved more. He pressed his lips together when Jesse offered a hug to Gloria first, but he really couldn’t blame either of them - Suijade had always been the one with more reservations about displays of affection.

Jesse at least broke away to come over and kiss Suijade, very briefly, on the corner of his jaw. “I didn’t realize the two of you knew each other,” Jesse said brightly. He reached down to steal Suijade’s glass, and Suijade let him. 

“Well, it’s been quite a while since we’ve seen each other,” Gloria said warmly. 

“I’m more surprised the two of you know each other,” Suijade remarked, though at this point, he really shouldn’t be. Jesse somehow always knew the oddest people, but tonight, Jesse shook his head.

“We only met tonight,” he said. “I wish we had known each other before, I absolutely would have invited you.” Jesse gave Gloria a bright smile. 

Of course he would have. 

They all took a seat again, Jesse sitting as close to Suijade as he could manage it. The server appeared without being asked, bringing another glass and refilling the others before she ghosted away again. Suijade had hoped this would be the last event she’d have to play caterer at, and then she could simply focus on her studies, but with Morning Glory here as a guest, rather than a captive, Suijade supposed he’d have to find some other source of a bonus for her father.

Well. He could still find a way, he was sure. He was Lariat, after all, even if Gloria was right.

Sorry for not being down there with you, Suijade signed briefly to Jesse, under the edge of the table. He didn’t know if Gloria knew sign language, but he wouldn’t be surprised. Work came up.

That’s all right, Jesse signed back, before taking one of Suijade’s hands and leaning against him. “Are you enjoying the party, Mrs Delgado?”

“It’s lovely,” Gloria assured him. “I especially adore the decorations. You’ve both truly outdone yourself tonight.”

“Have you seen the gardens?” Jesse asked eagerly. “The people who own this place have been working on them for decades.”

“No, not yet,” Gloria said, though she perked up just as eagerly as Jesse. “But I would like to.”

“Jesse,” Suijade started, but Gloria had already swept to her feet; Jesse bounced up, too, like an eager puppy. Suijade started to stand.

“Let me show you,” Jesse said excitedly, before Suijade could make any attempt at heading off this adventure. Turning, Jesse gestured for Suijade to stay seated, adding, “No, Suijade, it’s fine. I’ll be right back, I promise.”

Gloria slipped her arm through Jesse’s, and smiled past him to Suijade. “You should really consider my invitation,” she told him warmly. “Jesse, hold on juuuust a moment.”

She hovered her hand over the flowers in the vase, deliberating a moment between colors before she pulled another of the pale green roses. Suijade shoved down the urge to leap across the table as Gloria fussily slipped it through Jesse’s lapel, cooing over how well it matched his shirt.

Jesse, of course, was delighted, and he half-turned to show Suijade with a grin. Suijade did not miss the single thorn on the stem.

“Who was that friend of yours you wanted me to meet, Suijade?” Gloria asked, the lines around her eyes crinkling with a warm smile.

Suijade’s grip wrinkled the tablecloth. Jesse looked to him, and Suijade forced himself to relax, pushing a tense smile onto his face. Looking good, he signed quickly to Jesse. His fiance beamed.

Suijade knew that Gloria wouldn’t hurt Jesse. Of all the capes he’d ever dealt with, Morning Glory was the one he trusted most not to make good on a threat against a civilian. But it wasn’t about whether she’d hurt Jesse or not - it was about whether Suijade was willing to take that chance, miniscule though it may be, with the man he loved.

He wasn’t.

“Ah. Percy Banks,” he said, glancing past them to the people below. “He is very keen to make your acquaintance.” And all of Banks’ money in the world wasn’t enough to make endangering Jesse worth it. Suijade did not want to make the mistake of trusting Morning Glory’s public reputation. She was not one of the more predictable superheroes.

“Thank you.” Gloria beamed at Jesse. “Shall we?”

Suijade watched the two of them go, then sighed. He drained his glass, then wearily waved over the server to refill it, again. She looked at him, then just set the bottle on the table. Suijade let out a soft laugh.

“Thank you, Maria,” he murmured, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He was sure no one would notice if he dipped his hands into the charity till for her tuition. If she kept him supplied like this, he would. 

