#and not enough people understood that they just hated it for being a rewrite

[infamous-if]

Dec ✮ 12 ✮ 2024 – update

Part of me hates doing these mostly because it's a whole lotta nothing and me just repeating everything I said the last update (lol) but I do like doing it because I like keeping people updated, even if it's a non-update. I may sound like a broken record (pun not intended) but I know a lot of people don't catch my updates every time so it's nice to just keep people informed yk yk

✮ — Part 2 + rewrite

Fun fact: I had written an entire essay about my excitement for the rewrite and chapter 3 and beyond but it got too long!

It boiled down to me wondering why I'm so excited for this rewrite and realizing it's because I feel comfortable enough to approach it with complete creative freedom. I wrote the first iteration of the demo with the constant worries swimming in my head like "I hope people understand what I'm trying to say here" and "I hope this situation is being read the way I intended for it to be read." And I think I sort of had those thoughts tenfold while writing Part 2. If you paid attention, you can probably see where I was trying to shut down certain discussions in the narrative lmao

Recently I had a tiny epiphany and reminded myself that it's not always about what I intend to write, but what is being understood by each reader. And yes this is basic writing 101 but let me have this moment of clarity okay. Embracing that means I can proceed with Infamous without holding back and sticking to my guns in regards to what I want for this story aka I'm just going to write what I write and like....not worry about the rest you feel (while of course integrating the common critiques and suggestions and improving on the things Infamous falls short in—I am not Shakespeare lmao)

ANYWAY my point is that I'm excited to fix up the demo !!! and just go back to it with complete confidence in myself and write whatever the heck feels right to me (and write the rest of the story lolol) and return with a better story than I have now for everyone!!

✮ — December will be for

planning what I'm going to improve and squeezing that in a reworked outline so it can flow much better narratively.

Outlining Chapter 3 and hopefully have the bare bones first draft drafted up which is mostly just be writing blocks of descriptions

I'm not sure I'll have anything substantial to justify looking for beta testers so soon yet but maybe!

work on my spice writing babey writing/reading spice makes me actually physically recoil but im determined to get better! which reminds me to finish the 6k follower gifts!

And also take a small breather because I am moving!

✮ — Patreon

I've already mentioned this on Patreon and a few times on here, but I do want to reiterate that Patreon content is coming out in bulk this month, in case anyone was wondering why I'm not posting as frequently. The content is still the same in terms of the quantity, it just won't be released every few days! thank you guys for being understanding of that <3

✮ —

My activity has is decreasing little by little due to my move but I do read every question and try to at least answer one question a day. I get quite a few mentions lately so I have to sort through those since I do get tagged in things, but I miss them due to my notifications. Usually I hope for the best and hope tracking the tag puts it on my dashboard <3 im not ignoring anyone!

That's all for now! Hope everyone has a happy December and Happy Holidays!

[undergmnds]

When Crowley fell, he cried and clawed at his face, eyes unable to see the stars he himself had created.

He grew bitter at the heavens, not only having fallen from it, but for holding his pride and joy hostage—just within arms reach, but too great and pure for someone like him to have. Something people don't realize is that when an angel falls, they lose their most prized possession. To Crowley, it was his sight—not that he was blind, which he might have preferred over not being able to see the stars in the sky.

When the demon met the angel at the Garden, he was blinded by the sparkling blue that silently analyzed him. He had forgotten (or kept locked away) everything else about Heaven, save for the eyes that witnessed the beauty he made. To Crowley, Aziraphale's eyes held the sun, the moon, and the stars. He started brandishing a pair of sunglasses to hide the impurity of his eyes, and almost to shield himself from the blinding love and optimism the angel had. He remembered when he was that angel.

Every day with Aziraphale was Crowley's own piece of Heaven. There were times he was unsure whether he deserved such warmth or not, making him push the angel away, only for him to come back the very next day—or decade, depending on how fearful he felt. He had already lost his angelic status, his right to create and witness what he had made; he was not about to part with the one person who showed him love and compassion, despite being something so unforgivable.

When Aziraphale went to Heaven, despite Crowley's pleas, the world around him darkened. He asked himself if this was another punishment. Had he not lost enough?

He couldn't bear to stay on Earth. He looked around and he was reminded of what the heavens had taken away from him. His stars. His freedom. His light. He left the planet soon after the angel left, meeting Beelzebub and Gabriel along the way. He would accompany them from time to time, harboring much contempt and bitterness in his heart.

Why?

Why wasn't it him and his angel in their place? After all they've been through? After all what they made them go through?

What made them so special? What made them so deserving of happiness?

Why couldn't he have this miniscule piece of Heaven?

A few years went by, and for a while, it seemed like Crowley was starting to forget—although that might not be the right word to use. Forgetting was the farthest thing the imaginative demon was doing. He kept replaying the time he spent with Aziraphale over and over, rewriting the pain, cursing himself whenever he said the wrong thing, and replaying it until he got his desired result.

This was, perhaps, Crowley's personal Hell. Up in the stars, on a planet surrounded by those twinkling orbs of light that he couldn't see, the serpent cried. No one could hear him, and he was glad for it. When he grew tired of the depression, he would sleep for years, only to wake up and do it all over again.

One day, something changed. He awoke to persistent knocks on his Alpha Centauri cottage, fashioned similarly to his Earthly abode, only there were empty bookshelves instead of his beautiful green plants. It had been another five years of sleep—150 years had just been this pitiful routine. Crowley opened the door to see a flustered Gabriel. The demon scoffed, almost slamming the door in his face by reflex when the ex-archangel said it—his angel's name and a word he dreaded to hear. He wanted to hear that word from his beloved instead, as he finally admits his love for the accursed creature, after which they would share a tender kiss. Crowley wished it was a dream.

Something people misunderstood about Crowley is that while he is a temperamental demon, he couldn't find it in himself to hate Aziraphale. He knew that the angel is pure-hearted, perhaps a bit too naive, too scared to take risks, yet too impulsive. He knew what the angel wanted when he left, but he never understood why. Strangely, Crowley trusted God to protect such a pure soul, but what was this? His detestation for Heaven and Hell grew by the second.

His angel fell, and it wasn't into his embrace, nor was it in love. No, he fell from grace and lost his heart. That day, Crowley felt as though he had lost his, too.

[shapelytimber]

Finally finished this comic for class, hope you’ll all enjoy it :) (and I really hope it won’t get flagged even tho I censored the ending-) (ok this is my second time posting this- second time the charm I hope :(( If you want the uncensored version you can just dm me)

Oh boy what a journey- I had to rewrite this so many times jgotjgpfjn I hope you little queer people will relate to this more than my very het very cis 50 yo male teacher who did not understand it one bit- (more on that along with the french version vvv because I need to rant a bit- ok a lot)

Ici pour la vo et mon sel a ce que je vois <3 anyway joyeuse pride et bravo les lesbiennes

That man did not understand the relation between the vampire narrative and the gay narrative (he did not see a link between the two and told me the second half in the 70s would alienate the audience that would be interested in the "vampire and gore" narrative ???), he told me "your greatest desire being a curse if it came to be makes no sense because the two words are complete opposites and thus a contradiction" ( sir???? That man never had a fantasy, hated someone viscerally or just heard of the concept of an *oxymoron* apparently ok cool cool), he did not know about the lavender menace (ok I was expecting that) but because of that he told me that having that long of a time skip was nonsense (like it's not a very cliché trope of the vampire narrative) and that it was not realistic that she only found *someone* after 150 years (u know, like homophobia, comp het or just slow self discovery are not a thing ??? Especially for a woman born and raised in the 19th century ??) (But ig that led to him telling me that I should consider that since I was an expert in my field (that field being lesbianism), I should not consider specific terms or reference to be understood by *most people* mhkglmglgkgkgkk guys I'm a lesbian expert now) and cherry on the top : he thought that it was not logical for her to be happier after becoming a vampire, because she ends up having to hide it and vampirism is a curse. (Never mind she killed her shitty husband, freed herself, and found a community ig). Overall he found it confusing, two story that have *nothing* to do with each other and not explained enough.

Like seriously I know I'm not good at writing (I usually don't do it very much-), that's why I choose to do a very cliché vampire narrative, and I was expecting to be called out on it (like I hit nearly every trope : killed someone accidentally, hiding your vampirism, the long ellipse, gay) not ending up having doubts I was even able to write french ??? He had some very valid feedback to give me, but the vast majority of them I just found baffling-

Oops sorry for this long ass text-

[bestworstcase]

You've mentioned that hatedoms tend to be very similar to each other, if not outright identical across fandoms. What is it that causes them to be like this and so similar to each other?

well. to explain this i think it’s first helpful to lay out why hatedom… exists, because i think that is generally not understood in normative fandom space; what i see happening in a lot of conversations about hatedom is that there is a widespread presupposition that hatedom is kind of a side effect of bullies and bigots lashing out at fans for liking something they don’t, and… that’s a misconception because hatedom is a fandom subculture.

“but farran,” you might be thinking, “hatedom is full of bigoted bullies”—and yes, it is. that is true of fandom across the board and, frankly, the harassment is often mutual. it’s just that trolling hatedom or just being combative and nasty toward people in hatedom is broadly socially acceptable in a lot of fandom spaces and the perception that hatedom is demographically homogenous (white, cishet, male) allows fandom’s bad actors to spin aggression as self-defense by rhetorically invoking identity politics. 

which is not to say that hatedom isn’t ever reactionary or that hatedom doesn’t have a massive bigotry problem—it is and it does—but rather that those things are not unique to this one subculture. it is a Fandom Problem. 

so, with that said, what makes hatedom happen?

it isn’t about not liking something. it isn’t even really about hating a thing. people in hatedoms are… fans, actually. 

specifically they are fans who have reached the natural terminus of fandom’s “fuck canon/yay fanon” culture. this is actually the main reason i tend to get somewhat acidic with the anons i get sometimes kvetching about hatedom rewrites and the like, because… hello? 

inside every happy fan besotted with fanon is an embittered screed just one favorite-headcanon-shattering narrative turn away from getting out. it is the same. mindset. bifurcated solely by whether the preferred fanon resembles the real story enough to believe the fanon is real. 

this is why hatedom is disproportionately populated by shippers of torpedoed ships and hardcore believers of popular fan theories that flopped. (and once you notice this, perusing fandom tags and blogs becomes a fun exercise in forecasting the hatedom.)

anyway the point of all this being that hatedom arises when there is an irreconcilable break away from popular fanon in the actual text. when ships get sunk, popular fan theories get jossed, or the narrative status quo is changed, it’s really common for fans who were deeply invested in that ship or theory or paradigm  to pivot to hatedom because the emotional attachment they have to the story and characters doesn’t go away, it just hits an immovable obstacle and ricochets off in a new direction. 

again, fans do exactly the same thing at a lesser intensity. fix-it fic. headcanons of omission, ie, “i know x happened in canon but i don’t like it so i am choosing to pretend it didn’t, actually.” the entire sentiment that fandom itself is about stripping a story for spare parts to write bespoke au fic tailored exactly to suit the fan’s preferences. 

what distinguishes hatedom—& this is getting to the answer of your actual question—is that in hatedom the “fuck canon/yay fanon” principle is applied in the context of that irreparable breach opening between canon and fanon. in normative fandom spaces, the popular fanon kind of gets superimposed with the text in a manner that allows them to blend together, hiding any small discrepancies. that isn’t possible in hatedom because the discrepancies are always so large.

inevitably what that leads to is this feedback loop where the hatedom develops its preferred fanon through a combination of fanworks, meta-posting about why the fanon would have been better or should have been what happened instead, and cherry-picking whatever bits and pieces from canon people in the hatedom happen to like.

(which is how all fanon develops, yes.)

over time, it’s the meta-posting about the preferred fanon that causes hatedom to dissolve into the vindictive nitpicky circus. no matter where you go in fandom, there is always a huge social incentive to keep coming up with new things to talk about. obviously. in normative fandom spaces a lot of that is generated by excitement and joy and just a desire to spend more time with the story and share what you think and kick fun or interesting ideas around. but in hatedom, the passion binding these fans together is estranged from canon almost completely and the group identity is predicated on this really intense disappointment that the preferred fanon got left in the dust. 

so hatedom is fundamentally driven by a powerful social incentive to keep coming up with new reasons why the preferred fanon is better. that pushes the fanfic away from au and into spitefic territory, leaches nuance out of the discussions, encourages nitpicking and angry screeds. eventually it hits a certain critical mass and tailspins rapidly into bullshit because (and this is the key) people in hatedom are fans. 

as in, most of them like the stories they’re ripping apart. they largely do not actually have any deep problem with the story because they are fans having extreme reactions to disappointment. so they talk shit and nitpick and make melodramas out of molehills and sometimes fling bizarre identity politics around to either legitimize nonsense Story Bad arguments or score imaginary points in altercations with normative fandom. 

if that all sounds familiar, yeah. lmao

i will close with an anecdote to illustrate the broader point. 

once upon a time i made a snarky little post about an extremely stupid ironwood take i scrolled past while blogwalking. somehow or another that ended up in front of one of the BNFs of rwby’s hatedom; he misinterpreted my point (because it was a vague snarky paragraph) and wrote a fairly harsh response based on that misinterpretation. there were several followers of mine in the notes kind of signaling an expectation that i was about to receive a barrage of harassment over this. 

i responded by:

clarifying that i didn’t mean the (genuinely awful!) thing he thought i was saying

indicating that i understood how/why he’d read the post that way and no hard feelings

elaborating in detail on what i did mean and why i thought that

and what happened?

the dude apologized for jumping to conclusions and being so caustic off the bat, then explained his own opinion and the thought process behind it. and that was that. the number of hostile angry anons i received was zero. the number of inane bad faith reblogs i got on other posts afterwards was zero.

now this is a basic, basic deescalating tactic but it’s also really illustrative of what i’m talking about when i say that hatedom isn’t motivated by a desire to bully fans  out of fandom because if it hadn’t been for the handful of people in the notes going basically, “oh no! it’s him! brace yourself!” i wouldn’t have known the guy was a hatedom BNF at all. his initial response to me was indistinguishable from the tantrums the dadpin people or that one penny truther throw in my inbox every now and then and frankly he was a lot more reasonable and mature about our differences of opinion than them once the misunderstanding was cleared up. 

like…

i’m not conflict averse at all. anyone who’s been following me for any significant length of time knows that, lmao. but i do try to lead with reasonable and presume good faith until proven otherwise and the thing is? that shuts down hatedom aggro fucking instantly. because people in hatedom are just… fans, really. fans who are usually pretty stoked to be treated like fellow fans instead of the enemy and will usually make an effort to rise to the occasion. 

and once you grok that hatedom becomes really quite simple to understand; the homogenous pan-fandom slurry of inane bullshit happens because fundamentally most people in hatedom like the story but rode the “fuck canon/yay fanon” train all the way to its very toxic and unpleasant last stop and now they’re kind of… stuck there trying to shout the cognitive dissonance away. most of them would be 1000% happier if they hopped the fence back to fandom and went “here’s my wish fulfillment power fantasy au fic that i’m writing for a target audience of Me” buuut there are a lot of social and emotional headwinds against that. 

so instead they make up wildly entertaining bullshit reasons a story is bad like “the animation is ugly” and “it’s bad writing not to explain how [completely mundane everyday thing that children can understand, like haircuts or the concept of money] works” and “how could the disney princess show have monarchy in it?!/how could the fairytale show have fairytales in it?!” and so forth. it just gets sillier and sillier forever.

[captain-noir]

Previous anon but omg I didn't even see the reply to your post or the fact that you've apparently gotten infamous on Twitter 😭. I'm sorry for people being weird and misinterpreting of that, honestly I like reading your posts a lot because you don't attack Louis so much as point out the obvious ticks to his character and his hypocrisy which, a lot of fans don't seem to even want to talk about? Like fans go on about what a wonderfully complex character he is yet don't even want to go into the specifics of it, and analyzing a character's flaws and how they contribute to his decisions and how it affects HIS life when done correctly doesn't automatically translate to hating on said character....

oh its ok im made of sterner stuff i just find it funny that they're that incensed by an opinion on a fictional character. far be it for me to dictate how one enganges with media but i never understood people who tie up their entire identities around characters/ships. who are you fighting for? a figment of someone's imagination? you're going apeshit over words on paper brought to life by an actor doing a job? like louis is fascinating because he's a lying murderous hyprocrite who would sacrifice his child in a fire to save his spouse and then tend to that vacuous guilt so he can have something to nurse until the new baby arrives. he was a pimp for godsake, a slum lord who continued on even after 'making enough money to retire and be buried like a pharoah' continued that exploitation when he had other investements and means of income as. thats fascinating. thats good character work. it doesnt mean he wasnt a victim of abuse, it doesnt mean he didnt experience violent racism. he has dimensions! the biggest crime a character can commit is be boring and those losers want louis to be a boring hapless victim who just keeps falling into the clutches of these evil evil men and would someone think of the optics of this black character he has to be good why are you villaini[gunshot] ironically they miss the entire point of louis who is overly concerned by how he comes across so he rewrites his entire story and they buy into it. jacob anderson said he was glad that the jig was up and louis couldnt continue to paint himself as the tragic hero of the piece. if nothing else listen to jacob anderson. anway i predict season 2 is going to be rough for them when the show double downs on louis' bad choices re armand and lestat and claudia. when heads hit the floor literally and figuratively...phew

[auxiliarydetective]

Identity Rewrite, Part 1

@drclairefinn talked about there not being many blogs posting about The Orville these days. So, I decided to try and reactivate my old hyperfixation and cook up something. This might not be what you were looking for, but it's the only thing I could get my brain to do. So, you'll be getting lots of drama, featuring a time-traveller OC and her boyfriend Gordon, mainly. This is something that I've been spinning in my mind like a rotisserie chicken since I first watched the episode, so let's see how it holds up. Also features a lot of OC lore, but I tried to explain everything. Because of that, this chapter is mostly build-up. But we're getting somewhere.

Have fun!

.

.

Gordon was walking through the corridors of the Orville, headed to sick bay. It was still a little hard to believe: Isaac was supposedly shut off. The lights that were his eyes had gone out and now he was motionless, maybe even lifeless. People died, yes, but Gordon would have never thought it could happen to Isaac - and not like this. Not that suddenly. Or maybe that was the only way it could happen to a Kaylon. Gordon had already hated waiting for his shift to end and now he felt he finally had to go see him, despite the fact that he probably couldn’t do anything. The least he could do was check up on his friend.

When he turned the corner to sick bay, he almost bumped into Raevyn who had her eyes fixated on a small box in her hands.

“Woah, hey,” he gasped.

“Hey,” Raevyn replied.

Something about her was off. Far off. She was nervous, anxious even.

“Did you just come from Isaac?” Gordon asked.

“Yeah. Yeah. He’s… well, uh, he’s motionless.”

“But they haven’t given up on him yet, right? There’s still hope.”

“Yeah.”

“Hey, wait, you know what’s gonna happen,” Gordon suddenly remembered. “You’ve lived through this before in your old timeline. - Just for my nerves: He’s gonna be alright, right?”