With a sigh, he sat back in his chair. Retirement. He’d thought about it for some time, and he knew it would make Jesse happy. And Suijade carried out his own plans less and less these days. Maybe Gloria was right - it could have ended very differently if he’d gone after her himself, instead of trusting to his employees.

It could have ended with him hurt, or worse, and Jesse left alone, waiting for him to come home. Suijade closed his eyes for a moment.

Then he pulled out his phone, and looked up Robin Kimmerer.

[collecting-stories]

Enchanted - Gilbert Blythe

Request: Okay great! Can I request a Gilbert blythe x reader when they’re dating but then reader sees Anne and Gilbert having a friendly hug and she misinterprets it as something else and Gilbert tries to apologize. in the end they make up and it’s all fluff?

A/N: Based off Gilbert Blythe from the Netflix adaptation Anne With An E. 

\\\

The train ride in from Toronto was both longer and shorter than you wanted it to be. Gilbert sat beside you, fiddling with the cufflinks on his jacket sleeves as the train jostled along toward Avonlea. There had been a ferry ride from Halifax as well. The summer was setting in and Gilbert had asked you to come to Avonlea with him to meet his business partner and housemate Bash and Bash’s daughter Delphine.

“Ever since my father died, they’ve been my family.” Gilbert had explained.  

There were other people he had mentioned as well. Friends from school, Moody, Diana, a girl called Ruby who had been obsessed with him in her youth.  

“I didn’t know it at the time, obviously, but Moody’s told me in great detail.” A whole anthology of his life had been shared with you since September.  

And then there were the Cuthberts. He mentioned Marilla and her brother Matthew, both having been good to him when his father passed. But most of all he spoke of Anne. Close friends and rivals throughout their years together, she seemed to be the antidote to every story he told. The heroine in all his tales of the Island. And while you were excited to meet her, you would have been lying to say that you were also terrified. Who was this Anne and how could you compare to someone as magnanimous as her?  

You weren’t sure if the knowledge that you would be staying with the Cuthberts made it worse or better. He had written to Anne to ask if you could board there for the summer while you visited him, a mark of a serious courtship surely, but still you couldn’t find yourself totally calm during the ride.  

“Are the Cuthberts meeting us at the station?” You chanced to ask, realizing that you weren’t entirely sure what was going to happen once you arrived in Avonlea.  

When Gilbert had asked you to come home with him for the summer you had been surprised and, though you hated to admit it, a tad bit reluctant. You and Gilbert had met through a friend of a friend way back in September at the beginning of the school. Both students from small towns who had excelled. Both formerly betrothed, though you more than he, who had rebelled against the prospect of a richer future in the interest of an educated, self-fulfilling future. A rather progressive woman, in action and speech more than trend, like so many of the women who had been present in his life before.  

“I’m not entirely sure how I should go about this,” he had started, already proving himself to be clueless when it came to courting, “I’ve been to tea before and I’m sad to say I’ve forgotten all the rules.” The easy smile made up for his forgetfulness.  

You could hardly remember either, getting lost in the romantic nature of his eyes that Ruby and Anne had both experienced in his early school days. “It’s quite alright, surely between the two of us we can navigate.”

And so you did. Navigate. Through the beginnings of a relationship and the beginning of college. It was odd, to find someone who so championed your education and put priority on the finishing of college before anything else. You expected him to treat the relationship casually then, just friends who knew that they liked each other. But he didn’t. He was serious about it and, as such, invited you to visit for the summer.  

“I can’t wait for you to see Avonlea.” Gilbert mentioned, eyes fixed on the passing landscape.  

“I’m looking forward to it.” And you were. Spending more time with Gilbert, seeing where he was from, meeting the people he considered part of his family. That all sounded spectacular to you.  

-

The train arrived in Avonlea a short time later. Gilbert exited before you in search of the luggage.

“It’s never where they say it will be.”

You stood, waiting for him, on the platform. You’d taken plenty of trains in your lifetime but somehow stepping onto the platform in Avonlea felt different. It was as if you were a child again, riding for the first time, nervous of your surroundings and unsure who to ask for help. It was all very overwhelming and in an instant, the bustling crowd had seemed to swallow Gilbert up, his figure disappearing behind a cloud of smoke. You considered calling out to him. Should you chance him realizing that you were having the most pathetic of panic attacks.  

Off to a good start in Avonlea.  