“Yeah, he’s gonna be fine,” Raevyn confirmed, a soft smile on her lips.

“Good. … Then what are you so worried about?”

“Well, uh…”

“C’mon, you can tell me, baby,” Gordon said, taking her hands into his. They were warm as always - telling sign of the electricity running in her veins. The fingertips of her right hand were coarse from the overcharge scars on them. Through a gap between her fingers, he felt just a tiny part of the cold exterior of the box she was holding on his skin. “Is it about the box you got there?”

“The box is part of it.”

“What’cha got in there? Some secret weapon? Top secret info?”

“Headache pills.”

“Oh no, did they get worse again?”

“Not yet. But they’re gonna. I can already feel one coming on.”

That was when Gordon understood. “Something’s gonna happen, isn’t it? That’s why you’re so nervous.”

“To be honest,” Raevyn sighed, “yes. It’s something I’d rather not go through again.”

“We’ll get through it together,” Gordon assured her with a winning smile. “Just like we always do.”

Raevyn smiled too and nodded. “We’re gonna be brave about it.”

“Eh, you know I’m not too good at that.”

“You’re braver than you know. I think you’re pretty grand.”

Gordon smiled and kissed her, feeling her warm, soft lips on his. A wave of happiness overcame him, not just his own, but the telepathic gust of emotions she sent out, too. But there was nervosity reaching him as well, that characteristic flickering that could send you to the edge if it got too bad. That was one thing about Raevyn, she had stopped hiding her emotions from him a long time ago, letting her mind ease completely into his, showering him in trust. Sometimes, Gordon even thought he could sense her all on his own, without her establishing a telepathic connection, if her emotions were strong enough. They were like Vulcans, he thought, only far more emotional and far from logical.

Thank you, baby, he heard her voice in his head as they parted.

They stood there for a few more seconds, enveloping each other in a hug. But then, they each had to go their own way.

In sick bay, Gordon stood by Isaac’s bed for a while, watching him lie there. In a cruel way, it reminded him of the day Isaac had amputated his leg and they had both been in sick bay together. Isaac’s idea of a practical joke. A little misguided, but also maybe one of the best pranks Gordon had ever seen. Coincidentally, it was also the day Gordon had first met Raevyn. Nobody had believed her that she was from the future at first. Why would they? But through the troubles caused by Pria Lavesque, the crew had grown to trust and believe her. Now, over a year later, she was officially Chief of Security - again, one could say - and Gordon couldn’t imagine his life without her.

But he did wonder: What could she be so worried about? Up until now, she had taken most situations with a healthy degree of certainty that everything would be fine. She had trusted in the mission to Krill space, taken the disappearance of the Finn family with a calm state of mind, even the Church of Kelly and the encounter with the Regorians hadn’t shaken her. The only time she had ever been worried was for John on Sargus 4 - and correctly so. Had it not been for her, he would have had his mind fried. In turn, she had fried hers, though only figuratively, luckily.

Gordon found his thoughts spinning and quickly shook them off. It probably wasn’t that bad, right? Raevyn got emotional, too, she could just be worried about nothing. Besides, she had said that Isaac would be alright, so that would be no issue. And anything else, Gordon was sure of it, they would work through together, because he loved her and they had always supported each other, and if he wasn’t enough, they had friends that could help. Together, there was nothing they couldn’t do. Their wacky adventures were proof of that.

So, Gordon held on to the positive things: Isaac would be okay. That much was sure. So, as they were docked on Kaylon, he looked down on the planet with interest, free from the worries about Isaac others might have. He didn’t know how far the buildings went down or up, gigantic skyscrapers with antennae at their top were spread out until beyond the horizon, looking almost like needles. Every now and then, he saw a couple of Kaylon. They all looked the same, lacking all individuality. Only one thing about Isaac was different: While the other Kaylon’s eyes were orange, his were blue. Had they always looked that way or had he had them changed later because of the association with evil robots from movies humans might have? Gordon doubted it. Another question that came to his mind was whether they all had names. He had always wondered how Isaac had gotten his name. Had he chosen it himself? Had it been assigned to him? That was something he could finally ask him once he came back.

With questions like this, Gordon kept himself entertained until news came back on Isaac - and he felt a little betrayed: Isaac wasn’t coming back. His assignment was, apparently, completed and that was the end of it. It felt like a punch to the gut, but… that was just how he was. Logical to a fault. You could even call him cold. No, that would be unfair. In typical Union tradition, the crew of the Orville decided to host a goodbye party for Isaac. Gordon even prepared a song. The party went really well - everyone had fun and even Isaac seemed to enjoy himself, as much as he could be. Still, Raevyn had a melancholy air about her. She was sitting by the bar, drinking Tehiko rum all by herself. So, Gordon joined her.

“Are you alright?” he asked, trying to read the look in her softly glowing eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Raevyn murmured. “It’s just my head.”

“Too many people in the room?”

“Yeah, that’s probably it.”

“You don’t mean that.”

Raevyn chuckled and shook her head. “Dammit, Gordon, you’ve gotten too good at reading me. Are you a telepath too?”

“No,” Gordon said with a smile, “I’ve just been spending too much time with you - and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. So what’s really going on? Stress?”

“You got it.”

“We’re at a party and you still can’t let go. Has to be pretty bad, huh?”

“Yup. And you gotta stop asking because I can’t tell you anything.”

Gordon sighed heavily. “Temporal law. God, I’ve started to hate it.”

“Yeah, count me in.”

“I bet you’ve got it worse.”

“I’m just glad they let me stay and didn’t lock me up. You know, since time travellers are supposed to influence the time they land in as little as possible. But then they decided ‘hey, this is the one person who knows what the timeline’s supposed to be like, so let’s keep her around’.”

“I’m glad they did.”

“Yeah, but now I’m responsible.”

“You’re not responsible,” Gordon reminded her. “That’s why you’re always so on edge when something happens, you’re putting too much pressure on yourself.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do?”

“Just let it happen.”

Raevyn frowned. “I get you’re trying to make me feel better,” she mumbled, “but there’s nothing you can say that could make this okay. What’s coming up is far from anything we’ve gone through up until now because- No, I’m talking too much again. You have no idea how much I’d just like to dump all my emotions out in front of you but I can’t. It’s not that I don’t trust you, you’ve got to believe me, it’s just-”

“Temporal law, I know, I know,” Gordon grumbled. Oh, how he hated it. “But you’ve got to promise me one thing: As soon as you think you can say something, let me help you. I can’t stand seeing you like this. It’s you and me, okay?”

“Alright,” Raevyn said and gave him a weak smile. “I promise.”

She reached for his hand across the gap between the bar stools. Gordon took it and squeezed it lightly, hoping it would give her strength. Whatever was coming at them, he promised himself he’d be ready.

[user-name-password]

In this post I’ll show what was changed in chapter 2 of Another Way, Lamenting Leaders. (Originally named Restless Respite, but after the rewrite I decided that worked best as the chapter 3 title.)

The first two paragraphs (Sora’s and Leon’s) are the only ones that are completely unchanged, the beginning of the 3rd paragraph (Aerith’s) was also unchanged, but itself as a whole was originally much shorter, ending like this.

[After that was taken care off, Yuffie personally guided Sora, Donald and Goofy to the inn, whilst Aerith and Leon returned to their duties.

However before they separated, Leon gave Aerith a warning.

”We have to be on our guards tonight, with both a Princess of Hearts, as well as the Keybearer being on this world simultaneously.” Leon didn’t have to finish his sentence, Aerith understood enough.]

Leon’s warning was ment to act as foreshadowing for the ending of this chapter.

It should be noted that the Cid and Ansem paragraphs are new additions, taking the place of the two Yuffie paragraphs, as well as the first Sora paragraph, from chapter 3, the beginning of the second Sora paragraph was also a part of chapter 2 originally, but similarly to the Aerith paragraph it was a lot shorter, ending like this.

[“Then consider it a gif-“ Yuffie didn’t get to finish her sentence as the world started to shake.

“An earth quake?!” Sora questioned.

Yuffie jumped of her chair and pulled out her weapon, “I highly doubt it!”]

Which immediately led into these two cut paragraphs.

[Aerith couldn’t believe what she was seeing, Heartless, Heartless, everywhere she looked, Heartless.

She hadn’t seen so many Heartless in one place since-

”No.”

This shouldn’t be possible, Sora sealed the Keyhole, the world couldn’t be-

Aerith ran as fast as she could, she needed to find Leon.]

This one being the ending.

[Leon sometimes hated being right.

He knew having the Keybearer and a Princess on the same world was asking for trouble, but something about this didn’t sit right with him.

Leon knew Sora had been to worlds with other Princess on them, and Sora never once mentioned any of those worlds getting invaded by an army of Heartless.

Cause that’s what’s this was, an army.

And invasion.

Leon grit his teeth as one of the Heartless landed a lucky strike on his back.

There had to be a reason for these numbers, the Keyblade and Kairi couldn’t be the explanation, if that was the case they be focusing on the inner parts of town near the inn or the infirmary.

Another lucky hit.

Leon knew he was being surrounded and needed to fall back, but saying so was much easier than actually doing so.

He managed to strike down three Heartless at once, yet three more just took their place.

Leon really hated being right.]

This ending was ment to lead into the beginning of chapter 3 where it’s reveled that the Heartless invasion isn’t part of Ansem’s plan, but instead Xemnas’s.

Basically the battle of (not quite a thousand, but) a few hundred Heartless.

The problem however, became obvious once I started writing chapter 3.

I hate long battle scenes in stories, (be it in writing or on video,) I find them boring and annoying every time I see them.