Through the smog and the voices for the crowd your ears caught the distinctive sound of an accent, one native to an island, calling Gilbert’s name. You remembered his stories about his business partner and practical brother Bash and decided the Gilbert being called was yours. Heading through the smoke you arrived on the other side to find a small gathering of people, Gilbert at the front of them. You had come through in just enough time to see a young woman with long red hair hug him. A much friendlier hug then you would have expected someone to give, even with small town etiquette not being as reserved as the city.  

But you recognized that redhead immediately, regardless of never having seen her before. It was Anne, it had to be. The Anne that Gilbert had talked about from school. The Anne that he corresponded with.  

“Oh, gosh, I’m so sorry I was just coming to get you.” Gilbert’s hand at your wrist and his sincere apology carried you back to the reality of the platform. You were standing there, center of attention now.  

“Quite alright.” You smiled, filing the uneasiness away for later. You would be upset when you were alone. Though would you truly be alone? You were to stay with Anne after all.

“Let me introduce you.” And just like that Gilbert was going through the odd, makeshift family that he had assembled. You were hugged by Anne as well, and nearly everyone else. Bash teased that there would be plenty of appraising done that night over dinner though you seemed to win him over quite easily when you offered to hold Delphine during the ride back to Gilbert’s farm.  

Try as you might the carriage ride home filled you with dread. Even Delphine couldn’t distract you from the tortuous thoughts in your head. Had you come all this way to Prince Edward Island with Gilbert only to have him tell you he loved another. And what if he never told you, what if he just continued on, in some elaborate rouse where you were his intended (something he had made perfectly clear before proposing the idea of PEI) but he was thinking of someone else. Someone who had leagues more history with him than you could every accumulate.  

The first stop, once the carriage had arrived outside of the Blythe family farm, was the tour. While Bash took Delphine inside Gilbert took you along the grounds. Your hand was tucked in the crook of his elbow as he walked you about, pointing out parts of the land and supplying humorous antidotes to accompany the visuals.  

“And here Anne,” he began, telling the third story in a row that featured his redheaded best friend.  

“You have a lot of stories about Anne.”

“I suppose so.”

“More than anyone else.” You continued on. You were no longer on the train platform or in the carriage. You wouldn’t stay a moment longer to be second fiddle to Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, however charming she had already proven herself to be.  

“I...hadn’t noticed.”

“Well, unfortunately,” you took your hand back, here in the orchard grove, “I have. I didn’t come all the way from Toronto to be humiliated Gilbert.”

He looked rightfully confused. Everything until now had felt perfectly normal between the two of you. He’d hadn’t sensed the change in attitude, in fact it had come out of nowhere to hit him in the gut. “I don’t know what you mean?”

“Don’t you? I make a world of excuses for your correspondence with another woman, knowing how much Anne means to you but then we arrive here and it feels as if I've been making those excuses to myself as well. Have I? Am I so delusional to think that it’s only friendship you feel for her?” You confessed, thinking back to the hug at the platform. The way she had thrown her arms around him in excitement.  

“Anne and I are just friends. I’ve told you that.” Gilbert replied.

“Why don’t I feel like that?”  

“Avonlea is my home and the people here are my family. I love and care for them all deeply. And that’s why I wanted to bring you here. So you could know them too and so you could consider if, maybe, in the future, you could make Avonlea your home too. I love you, and I meant what I said before we came out here. I want a future with you, a family with you, and I want us to make a home. Here, if you could see yourself here.” Gilbert said, concern marring his features. Had he not been clear?

You crossed your arms and turned your head away, looking out passed the rolling fields of the farm. What could you say? You loved him too. The thought of starting a family with him here, on this island, was a wonderful thought and you wanted nothing more than to be part of his life.  

“Once, when I was much younger, I admit I felt something toward Anne but we’re only friends. She’s been a big part of my life since she came to Avonlea and helped me become the person I am. A person who loves you. Who would never hurt you. Please, you have to believe me. Anne is my friend but you and I...you’re the person I imagine spending the rest of my life with.” Gilbert continued.

“I love you as well...I guess I’m just nervous to be here. To meet your family and friends and know them.” You admitted, looking back at him. Gilbert looked near heartbreak, his usual bright eyes a sad, drowning, blue.  

“They love you already, trust me.”