I don’t mind a bit of fighting here and there, but long stretches of paragraph after paragraph of nothing but people punching, kicking, or throwing their weapons around just bore me, I know fights are supposed to create tension, but that has never worked on me.

(With one very recent exception, read On the Edge of Daybreak by CoriShadowfang if you haven’t, the fight scenes in the later half of that story was the first time I ever felt any amount of excitement in seeing characters duke it out.)

And let me tell you something, it’s very hard writing something good, when you don’t like reading what you wrote, (I even tried to emulate how CoriShadowfang wrote the fights in OtEoD, but I’m not good enough of a writer to pull of that kinda style yet, trust me, I tried.)

I ended up getting so annoyed with this chapter, I just straight up wanted to quit for awhile, and probably would’ve, had it not been for the fact that I swore I wouldn’t abandon another story once I’ve started uploading parts of it to the internet again, (never again.)

So my only option became to change the ending of chapter 2 so I could go in another direction.

There were other reasons why I decided to change It, but my dislike of long battle scenes was the primary one, the other reasons are more plot related, and I don’t wanna spoil anything.

(For those of you wandering if that means that the battle of a thousand Heartless won’t happen in this story, don’t worry, it probably still will in one form or another, hopefully in a way where I can skim most of it.)

[ariminiria]

Now this may be a slightly controversial take but I firmly believe that the misunderstanding of what Maleficent (2014) was about and the subsequent hatred is what led to the following slew of uninspired, lazy cash grab soulless remakes.

[kitacco]

sunrise.

pairing: fem!reader, gojo satoru.

genre: angst with happy ending.

summary: time doesn’t always heal.

cw: mention of manipulation, violence.

wordcount: 4.1k.

! part two of clouds !

the sky is clear when you look up into the sky. even though the sun is not out, and instead, the sky is covered with grey clouds, you still like to believe it’s clear.

he made you believe that the first time you two met.

it wasn’t like you were escaping from reality, he simply thought if there was something you could change, then you should. you believed him, after so long.

how could you describe how he makes you feel? you had never felt it before. he felt like the orange sky adorned by the full sun, illuminating the grass and bringing warmth to the body despite the breeze. was that an exaggeration? probably, he didn’t think so, though. he made you believe you could rewrite reality with only your imagination.

meeting him was fate. he told you that, you thought it was sheer coincidence and two people on the right place. he was a little more romantic than you, though.

you had been to therapy for about two years.

things weren’t easy, and honestly, you wished you could forget about it.

your therapist assured you it wasn’t your fault - it took you a while to understand that.

you were aware that it wasn’t entirely your fault, what happened was a casualty, sadly, an experience you had to go through, but also a lesson you had the opportunity to learn from. it wasn’t easy, you understood that after a year of one session every month. you cried a lot, more than what you expected, and you felt responsible. because, if you hadn’t fallen for him, everything would’ve turned out well.

you were quick to learn that your emotions shouldn’t make you guilty, instead, who was to blame was him.

after a while, you finally accepted it.

gojo never contacted you after everything happened. you wanted to go on with your life like he most likely was, however, you were incapable of creating any type of relationship with people. what used to be a big group of friends became one, and what used to be exciting became scary. your friends, then, insisted you visited a therapist. you didn’t want to, at first. if anything, you wished you could simply erase the situation from your brain for the rest of your life, but how could you when subconsciously you failed to move on? your friend and her husband moved away, and so did you. she left the city while you moved to the other end of the city. not necessarily because you wished to avoid him; your therapist thought it was better to forge relationships from zero. 

another year passed, and he had completely vanished from your life. you hadn’t told your new roommate about it, but you knew your friend had before you moved in. you didn’t mind. you knew she was trying to protect you. but, it’s not like he’d ever come around again - that you believed so.

you didn’t exactly know how you met him. maybe it really was fate, like he said once. only eleven months after the incident, you were still incapable of communication. leaving your house was scary and worrisome for anything other than therapy, so you didn’t tend to visit places much often. during the time, you were still leaving at your old apartment. your friend insisting on you moving on had already convinced you of leaving the building, and that day you were finally taking the boxes out.

you met by the stairs. a box had fallen from your hands straight to his feet.

as much as you apologized, he only smiled, assuring you he was alright.

and that was it.

you met him again on your way to your therapist. it was all too similar, you thought to yourself. he happened to have a friend living in the same building as you (he was literally your next door neighbor), and you were starting to open up to people a little more. you knew his friend, as much as one knows a neighbor. the guy was nice and he always gave your roommate eyes - she genuinely didn’t mind him.

you told your therapist about it the other day. and the next day, the guy was knocking at your door.

you remembered how nice having company felt. your roommate worked all day, while you only stayed at home. unable to properly work just yet, you only worked in the mornings at a coffee shop. it was safe and easy for you most of the times, only having to wipe tables and greet costumers. you didn’t complain.

he told you he had just gone to see his friend and happened to be curious about you. his eyes were a little intense but there was something about the tone of his voice and shakiness of his smile that managed to make you feel at peace.

besides your roommate, he became someone you could trust.

things didn’t go as quickly as it would’ve normally. you had never invited him inside your house alone, but when your roommate was there, you would let him inside. he would always visit with sweets or a cup of coffee for you. 

it’s like everything repeated itself once again in some extent.

after hanging out with your roommate and him, his friend started tagging alone. the guy was sweet and funny, and in less than three weeks he managed to get your roommate to go on a date with you.

that was the first time the two of you spent alone.

you’d thought by that time you were over it. you were quick to understand there were some wounds that no matter how much you tried, would leave scars that still hurt.

but he didn’t mind waiting all the time in the world for you, and he let you know that.

looking back, you finally realized what real love truly was. he was what real love felt like.

small touches, assuring words, constant communication. silence wasn’t needed with him, and your eyes never spoke more than what words did.

you genuinely felt safe again.

gojo didn’t mean this to happen. after the yelling of your friend and the end of the friendship with his friend, gojo decided he was done with you forever.

so then, why was he involuntarily following you around the store?

he had no other intentions than to look at you for one last time. it had been a while, and he was genuinely curious about how you were doing. it was impossible to find anything about you, you had completely wiped yourself out from social media, and all your friends had blocked him too. that should’ve been enough for him to understand he wasn’t welcomed in your life anymore.

but then, why was he walking towards you? maybe for some closure, maybe to apologize, maybe only to say hi.

he couldn’t tell, but it was too late before he could make up his mind.

gojo tapped your shoulder quietly in the snacks aisle. he didn’t feel nervous, tense, or uneasy, almost as if the two of you were old friends that happened to meet again after so long, picking up the friendship where it had been left off. gojo was quick to realize that wasn’t the case, though.

“gojo!” you exclaimed, jumping at his sight.

had he always been that tall?

“it’s been a while,” he chuckled, looking back at your cart full. “you got a lot there, huh? you live closeby?”

gojo didn’t waste any time, pressing a hand against your cart, trapping you.

“no,” you’re quick to answer.

one of gojo’s eyebrows raises, and you look around, hoping someone can notice your state. 

“oh, then you like this store? it has more things than the others around the city, i guess-”

“i’m sorry, gojo, i’m busy and need to finish this as fast as i can, but it was nice seeing you again!”

gojo’s gaze stays on your figure as you run off with your cart. he knows you’re lying, but which two was a lie? he didn’t know.

gojo should’ve taken the hint.

he walks out of the store, noticing the clouds turn darker than they were before. he’s deliberately waiting for you outside, hoping he can get you to talk a little more. was he curious about you? not really. was he wishing he could get you back?

perhaps.

you step out of the store with the cart full of bags, and gojo approaches you fastly, startling you once again.

“need a ride?”

“oh, no, thank you,” you decline, pulling the bags out of the cart.

“then let me help you to your car,” he proposes, reaching out for one of your bags.

“no!” you exclaim, grabbing them faster than he could. “i-it’s fine, there’s a station right there so it’s fine.”

“oh no, are you silly? so many bags on the train, you’re in a rush and it’ll more likely rain? c’mon, i’ll drive you home.”

you decline his offer again, your mind running wild. it’s not that you didn’t want to accept his generosity, but suddenly all the fears you once thought were buried floated to the surface again. suddenly it felt like all the progress you had made the past years was being ripped out of your consciousness. 

“please, gojo, trust me, it’s fine,” you insist, grabbing onto your bags and trying to walk away. you look around, hoping someone sees the two of you, hoping someone would stop him. but no one is around, and no one but you can stop this.

but when you see gojo again, you finally understand it was never your fault.

gojo manages to get through you, and now you’re seated by his side as he mindlessly drives through the city. you texted your boyfriend the moment you got inside his car, telling him you were coming to his place and asking him to wait for you a few streets away. he instantly called you, but too nervous, you declined the call. you didn’t want gojo to know any more about your personal life, nor know you had moved away. if anything, you wanted gojo to disappear.

but could you tell him that?

“feels like the old times,” gojo mutters over the music on the radio.

like the old times?

an inexplicable feeling rises up your chest, yet you stay silent, wishing the ride was over. gojo would occasionally eye you, and everything would feel too familiar. 

only that this time the tables had turned. because you realized you hated gojo’s guts, and he realized he loved you dearly. 

“we should, hang out, again,” he mutters.

“i don’t think i can,” you speak, this time, your voice doesn’t falter, and gojo turns to face you.

“you got a boyfriend?”

“no,” you retort. “i’m busy.”

“you’ve always been busy, can’t you make some time for me again?”

you don’t answer. you knew too well, that if you say a word, you’ll explode. and as capable you thought you were of getting back to him, you could also remember clearly everything gojo had done to you. you don’t think it was worth the risk, trying to speak your heart out with someone like gojo.

he would never understand; he never wanted to. and he didn’t deserve to either.

“it’s here,” you announce, and gojo stops abruptly.

he frowns once he sees the man approaching his car, and you’re quick to jump out, telling him the bags were in the back. gojo steps out of the car too.

“hey, nice to meet you,” he says, and your boyfriend looks at you. “you’re his friend?”

“she’s my girlfriend.”

your breath hitches and you’re quick to grab his hand, distracting him from gojo’s conversation.

your boyfriend wasn’t an impulsive guy. he’s thoughtful and caring, fast to understand any situation he’s in front of.

but gojo is the complete opposite, and by experience, you know no one can go against gojo, no matter how hard they try.

“oh, that’s nice,” gojo taps the top of his car as he watches the two of you grabbing the bags. “i can help you carry some bags upstairs, if needed so.”

“it’s fine, thank you,” your boyfriend responds for you.

your boyfriend grabs your hand along the bags and walks towards the building gojo knows too well.

for your surprise, gojo doesn’t insist, and when you look back, he’s already inside the car, watching the two of you enter the building.

after that incident, you once again were incapable of leaving your apartment. and you didn’t want your boyfriend to leave his either.

gojo surely had changed, you noticed that the day you two met again. he looked taller, stronger, and unnerving. even though the two of you had been friends for many years, gojo was still unpredictable. you learnt that the last years of friendship you two shared.

“can i help you’” your boyfriend speaks.

gojo is at the other side of the door, in what was once your building, and outside what was once your apartment.

he cocked his eyebrows, incapable of hiding the smile creeping up his face.

“oh, you live together? that’s sweet,” gojo comments.

your boyfriend doesn’t respond, closing the gap between his body and the door so gojo couldn’t see indie his house, “yeah, what you want?”

“well, my birthday is coming and i thought maybe the three of us could celebrate it together. i don’t know if she told you, but we’re really good friends.”

your boyfriend nods, of course you haven’t.

“i don’t think we can, the both of us work.”

“oh, yeah? well, she always manages to make time for me, maybe i could ask her personally since you’re acting quite weird,” gojo tries again, his hand pressing against the surface of the white door.

“no, i’ll ask her and we’ll let you know.”

“fine, i’ll wait for your answer by saturday, if not, maybe i’ll come back,” gojo mutters, smirking.

your boyfriend wasn’t an aggressive guy. but, hell, he wished he could punch his face so bad.

he didn’t tell you anything about gojo’s visit nor invitation. you were already having a pretty bad time, you didn’t need more pressure put on your shoulders.

he genuinely thought he’d made the best decision - yet, he couldn’t help feel intimidated by the figure he happened to constantly meet.

gojo always told him it was a coincidence. he didn’t believe him, and fast enough, he started to understand your emotions. there was something eerie about the guy.

in no time, gojo had managed to push him against a wall. your boyfriend noticed what gojo claimed was coincidence was, indeed, his following, and too scared of him finding out you, in fact, didn’t live with him, your boyfriend started lying to you, claiming he had too much work and that he couldn’t go visit you. you facetimed and called each other often, but sadly, you felt uneasy, and your boyfriend knew too.

but he couldn’t bring himself to tell you.

“so, you made up your mind?”

your boyfriend stands at the other side of the door, startled by the tall white haired man. he’s smiling, as always, feigning a kind gesture as if the two of them were friends. 

“sorry man,” your boyfriend speaks up. is his voice shaking? “we couldn’t get a break from work.”

“oh, that’s unfortunate,” gojo clears his throat, smiling again. “then maybe you guys can pick a day and we can meet then.”

your boyfriend observes him, eyes darker despite the blue orbits. his tapping his feet against the floor, unable to read gojo, and he, simply smiles. he knows he’s made your boyfriend nervous, and suddenly, he’s reminded of you.

no wonder you’d get with a guy like that.

gojo knew he couldn’t let you, though, you couldn’t stay with a guy like him.

how could he protect you if something ever happened to you? this guy was so easy to manipulate. it didn’t take more than a faint punch and the closing door for him to lose his composure in front of gojo. wasn’t your boyfriend supposed to be strong enough, like him perhaps? what was this guy gonna do if he were to be in front a situation like this again? he can’t seem to land a single hit on gojo, instead, receiving the other end. gojo expects him to put up a fight, maybe ask him to stop, but he doesn’t.

he wasn’t the man for you. gojo was, he just had to prove it to you.

snapping a picture, gojo sighed.

“guess i’ll have to show her what she’s missing, don’t you think?”

your boyfriend can’t stop him when he walks out of the door, and neither can he watch him, his vision too red, and the iron smell stir his insides.

gojo looks through the guy’s phone. who leaves their phone without a password? he was only proving gojo his unworthiness. this guy wasn’t made for you.

all he had to do now is let you know.

you hear knocking on your door. it’s late, your roommate is out with her boyfriend and your boyfriend didn’t tell you he was coming. still, hopefully, you walked to the door, expecting him to surprise you.

what did surprise you was gojo on the other side, with flowers on his hands.

“did i surprise you?”

it’s too fast, or maybe not, you don’t know. gojo casually enters your house, the place you had so long worked to keep safe. he leaves the flowers on the table, and approaches you, wrapping his arms around your figure.

you’re not shaking nor reacting, and gojo takes in your warmth.

oh, how much he missed you.

“i missed you so much,” he whispers in your ear. “did you miss me?”

you reach out for your phone on the back of your pants, carefully bringing it in front of you to quickly deal your boyfriend’s number.

a phone starts ringing, and it doesn’t take you long to recognize the ringtone.

“oh, someone’s calling,” gojo mentions, letting you go to check your boyfriend’s phone. it’s like he was expecting you to do so, answering the call like he hadn’t seen your caller id on the screen. “yes?”

“why do you have my boyfriend’s phone?”

“we happened to meet before i came here, nothing too serious, don’t worry,” gojo pats your head. “he was being an asshole, though, i guess i just had to prove him.”

you gasp when gojo brings up the phone to your face, “w-what did you do?”

“told you, i just wanted to make sure he was enough for you. he wasn’t, though, so i had to come let you know.”

only proves we’re made for each other, don’t you think?

you shake your hand, taking a step back.

“listen, listen gojo,” you start. your voice is firm and your trying to keep your cool too. gojo has many times proven what he’s capable of, and right now, you only wanted to at least postpone whatever he planned to do. “i think you should go home, it’s like, my roommates coming with her boyfriend, i don’t think it’s fine if they see you here.”

“you think? we can find out though.”

“no, i don’t think we should, so, let’s leave it here, we can meet tomorrow, okay? we can go have lunch together and catch up like old times.”

gojo laughs, shaking his head as he looks down to his hands.

“why are you treating me like i’m crazy?” he asks, and your breath hitches. you stop and watch his movements, suddenly the atmosphere turning colder. “because i’m in love with you?”

“i’m sorry, gojo—”

“is it wrong to be in love? are you really blaming me for my feelings?”

you can’t tell if he’s being honest or putting up an act. once again, he’s managed to get inside your head. you don’t have more options and your minds clouded, unable to find a proper solution to the situation, unable to end this.

“just give me one last chance, that’s all i ask from you.”

gojo knows you too well, too much for your own safety and sometimes for his own liking.

and so you find yourself sitting at a restaurant a few streets away from your apartment, waiting for gojo to arrive. you didn’t believe you’d made an irresponsible decision - in fact, this was the smartest way to handle the situation. your boyfriend pleaded you to not come. you could understand that, he’d finally met gojo and he’d sensed it; gojo was far stronger mentally and physically than you’d suspect. it was fine. you weren’t nervous or scared, no, because, if there was something your therapist had told you, was that, as long as you set your boundaries and knew your worth, you wouldn’t fall for his tactics anymore. you didn’t come here to make friends with him again or to assure him everything was okay, you were here to let him know it was over. plus, you had decided to give yourself a day to decide what exactly you were gonna tell him.

“didn’t expect you to come in so early,” he mutters, taking a seat in front of you. “you’re fifteen minutes—”

“let’s talk,” you interrupt.

gojo can sense it, you’ve changed. when he looks at you, he can tell you’re not that deer he’d used to hunt for.

he wants to tell you the truth - the one he’s made up in his head.

“i love you, i’m in love with you.”

it hasn’t been more than five minutes since he sat down. gojo notices the lack of reaction, the indifference in your face, and suddenly, he’s feeling nervous. he’s not good with words and you know that, yet you’re not reacting the way he’d pictured, imagined, last night. you’re not telling him you’re in love with him too and that you want to try again. you’re not smiling or reaching out to hold his hand on the table, or getting up to wrap your arms around his body. you stay in your place, with eyes boring into his, waiting for him to say something else.

but he’s got nothing else to say, “gojo, i don’t love you.”

gojo doesn’t like that, you can tell by the soft tapping of his shoes under the table. the restaurant is full and you know the last thing he wants to do is make a scene. because, if he were to do so, his true colors would show.

“how are you sure about that? is it because of your boyfriend?” gojo asks, leaning closer to you. “you know he’s not the one, you know he doesn’t make you feel the way i do.”

“gojo, everything is in the past,” you sigh, tilting your head, tired. “the both of us made bad decisions, played with each other, hurt each other, but that’s in the past and it should stay there.”

“no! i don’t want us to stay in the past, i need us right now,” gojo mutters, and if you didn’t know him well, you’d almost think he was pleading. “we’re meant to be.”

“we’re not!” you exclaim, now losing your patience. “we hurt each other, can’t you remember that? i let you play with me and manipulate me, and now that you’ve realized i did nothing but try to please you you’re suddenly feeling guilty! but things don’t work like that, gojo, mistakes like that can’t be embedded that easily. you have to take responsibility of your actions.”