“I really do like Anne...I think we would be great friends.” You had heard certain parts of her letters read allowed when he found bits funny or was reminded of something you might have said. You had thought that she sounded like she could become a good friend of yours, someone you could rely on here in Avonlea and you had looked forward to meeting. “I think I’m just so nervous I made myself jealous.”

“There is nothing to be jealous of.” Gilbert reassured. “Shall we finish the tour?”

“Please? I want to see everything before dinner.” You replied, taking the arm he offered once more. You looked back around the orchard one more time, “are we alone?”

“Bash is at the house with Delly.”

With that knowledge you leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “Alright, show me the rest of this enchanted island.” You said, using Anne’s words from earlier. Enchanted. You imagined this summer would be.

-

I imagined this being done yesterday but my youngest sister decided to give me a minor panic attack and I spent most of the day freaking out when I meant to be writing. 

[jeranasblog]

Not good enough for you

Summary: When a stranger accuses Tony of taking advantage of Peter, the Omega wants to cheer him up. 

Rating: E

Notes: This story is my 11th @starkercestevent​ contribution and it might be better to read the other parts first. Kink for the 11th story: Cock Worship (didn’t stick to the kink that much though xD). Click here for the Bingo Masterlist.

Warnings: Adoptive Father/Adoptive Son, don’t like it, don’t read it

Read on Ao3

It happened on the only day Peter came home before Tony. Peter’s classes had ended early since one of his professors gave a lecture on his research topic in another country, and his friends had accompanied him on his way home. Although Tony finished a lot of work at home these days, he was still obligated to show up in the office every now and then, so Peter was alone when he opened the door and he was alone when he found the piece of paper. 

 He didn’t see it at first. Like every day, he hung up his jacket and made himself a cup of coffee before he went back into the living room, crossing the hallway, and therefore the front door as well. On the floor was a small piece of paper someone has probably slipped under the door. It was a folded page of a notebook that was ripped out, with two handwritten words in the middle.

 Two days.

 Peter immediately knew who send the paper and froze in fear. How had Pierce passed the security man in front of their secluded building? Tony had given them instructions not to let a single unfamiliar face pass the door. He clenched his hands to fists, accidentally crumpling the piece of paper he was holding in his hand. He checked the lock again, making sure the door wouldn’t open, and it stayed shut. When Pierce had managed to enter the building, he could easily enter the apartment as well.

 Shivering, Peter sat down on the couch, his coffee already forgotten and cold. He waited for his Daddy, waited for someone who could tell him what to do, and when he finally heard a key in the lock, tension fell from his shoulders. Peter didn’t even have to say a word before Tony knew something was wrong and the Alpha sat next to him, pulling him into an embrace.

 “What happened?”

 Peter didn’t answer and showed him the piece of paper that was still clutched in his fist. Tony took and unfolded it until he could read the words again. His jaw twitched, but he stayed calm otherwise, hugging Peter even closer. 

 “I won’t let you go to your classes anymore, baby,” his words were certain, leaving no room for discussion. “You’ll stay with me. You’ll go to work with me. I’ll keep you safe.”

 Peter didn’t even want to argue, he was totally fine staying with his Alpha 24/7. “Yes, Daddy.”

 “I will speak with a few of my colleagues, tomorrow. We’re going to find something, anything that threatens Pierce enough to let you go. I protect you, baby, I promise. Please, just listen to me, okay?”

 Peter nodded and pressed a kiss against his Daddy’s lips. He wanted to be protected, wanted to be safe. His Daddy would find a way to get rid of Pierce and in the meantime, Peter only had to stay with him. Still, in the back of his mind, he could hear Pierce’s voice. ‘Only two days left. Come to me or I will find you.’ Peter closed his eyes and inhaled his Daddy’s calming scent. No need to panic, he had to trust his Daddy. 

 Since Tony didn’t let Peter out of his eyes anymore, they did everything together. They went to work together, they went grocery shopping together, and Peter even accompanied him when Tony picked up his suit from the laundry service. His servants had forgotten to pick it up in time for the business meeting with the German Strategic Sales Manager of a supplier company, and Tony had decided to do things himself. Unfortunately, all parking spots close to the laundry service where taken, so they had to walk a while and Tony carried the suit over his arm. 

 Shortly before they got back to the car, a woman, who had watched them for quite some time, crossed their way and snapped at Tony. “Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? Corrupting your own kid and showing him off for anyone to see after?” 

 Tony was taken aback and could only stare at her, unable to respond. Before she could accuse him further, Peter decided to step in. “Excuse me, Mam,” his voice was soft and deescalating. “I don’t think it’s your place to judge.”

 Her expression changed and anger turned into pity. “Oh, poor little Omega. I’ve read everything about your ‘relationship’ online.” Her voice changed when she said ‘relationship’. “It’s not your fault that this- this child molester uses you. You don’t have to stay with him just because he pays for you. You could always lookout for help. There are tons of people willing to support you. Omegas don’t have to depend on Alphas anymore.”

 Tony growled, but still didn’t say anything, leaving Peter to deal with the situation. He chose his next words wisely, didn’t want to make a fuss in public. “It’s considerate of you that you wanna help me, and it’s right that Omegas doesn’t depend on Alphas anymore, but I want to be with Tony. It’s my free decision. We aren’t even actually related, you know?”

 But as nice as Peter had tried to be, the woman didn’t want to listen. “He’s forcing you to say this, isn’t he? Poor baby, I can help you right now. You don’t have to stay with him.”

 “Don’t call him ‘baby’,” the Alpha was snapping, but he still didn’t answer to the accusations. 

 Immediately, the woman’s expression turned angry again. “You stay quiet, you bastard. You’re sick, he’s twenty years younger than you. You raised him. How dare you touch him?”

 Slowly, Peter could feel how anger bubbled up inside him. Tony was still quiet, and the silence worried Peter. Usually, his Daddy was fierce, defending Peter whenever it was necessary, but now he was only standing there, the words of the woman washing over him. Seeing that the Alpha wasn’t even reacting, made Peter only angrier. 

 “No, you listen to me now,” he pointed his finger at the woman, his voice raised and ice-cold. He had never been so angry before in his entire life and he could see in her face that she was shocked by his temper. “It’s my life and my decision. I’m sick of people trying to help me because they think they know me better than I know myself. I. Love. Tony. And as long as our relationship is legal, none of you pretentious little hypocrites have any right to intervene. Just get your sorry ass away from here and. Leave. Us. Alone.” 

 He had successfully dumfounded her and she was gaping at him like a fish before she scoffed and walked away. Peter sighed. She finally left. But one gaze at Tony confirmed that the damage was already done. “I love you, Daddy. Nothing is wrong about this. You know that, don’t you?” 

 Tony smiled, but it wasn’t carefree as usual but forced. “Sure, baby.”

 Peter decided to leave it be until they were at home. He didn’t want everyone on the street to know about Tony’s thoughts and feelings, and he definitely didn’t want to distract the Alpha while he was driving, so he held back until the door of the apartment finally closed behind them. Tony had tried to be normal during the ride, joking and talking like he always did, but the car was clouded by his scent, revealing how sad he truly was. 

  Once they were alone, Peter couldn’t hold back anymore. He pushed his Daddy onto the couch and the Alpha didn’t expect his dominance, so he didn’t stop him. Peter climbed in his lap and wrapped his arms around Tony’s neck, pressing himself to his Daddy’s chest.

 “I love you. So much,” Peter whispered into his ear. “Tell me you don’t believe any of the shit this old bag uttered.” 

 “I don’t believe any of the shit this old bag uttered.” Tony tried to joke, but his voice was too tight to sound funny. Peter knew immediately that he just wanted to distract, so he pulled back enough to give him a berated gaze. 

 The Alpha sighed and lowered his gaze, but his mask fell off and his real feelings came to the surface. He looked hurt. Hurt and… disgusted? “Baby, I know she wasn’t wrong,” Tony said slowly. “I know I didn’t force you, I know you want this and I know you love me. But don’t you see the power imbalance between us? Don’t you see that I’m twice your age? Maybe they have a point. Maybe I am a child molester that took advantage of your feelings.”

 Peter had to swallow. Anger was bubbling up inside of him, but it was soon replaced by horror. He hadn’t noticed that his Daddy felt like this, hadn’t noticed that he doubted himself. All the time, Tony always seemed to be the strong Alpha, self-confident and resolute, but just like everyone else, he was a human being too. He had fears and regrets, and apparently one of them was forcing Peter. 