“i never wanted to hurt you, i wanted you to be stronger—”

“and i am now, thanks to you,” you say. “thanks to what you did to me i’ve finally understand that i deserve better.”

“how do you know i can’t make it up to you?”

“because i won’t let you, because i’ve found somebody else that’ll make it up to me, and it’s not you.”

“one chance is all i’m asking—”

“you already had your one chance, and you wasted it.”

“then another one—”

you’re sure six months ago you’d fell for that. you’d wished to give gojo another chance. after all, no one was more special to you than he was. you could say, until this day, gojo was the most special person in your life. that didn’t mean you deserved to suffer to help him make it up to you. whatever he wanted wasn’t something healthy and neither of you deserved it. but it wasn’t your job to make gojo understand that, it wasn’t your responsibility to fix gojo.

gojo knew you had changed. he knew he didn’t have the right to come back in your life, nor were you supposed to help him embed things. still, he wished he could still have you by his side.

“it’s time to move on.”

because now, when he looks up at the sky early in the morning to watch the sunrise, he knows he wasn’t made to stay by your side.

[gracewritesdsmp]

hey can you write fem reader x karl enemies to lovers?

Hey guys, I’m back! Sorry this took so long to write, and I hope it’s what you wanted. If it isn’t, message me and I’ll rewrite it. :)) also, there wasn’t really anywhere I could add fem!reader, so it’s gender neutral, sorry about that :(

Also, I’m not ver confident in my writing yet, so this probably really sucks, but I’m posting it anyways. Because I can only get better, right? Anyways, love you guys 💛 stay safe

——————————

Okay first of all, you guys would probably only be enemies because you didn’t know each other (I can’t see him just generally hating someone so idk)

You’d just dislike the tiny things about each other for no reason

But, for no reason at all, you’d glare at each other passing when on the mr beast sets

The other people you work with would be surprised because they’ve never seen him be so rude to someone

They’ve only ever seen sweet, angel Karl

Not this Karl, who just hates one of his co workers for seemingly no reason

But some of them understood, and saw how his eyes would linger on you, and yours on him

How the stares seemed like more than what you said it was

Maybe one day on set, you guys had called it a night, and you had to stay in hotel rooms (you see where I’m going with this? 👀)

Turns out, they didn’t have enough rooms, so you guys had to share

(We’re not gonna talk about how they totally did that on purpose to get you guys to stop being so mean to each other)

Anyways, you guys actually spend some time together, and talk. Like, really talk.

Sometimes just asking random questions, like what colored frog you’d be if you could choose

But others were deep, like how hard being in the public eye can be, and just generally opening up to the other person

You’d just feel so safe around him, that you could do that

By now, you’re both asking yourselves why you’ve hated the other person so much, when it’s so clear that they’re so genuine, kind, and trusting

Then you both look at each other, and you just know

You know that you love him, and he knows that he loves you

——————————

I’m sorry for how short (18 bullet points) and sucky this is, but I promise I’m trying :)) and I’m bound to improve soon

Have a good day/night/afternoon!! <33

[Requests are OPEN]

[charlie-minion]

Could the same SPN finale make a little more sense with some additions/changes?

I’ve had the idea for this post stuck in my head for days now, but with every new conspiracy theory and every new eventuality in the fandom, it became difficult to cool down enough to write something less ship-related and more narrative-focused.

What Supernatural and non-SPN fans have to understand is that a lot of us have expressed disappointment and frustration after 15x20, not because of Destiel (that’s just one part of the whole problem), but because the finale doesn’t make sense. Everything was leading up to something beautifully crafted until the end of 15x19. Beyond that, it’s hard to understand what happened. The story rendered all the character growth irrelevant, invalidated the themes of free will and “family don’t end in blood”, regressed to the original brother codependency they spent 15 years trying to overcome, made a queer non-binary character in a male vessel and a deaf female character basically disposable, and kept the show’s reputation of queerbaiting and misogyny until its very last breath.

That’s not going out with a bang! At least not a positive one. We all were ready to mourn Supernatural, but we wanted to feel proud of its legacy, and somehow TPTB managed to tarnish that legacy in less than 45 minutes. What a way to ruin the other more than 13,600 minutes of story!

It doesn’t matter who is to blame (The CW, Robert Singer, Andrew Dabb). It doesn’t matter why it happened (homophobia, censorship, marketing for Walker, bad writing). What matters is that at the end of the day, the finale that aired is what we got and that’s going to hurt for a long time. It hurts even more when we realize that the same finale could have easily made more sense, even without being perfect.

That’s what I want to do in this post. I want to show you how things would have been less jarring (for the fandom), while still keeping the goal to please the general audience.

Before I begin rewriting 15x20, I have to mention that I talked to my conservative boomer sister about the finale. She hasn’t watched the second half of season 15 yet (she’s waiting for Netflix to have it), but she’s been watching the show for a long time (she introduced me to it 8 years ago). She’s the perfect example of a viewer from the general audience. Loves the show but doesn’t give a second thought to it and definitely isn’t paying attention to character development or themes. Doesn’t engage with fandom, actors, or any of the show’s social media. Pure GA! When I told her the series finale had aired, she asked me about it and I refused to give her spoilers. Because of that, she told me the ending SHE wanted. She said she would be happy with either of two possibilities: the boys retiring and finally living a normal life OR they going to heaven and finding peace at last. She saw Sam and Dean as a unit, which means: both retiring or both going to heaven. AND she saw Cas as part of that, too. She wasn’t so sure about Jack. And for her, we could use the “Eileen who?” and it wouldn’t be a joke. She didn’t remember her.

NOW IT’S TIME TO WRITE A NEW VERSION OF 15X20 (KEEPING 15X18 AND 15X19 EXACTLY THE SAME AS THEY AIRED). This will be a very long post:

The opening remains almost the same. No “Carry on my wayward son” to induce feels. Too soon and too predictable! (Reasoning: Everyone was expecting it to play right there, so it would bring more tears at the end)

In the opening, after the scene where Jack says “People won’t need to pray to me or sacrifice to me”, we also see the scene from 15x19 where he says “I won’t be hands on”. Then we see the rest of the opening as it was. (Reasoning: People needed to be reminded that Jack would NOT intervene and that’s why later on, he would NOT save Dean).

We get the same montage, but when Sam takes a break from his morning run, we see him reading a message on his phone. A simple: “Hey Sam, what’s new?” from Eileen. Sam smiles fondly and begins to type a response we don’t get to see. The next scene continues the same, Sam making breakfast. (Reasoning: A text was a very simple way to show that Eileen was alive and still in communication with Sam).

The montage slowly ends as Sam enters the library (not after he sits down). He seems to be talking on the phone but we only hear an “I’ll tell him. Bye”. As he walks towards the table, he tells Dean: “Charlie says hi. Mentioned something about Stevie’s perfect scrambled eggs we have to try.” Dean’s answer is “Awesome!” (Reasoning: Just ONE line was needed to unbury Charlie and her girlfriend. ONE LINE).

Sam sits down, opens his laptop and everything continues the same. The title card shows for the last time.

YOU SEE? In the first 4 minutes they could have acknowledged that THREE WOMEN were alive and safe: Eileen, Charlie and Stevie. It wasn’t hard! Don’t blame bad writing on Covid! Now let’s continue.

Sam and Dean arrive at the Pie Fest just the same. Dean goes to get some “damn pie” and Sam takes out his phone. He dials and when someone picks up, he says “Hey, Jody, how are ya?” We don’t hear the rest of the conversation. The scene moves to Dean coming with his 6 portions of pie. Dean sits down and Sam tells him, “Talked to Jody. The other hunters haven’t had much work lately.” “That’s good, isn’t it?”, Dean says. All we get from Sam is “Yeah.” So, Dean looks at him and asks “what’s wrong?” like it happened in the episode. (Reasoning: Again, a couple of lines to make sure the people that were killed in 15x18 are safe and remembered by the boys in 15x20. Why is this important? Because they’re family!)

The conversation about Sam’s sad face happens the same. Sam is the one that mentions Cas and Jack. (Reasoning: Because this episode was so Sam-centered, it’s obvious he was the protagonist in the finale. If we see him communicating with Eileen, Charlie, and Jody, then it’s NORMAL, even expected of him to be the one to bring up Cas and Jack). Without these additions, it’s harder for people to understand that most of the finale was NOT from Dean’s POV but from Sam’s.

Dean’s “if we don’t keep living, then all that sacrifice is gonna be for nothing” stays the same. (Reasoning: I believe it’s necessary that the show sticks to the importance of “letting go” and “what is dead should stay dead” for the first time ever because the message is “even when you lose someone you love, you can still find some form of happiness and keep living, for you and for them, because that’s what they would have wanted”. Bringing someone back means “I can’t live without you”, and that’s just more codependency. It’s how the demon deals began in the Winchester family –Mary being the first one to do it. This would explain why Dean didn’t ask Jack to bring Cas back, as he asked Chuck. He understood Jack was NOT going to interfere anymore and accepted it. Besides, when Cas saved Dean from hell, Dean thought he didn’t deserve to be saved. This time that Cas saved him, Dean finally feels worthy enough to accept that YES, HE DESERVED TO BE SAVED ALL ALONG, just as much as he deserved to be loved by that angel of the Lord. In this scene, Dean also says that the pain is not gonna go away, which means that from HIS PERPECTIVE, it still hurts that Cas is not there. The problem is that the finale is not showing his POV but Sam’s.  

Sam pies Dean on the face just the same. (Reasoning: That part was just to avoid ending the scene on a sad note).

Everything related to the case happens exactly the same. (Reasoning: At this point, people don’t really care about the MoTW, they care about Sam and Dean).

NOTE 1: The case is important to show that even when the Winchesters are finally free of Chuck’s influence, they CHOOSE to keep hunting. It isn’t something they do out of revenge or because it is their destiny anymore. Maybe they were forced into the life at first, but they’ve learned to find joy in saving people. Being hunters is who they are. However, the fact that a job application was shown on Dean’s desk is also important because it means he was willing to explore what else was there for him besides hunting. Maybe he could find a balance? Maybe he was thinking it was time to quit? We will never know! The thing is that Sam only finds out about it when he goes into Dean’s room after his brother is dead, so maybe that’s when it hits him that Dean wanted to explore his options, and Sam starts to think it’s time for him to do the same.  

NOTE 2: I believe the masks the vampires are wearing is something we can blame on covid. If they had their faces covered, it was easier to use people from the SPN crew for some scenes, instead of using more actors unnecessarily.

NOTE 3: When Sam and Dean arrive at the barn, we get 3 visuals to remember Cas in the same scene (those are for the fandom, not for the general audience): a) the barn, obviously; b) the bag that resembles Cas’ trenchcoat so much that many people thought that’s what it was; and c) two feathers hanging on Dean’s right when he opens the trunk.

The scene with the throwing star happens the same. (Reasoning: The episode is still told from Sam’s point of view, so it makes sense that he fondly sees his brother as a man child).

Jenny the vampire? Uhhh… I mean, it’s not the best piece of writing I’ve ever seen, but it’s not the worst, so okay. That stays the same. (Reasoning: There is none, but she’s not what really ruined the finale, so whatever!)

Dean still dies impaled on a rebar. (Reasoning: OK. HERE ME OUT!!! I hate as much as everyone else that Dean is killed. I think it’s lazy writing, but that’s what we got and I can’t change that in this re-write, so if killing Dean is what we have to work around, then, memes aside, death by rebar is better and here’s why. There’s no one to blame for Dean’s death: no Chuck (the boys were willingly hunting even after Chuck was defeated), no vampires (they were all killed and were no real threat, so it was impossible for Sam to begin a quest for revenge against all vampires. What was Sam going to blame? A rebar? Can you kill it? Hunt it? NO. It was an ordinary death, a stupid accident. Just like any person can die at any moment by slipping on a banana peel. Is it a good death? No, but it’s good to know he doesn’t die trying to save Sam or Cas, because Dean Winchester is NOT willing to give up his life in exchange for anyone else’s anymore.

Sam takes out his phone and says he’ll call for help, but his phone is more visible to the audience. He dials and it’s almost to his ear when Dean stops him and Sam hesitantly hangs up. (Reasoning: People have complained that Sam didn’t call an ambulance, but actually he tried to. It’s just that people missed that part, maybe?)

After Sam puts his phone back in his pocket and says “OK” to Dean, he adds, “I’ll pray to Jack”. Dean’s immediate answer is: “No hands on, remember?” “But Dean”, Sam says, and Dean interrupts him with “OK listen to me” and tells Sam what to do with the kids they rescued. (Reasoning: Jack is God now and how come Sam didn’t remember? The viewers remembered, so it was necessary to include a line that ruled the option out and that showed Dean didn’t want Jack to intervene. The rest was fine).

The lines “You knew it was always gonna end like this for me. It was supposed to end like this, right?” disappear completely from Dean’s monologue. (Reasoning: This is the most problematic part of Dean’s dying speech. He fought God and earned free will, he is no longer controlled by fate or destiny. Accepting that he is supposed to die on a hunt regresses his character development and denies his desire to keep living. This was a total mistake and should be removed).

Instead, if going to heaven is the ending TPTB wanted to give Dean, at least he should say something more empowering. Sam tells him that both of them are going to take the kids somewhere safe. Dean answers and the scene follows like this: “No. Sammy, we made our choice, didn’t we?”, he smiles with difficulty. “We were free to write our own story and we did. We decided to keep saving people, hunting things. Because it’s what we love despite the risks.” (Reasoning: If Dean’s going to die it doesn’t have to feel like it was always meant to be that way. He should die knowing that he exerted his free will until his last breath).

The rest of the dialogue between Sam and Dean happens almost the same. Except that instead of Dean saying “‘cause when it all came down to it, it was always you and me. It’s always been you and me”, he says “’cause when it all came down to it, we’ve always had each other’s backs. Always.” And instead of Sam saying “Don’t leave me”, he says “I still can try to save you.” (Reasoning: It sounds way less codependent without diminishing the importance of their love and support for each other).

Besides, let’s change Dean’s “I’m not leaving you” for “You don’t have to be alone. You’ve still got family.” The rest stays the same word by word. (Reasoning: Dean reminds Sam that “family don’t end in blood” and there are still lots of people out there who love Sam and will be with him).

“I love you so much, my baby brother” stays exactly the same. (Reasoning: Dean always had trouble to express the big L word. I always believed and said many times that before Dean could say “I love you” to Cas or any other character, he had to say it to Sam. So, this is important as part of Dean speaking his truth).

The last part when Dean insists Sam tell him that it’s okay stays the same. (Reasoning: It’s the final moment when the codependency cycle breaks. No more running in circles).

The forehead touch between them stays the same. (Reasoning: I think I would do something similar if my sister were dying. I know there are w*ncest shippers out there, but it shouldn’t matter because the moment feels appropriate for that kind of goodbye). 

See? There are changes but not too many. That’s why I’ve been saying that it was easier to get it right, yet they still managed to screw it up.

The second montage stays the same. (Reasoning: Life goes on, but of course Sam has to mourn).

The call about a case in Austin remains the same. (Reasoning: It’s the only part of the episode where someone from the found family is mentioned, so I think that Donna’s name is perfect in that moment. However, without the other additions I’ve made in this re-write, that off-hand mention feels too little. Its purpose was to tell the viewers that if Donna was alive, so were the others, but the way the episode was executed gave us an isolated Sam, incapable of having friends and a family without Dean).  

After 30 minutes of Sam’s POV, let’s finally see the last bit of Dean’s POV that we’ll ever get.

Dean arrives in Heaven and Bobby receives him. All their conversation stays almost the same, except that after mentioning Rufus and before saying “and your mom and dad…”, Bobby adds an “Ellen and Jo let me borrow their place”. (Reasoning: If you’re gonna put the man outside the Harvelle’s place, at least mention them for Jack’s sake!).

Besides, after Bobby tells Dean that Sam will be along and that time in heaven is different, Dean gives a small smile and says, “Well, there’s no rush. I want him to have a long, happy life.” Bobby answers with: “I would expect nothing less from you, boy” and tells him he got everything he could ever want, etc., just like it happened in the episode, and finishes by asking “What are you gonna do now, Dean?” (Reasoning: It’s important we know for sure that Dean is NOT codependent anymore and that he doesn’t expect to have a miserable afterlife just because his brother is not there yet).

Instead of saying “I think I’ll go for a drive” Dean says, “I think I know what I want” and walks towards baby. Bobby still tells him to have fun. (Reasoning: “Know what I want” is ambiguous enough to help us introduce the last piece of the puzzle, the one thing Dean’s wanted for many seasons and has never been able to express).

 The biggest change is coming:

Dean gets on the Impala and has a moment of silence while he contemplates the wheel. He begins to pray: “Hey, Cas, you got your ears on? I hear you’ve been busy working on this updated Heaven with Jack. You were right about him, Cas. You had faith in him and he saved us all. You could always see the best in everyone, even when they couldn’t see it themselves. Even when I couldn’t see it myself. There’s so much I want to tell you. Maybe you can visit sometime. I hope prayer’s still a thing up here.” (Reasoning: Dean’s side of the confession was unaddressed and that was terrible writing. If there was no way to get him to speak his truth textually, at least take him as close to it as possible).

We listen to a flutter of wings and a “Hello, Dean” from the back seat. We don’t see Cas, but the camera shows us Dean’s cocky smile and he says “Took you long enough.” He turns around slowly. End of scene. (Reasoning: The flutter of wings confirms that angels have their wings back and ties that loose end. The final “hello, Dean” was highly anticipated and it made sense. If Misha couldn’t be there to film, for whatever reason, or if the problem was the kind of conversation Dean and Cas would have, then don’t show it, but leave the door open. Let us know that the two characters were reunited and will talk, but whatever Dean has to say is so private that it’s not for us to hear, only for Cas.  

We finally hear “Carry on my wayward son” and get a montage that begins with Sam playing with his kid. Then we see Dean driving, super happy, and Sam living his life to the fullest. We still get Sam’s Blurry Wife, BUT… we see pictures of Eileen in the living room (not just of John, Mary, Sam, and Dean). We also see photos of Jody, Donna, Charlie, and AU!Bobby. (Reasoning: FAMILY DON’T END IN BLOOD).

The scene where Sam is wearing the party wig and looks miserable inside the Impala is cut and nobody talks about it ever again because it never existed. We get a scene of Sam teaching his son how to fix the car instead. (Reasoning: First of all, don’t give Sam a life where years later he’s still in pain. Second of all, the fucking wig was a crime).

Sam’s dying scene stays the same. The only thing is that his son signs a couple of phrases to him before actually speaking. (Reasoning: More confirmation that Dean Jr. is Eileen’s son).

We hear the final “Evanescence-like Carry on my wayward son”. Again we see the photos and there’s family other than the Winchesters there. (Reasoning: Obvious at this point).

The rest is exactly the same. The show began with two brothers and it’s okay if the last scene is with the two brothers reunited in Heaven. At this point, the other parts of the story are acceptable enough for us to feel happy that they get to see each other again after years of a happy (after)life.