 Peter picked his next words carefully. “Daddy, I’ve always loved you. When I was younger, I loved you as a mentor, as a hero who saved me and when I grew up the feelings were getting deeper. I’ve desired you since the moment I presented, since I knew our bodies are compatible, but we didn’t act out on it for years. I told you I want this, more than once, and now I beg you to trust the decision I made. If I were anyone else, an Omega you didn’t raise, would you still feel this way? Would you still think you’ve taken advantage of me?”

 Tony stared at him in silence before he answered truthfully. “Probably not.”

 Peter sighed in relief. That was exactly what he wanted to hear. “There are a million relationships out there with age-gaps and thousands with power imbalances. How many rich old Alphas have young beautiful Omegas on their side? How often do you hear about Alpha’s rescuing poor Omega’s to mate them? It’s even called a romance. No one calls those pairings out because it’s common the Alpha is providing for the Omega, it’s common that Alphas are richer and more experienced. We are no different, Daddy. We aren’t even related by blood, no one should care.”

 “But they do. They don’t judge only me, they judge you as well. I don’t want you to suffer because of me,” Tony’s voice was small and vulnerable, something Peter had never heard before and he forced himself to stay calm, forced his scent to remain soothing. Getting angry with the world wouldn’t make anything better now. 

 “When Piece threatened me, he didn’t say I would regret rejecting his offer. He said we would regret it,” Tony flinched from the words, but Peter continued anyway. “I know he will come for both of us when the time is up. How would you feel if I would break up with you to protect you? To make the thing between you, me, and Pierce a thing between only me and Pierce?”

 He could see the fury in his Daddy’s eyes, could see the hate for Pierce but also the fear Peter might leave him, that Peter might confront the Senator on his own. “Exactly, Tony. I trust you that we are in this together. I know that you can make your own decisions and that you want to protect me. There’s nothing I’d rather do than keep you out of this, but we are a team. We’re doing this together. So please let us do the rest together as well. Don’t pull back to protect me from pretentious snobs.”

 His Daddy smiled, the first real smile of the day, and then he nodded carefully before he pressed a kiss on Peter’s forehead. “I love you, baby, you know? It makes me so proud that you choose to belong to me.”

 “It makes me proud that I belong to you as well, Daddy. Most perfect Alpha in the whole world.”

 Tony chuckled and pulled him ever closer until there was no space left between them. It felt nice being held like this, it always did, but today, Peter wanted to give something to his Daddy. He was always so strong for him, managing the situation with Pierce and protecting him from possible enemies. Peter just wanted to give something back. 

 “Daddy, can you just relax for me today? I wanna show you how much you mean to me; how much I love you.”

 The Alpha looked at him curiously but didn’t protest, handing over control he usually loved to have for himself. Peter savored his trust. He wouldn’t disappoint his Daddy, wouldn’t break his trust. He loved surrendering to the Alpha, loved to be dominated, but today he wanted to prove Tony that nothing mattered more than them being happy together.

 Peter slid from his Daddy’s lap and kneeled in front of the couch. Although he was taking control, his position was so submissive, the Alpha would be comfortable enough to let himself go. “Stop thinking, Daddy,” Peter said while he opened the Alpha’s pants and took them off. “I’m gonna show you how perfect I wanna be for you. That you are everything that matters to me.”

 “I love you, baby.” Tony was watching him with pride while he was shuffling closer. Immediately, the familiar scent of his Daddy was clouding his mind and he could feel himself getting slick. Already. He really was easy for the Alpha. 

 This time, Peter decided to take it slow. He pressed soft kisses on his Daddy’s thighs, every one of them a sign of his love, of his devotion, and he did his best not to touch the Alpha’s cock. He wanted the sensations to build up, wanted them to dominate hid Daddy’s mind until he was as desperate for the Omega as Peter was always for him. 

 “You’re so beautiful,” Peter whispered when his kisses were slowly wandering higher. “You’re so strong, so handsome. Your cock is gorgeous.” His sounds were muffled against his Daddy’s thighs, but the pleased noises of the Alpha showed Peter that Tony understood every word. “It’s so thick, stretching me so good. One day, I want you to breed me, fill me up with your pups. Every single time you open me up, I’m losing my mind. I can’t believe you think I wouldn’t want this, wouldn’t want you to fuck me with your big knot.”

 “Baby,” Tony growled impatiently, his fingers itching to take over. Peter could feel that his Daddy wanted to grab his hair, to force him down until he was choking on his cock, but he clenched his hands to fists, fighting the urge to take control. 

 Peter rewarded him with the first kiss pressed against his Daddy’s tip. It was light and chaste, his lips didn’t even stretch around the Alpha’s length, but Tony was riled up. His hips surged forward, pressing his cock against Peter’s face and the Omega couldn’t suppress the loud moan that was falling from his lips. God, there was nothing better than his Daddy losing control, nothing better than the thick cock pressed against his face. Well, maybe except for the thick cock inside of him.

 He had wanted to drag it out, had really wanted to tease his Daddy, but his patience was running thin. Without second thoughts, Peter opened his mouth and swallowed the length in one go, humming when he felt the tip pressed against the back of his throat. They were moaning at the same time, Tony because Peter was swallowing him like he had never tasted something better in his entire life, and Peter because the taste of his Daddy made him feel like he was high on endorphins.

 Peter was savoring every second, moving his head up and down. His mind went quiet as his mouth was stuffed full; his Daddy’s cock too big for him to swallow it whole. Pleasing his Alpha was the only thing he could concentrate on at the moment, the only thing that truly mattered. He was drooling all over the Alpha’s cock, it was running down his shaft and making his Daddy messy, but they didn’t care. Peter could die like this, happily sucking his Daddy’s cock. 

 “Baby, you are stunning, taking my cock like you was made for this,” Tony’s voice was hoarse and arousing. “You look perfect like this. One day, I stuff you with a toy while you’re sucking my cock, fill both of your holes at once. Would you like that, sweetheart? Your Daddy plugging you up like a desperate little slut?”

 “Uh-huh,” Peter couldn’t do anything but moan, unwilling to let the Alpha’s cock go. The words were making him wet, slick dripped out of him, ruining his pants. He wanted this, wanted his Daddy to plug him up, and stuff him full all day long. Sometimes Peter wondered if their obsession was healthy. They were together for a few months and they didn’t spend a day without sex when they saw each other. Peter felt like he was addicted to him, but he didn’t care.

 The moment Tony was getting close, Peter pulled back. He didn’t want the Alpha to come like this, wanted to ride his Daddy until he was feral with lust. Instead, Peter tried his best to look seductively when he stood up and took off his clothes. He was already too far gone to play coy, but his Daddy’s hungry gaze confirmed that the Alpha didn’t care. Tony’s entire body was tense, his feelings pent-up, but he fought his Alpha-biology anyway, fought the urge to bend Peter over and bury himself in the tight heat without thinking further. 

 Knowing that his Daddy held back for him, made Peter feel warm inside. His Daddy was perfect, not only the possessive feral Alpha who wanted to fuck Peter over every available surface but also his considerate lover who cared for him and trusted him. He planned to reward his Daddy, to show him that Peter could take care of his needs. 

 Peter made sure to move his hips seductively when he stripped off the last piece of clothing, his panties. He could feel his Daddy’s hungry gaze on him, could feel how slick was running down his thighs and the scent of his own arousal was filling the air. His plan had been to seduce the Alpha even further, tease him until he was snapping, but when his Daddy let out a growl, Peter couldn’t wait even a second longer. He climbed back onto Tony’s lap and pressed his lips on the Alpha’s. 

 Tony kissed him back brutally, his teeth pulling on Peter’s lower lip until the Omega was whining in pleasure. Every lick of Tony’s tongue was filled with pent-up arousal and Peter struggled to keep control. He wanted to let go, wanted to present and be taken, but he had to stay levelheaded. Pulling together all his willpower, Peter ended the kiss. His head was still pressed against the Alpha’s neck, but he felt a little better now, a little more in control of himself.

 The Alpha growled, a sign that he didn’t agree with his Omega pulling back, but thankfully he didn’t push. Peter knew he would have lost it if his Daddy decided to take the lead. The Omega’s hand wandered behind his back, dipping lower and lower until it wandered between the cleft of his cheeks. He could already feel his slick spread everywhere and when the first finger touched his hole, Peter let out a small cry.

 “Fuck, baby, hurry,” the Alpha’s voice was deep and desperate, so much closer to the edge than usual. His hands were clenched to fists and Peter could see his knuckles whitening. “I’ll lose it soon, baby. Open yourself up, don’t tease me anymore.”

 Peter whimpered and obeyed like he always did, the first finger immediately replaced by two. His own digits didn’t feel as good as his Daddy’s, didn’t stretch him as perfectly, but everything was better than being empty. He was sitting on his Daddy’s lap, his entire body on display while he prepared himself for Tony’s cock. The Alpha’s eyes followed every movement, every twitch of his body and every twist of his face. It felt so good being watched as if he was one of the most beautiful Omega’s made for his Daddy’s gaze. 

 Two fingers became three and Peter’s desperation was taking him under. The lazy movements of his hands were replaced by desperate bounces of his hips. He was fucking himself on his fingers, whimpering his Daddy’s name while he yearned for a cock inside. When a new wave of slick dripped down his thighs, Tony snapped.

 “Let me in now, Omega,” the Alpha’s said through gritted teeth. “If you want to keep control, if you want your plan to work, you should listen to me know. I can’t hold myself back when you squirm on my lap, crying for a cock like a slut.”

 Peter’s eyes rolled back, and he lost the last ounce of patience. With a whine, he pulled out his fingers, grabbed his Daddy’s cock, and positioned the tip against his dripping hole. Both of them moaned when he finally bore down, impaling himself on his Daddy’s length. 

 “You feel so good, Daddy,” Peter slurred while he savored the delicious stretch. “Filling me so good like no one else can. Please, don’t leave me, Daddy. I need you, I need your knot. You’re it for me.”

 Tony growled and his hips thrust up, unable to keep them still any longer. He made Peter bounce on his lap, like a rag doll that was being tossed around, and every time his Daddy’s cock opened him up, he could feel the tip pressed against his sweet spot. Not even a minute in and Peter was already moaning like a whore, a whore for his Daddy. 

 “I won’t leave you, baby,” Tony promised, his hands clutching Peter’s hips and forcing the Omega to move. “I promise. Once I’ve dealt with Pierce, I’m going to mate you and I’m going to marry you afterward. No one will be able to separate us, you belong to me. You were made for me, and I was made for you. Now bounce for me, show me that you need me. Show me that you chose me.”

 Peter cried out, the words of his Daddy hitting his core. This was exactly what he wanted, what he needed to be happy. Mated to his gorgeous Alpha, loved by this gorgeous Alpha, and fucked by him every single day until they were getting old. His Daddy’s cock had never felt this hot, this big before and he immediately knew that his Daddy was close. 

 “Stroke me, Daddy. Make me come at the same time,” Peter wanted to order him, but his request came out as a beg, pathetically whimpering for his Daddy. He had wanted this, had wanted to take control to show his Daddy how much he meant to him, but he has reached his breaking point. The control was back in his Alpha’s hands again and he couldn’t imagine anything better.

 He was sobbing when his Daddy touched his leaking cock for the first time, the entire length fitting in Tony’s hand. He felt owned, surrounded by his Alpha and the only thing he could still focus on was moving his hips. When his Daddy reached his limits, he clutched Peter’s cock tightly, thrusting his own length again and again in Peter’s hole. The Omega’s walls fluttered around him, urging him on to come inside the tight heat. 

 Peter could feel every inch of the knot expanding inside of him, could feel every surge of seed the Alpha pumped into his body. His sweet spot was assaulted by Tony’s knot, his cock milked by his Daddy’s tight grip. Peter sobbed when the first of his orgasm was washing over him, leaving him twisting and squirming on his Daddy’s lap.

 Coming on Tony’s knot was incredible, his entire body was throbbing and arching for the Alpha’s seed. Nothing had ever felt that good and Peter knew he would always be happy, his Daddy would make him happy. He wouldn’t allow anyone to plant toxic thoughts into Tony’s head, he would reassure the Alpha over and over again that Peter would always choose him. 

 “I love you,” Peter whispered, his body still shaking from the orgasm. “You are perfect for me.”

 Tony hummed and they stayed silent, both of them enjoying the afterglow. Peter cuddled closer against the Alpha’s chest, contently knotted by his Daddy. They stayed like this for a while, listening to each other’s heartbeats, and keeping the other one close. 

 “Today meant much to me, baby,” Tony confessed after a while. 

 Peter smiled at him and pressed a kiss on his lips. “I’ll always stay at your side, Daddy. We protect each other. Once Pierce is gone, we’ll mate. Forever.”

 “Forever,” Tony answered with a smile and buried his face in the Omega’s hair.