Now look me in the eye and tell me this was too hard to execute. I still think that bad writing is a thing we can’t deny here, adding to the possible meddling of the Network. Maybe Dabb wanted us to hate the finale because he couldn’t get away with what he truly wanted. If that was his intention, then kudos to him. He and The CW really gave us a finale that only 30% of the fandom liked.

I hope you guys have enjoyed this and it helps to give you some peace of mind. In my heart, this was the finale we got. It wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t drop the ball either.

[karlyanalora]

Can you do 7 for the Transformers prompts?

Boy this one was popular. Hope you both enjoy it!

Despite popular belief, Lugnut and Megatron’s friendship is a two-way street. Megatron does listen to Lugnut. And when Lugnut disagrees with him, it’s a serious red flag. It takes a few solar cycles to realize the random transwarping was caused by a plasma dynamic thruster. Eager to escape Starscream, Lugnut discovered a small room within the ship that just barely comfortably fit him. Not big enough for a berth, but Lugnut had long figured out how to recharge without such luxuries. He ripped a panel off the wall and hotwired himself into the circuitry below and slept sitting up.

The dreams were immediate and they were clearly Omega Supreme’s thoughts. Lugnut had suspected this might happen; he’d dealt with Titans before. But the contents were surprising.

Omega was scared. He didn’t want to hurt anyone, much less his friends. He didn’t want to fight and he felt bad about having to. He just wanted to protect people.

“Ratchet,” he would cry, “I’m scared. I miss you, Ratchet. I don’t know what do.”

It hurt Lugnut’s spark to hear. This wasn’t a hardened Autobot. Omega was like any other cold-constructed mech; young and forced into a role they neither understood nor desired. A mech the Decepticons had sworn to free.

Manually controlling him now felt a lot like Shadow Play. A lot like what had happened to Lugnut when the Council stole his face. Something he had sworn to put a stop two.

On the fourth solar cycle, Lugnut approached Megatron.

The Decepticon leader was in a rare moment away from Starscream and the bridge of Omega Supreme.

“My Lord,” Lugnut said tentatively.

Megatron instantly straightened. While he was certainly one to pit Lugnut and his other followers against each other in a bootlicking contest, he did actually did value the brute. And that tone meant it was time to pay attention.

“Yes, Lugnut?”

Lugnut was tapping his pincers together nervously and avoiding optic contact. “I’ve been thinking…about…Omega Supreme. I, erm, hotwired him for some recharge away from Starscream’s nagging.”

Megatron smiled dryly. “A wise course of action.”

“While recharging, I have been privy to some of his thoughts. What I found was…well, Ithinkwhatwearedoingiswrong.”

Megatron blinked, his CPU whirling to decipher what Lugnut had just said. “What?”

“What we are planning to do to him, using him to fire on his friends like a puppet, it’s Shadow Play, my Lord. He’s just another cold-constructed mech just like…you. The kind of mech we swore to save.”

Megatron was quiet for a moment. “But we are saving him. Once the Autobots are destroyed…”

Lugnut’s optic darkened. “You’d have to rewrite his personality for him to ever see that as a good thing.”

Oh. That would definitely be Shadow Play, Megatron thought. He shut his mouth and listened.

“Using him to hurt Ratchet would be like you being forced to kill Terminus. I have seen his memories of the medic. He is a mech like Terminus and has been a good mentor and friend to Omega. We can’t do this; it’s wrong!”

“Then what are we supposed to do?” Megatron asked sincerely.

“Let him cart us off to Trypticon Prison and let the rest of our people starve and dwindle to extinction? Give him back to the Autobots so he can kill us another day? What should I do?”

Lugnut’s voice was soft. “You once believed we could find peace between the two Cybertronian races. If it is to be done, Optimus Prime is the leader the Autobots need. Together, you two could change things. But first, we have to change. Tell me, would Terminus approve of the things you’ve done? Of how you’ve driven Starscream to hate you, he who once saw you as a sire?”

Megatron fell silent for a long time. So long Lugnut almost left.

“No.” Megatron turned away. “Set a course for Earth and raise the truce signal. We will try peace one last time.”

[maddiwrites]

Family and Hope

Pairing: Routledge!Reader x JJ (Kinda) 

Summary: A month after your brother disappeared, you’re confronted by someone you never thought you would see again, forcing you to come to terms with reality.

Note: I made this a reader x JJ pairing but the focus is more on the relationship with the person who’s introduced in this fic! Also if you haven't yet, go over to my page and read my OBX rewrite and let me know what you think (:

Word Count: 4.2k (Do I know how to write a short fic? No.)

You’ll never forget the day that Shoupe told you he and the FBI “lost” your brother. “Lost” them. Like they were a toddler’s toy that had just been misplaced. No one knew if they were dead or alive, but most made the conclusion that they were never coming back. 

You were ultimately left with no family. After you dad disappeared, all you had was John B. And just like that, he was gone too. Your legal guardian, Ward Cameron, obviously threw you out. But it didn’t take much effort because you weren’t going to go back there anyway. See Ward, whether it be on the streets or on the Local News, nauseated you to no end. You knew he was the reason your dad and brother were gone. The greedy mother fucker would do anything to sit on the highest throne of success and fortune - even going as far as murder. And you knew this world well enough to know that he would never face the consequences of his actions. Because he’s wealthy with an outstanding reputation on this island. And if that wasn’t enough, people now felt sorry for him because his daughter was gone, and everyone blamed that on John B.

Although you were left with no blood relatives, you continue to be surprised by how far your real family would go for you. Mr. Heyward, although always disapproving of you and your friends’ antics, offered to take you in. He promised a roof over your head and food on the table until you turned eighteen so you wouldn’t have to experience foster care. You couldn’t be more grateful especially knowing that he already struggled to support his wife and only kid. 

You tried your hardest to continue living your life as normal as possible. Most days, you pretended like your brother wasn’t even dead. He was just gone. On vacation. Living life. He was coming back. That’s what you told yourself, anyway. You sound like John B when your dad first disappeared. The police called you crazy. Your friends felt sorry for you. But you didn’t care. You weren’t going to give up hope.

Your boyfriend, JJ, tried his best to be supportive, but he was drowning in his own sorrow and grief. He lost his best friend too and truly believed he was never coming back. It was hard for him to get out of bed in the mornings. He was fired from his hotel job, and the couple of people who still let him mow his lawn barely talked to him. The beatings from his dad were worse than ever. Luke almost killed him when he heard it was The Phantom that had sunk. The only reason JJ is still breathing is because the police showed up after one of their neighbors called in for a noise complaint. Since the Chateau was no longer a safe escape - always being investigated by the police - he was stuck in his own home. Luckily, his dad was gone most days, which allowed you to sneak in every once in a while.

You brought him food and water whenever you could, always checking for Luke’s pick up truck before sneaking in through the window. Although you hated how depressed JJ was, it gave you something to focus on. Helping JJ with his every day tasks helped distract you from thinking about your own feelings about John B’s loss. 

Even though it was hard to tell, JJ worried about you. You were running from his house, to Kie’s, to Pope’s, finding anyone and anything to avoid your own feelings about your brother. He was afraid that one of these days you were gonna break. And he was terrified because he didn’t know what would trigger that reaction. 

~ ~ ~

“Oh, good. You’re up,” You crawled through JJ’s window and watched him sip on a PBR can as he looked for a shirt that didn’t smell completely awful. You forced a smile when JJ barely glanced at you and set the coffees and two granola bars on his night stand. “I know it’s not a lot, but it’s all I could afford right now.”

Kie’s father basically fired you from the Wreck, telling you nicely that you were scaring people away. At the end of the day, everyone on the island thought you helped a murderer escape. A murderer you were related to. So you’ve been working for Heyward behind the the counter, making less than minimum wage. 

“Okay...” you drawled out. “Well, I have to get going. Heyward needs me their early, but maybe we can go somewhere tonight? Smoke on the beach or something? Just the two of us.”

JJ looked at you sadly, wanting to say something. But he thought maybe tonight would be better. You were in a good mood - a facade he knew you put on every day to avoid talking about your family. He hated seeing you cry, but he thought if he broke down your walls now, it would help you heal faster. Even if you thought you didn’t need to heal.

But instead, he just nodded and let you leave without saying “goodbye” or “I love you.” A phrase he hasn’t mentioned since John B disappeared. 

You kissed him on the cheek and walked yourself out the front door, ignoring the crack in your heart when JJ turned away from you.

~ ~ ~

A couple hours later, JJ was waking up from another nap when Pope blew up his phone with missed calls and text messages. At first, he immediately thought of the worse possible case scenario. Something happened to you or maybe even Kie. He even let his mind wander to the possibility that they found John B’s body. But instead, what he read, only left him completely confused. 

He rushed over to Heyward’s, hoping to beat you there. 

~ ~ ~

Mr. Heyward didn’t know what to expect when his former friend showed up at his door. He was mixed with all different emotions. Relieved, confused, scared. Behind her was a man about his age. Tall, fair skinned, hair slicked back, and dressed in slacks and a button down shirt. 

“Caroline....what are you doing here?”

“I hear my daughter is living with you now. I was hoping I’d be able to see her,” Your mother admitted, feeling sheepish and a little embarrassed. “May I come in?” Heyward told himself he should slam the door in her face and tell her to go back to wherever the hell she came from. She used to be his friend, then out of nowhere, she up and left her entire family behind, without another word to them or any of her friends. He was hurt and betrayed, and he knew if he was feeling this way, he could only imagine how you would feel. 

But although Heyward loved you like his own, he felt wrong hiding your mother from you. It wasn’t his decision to make whether or not you got to confront her. 

He opened the door wider for her and her husband, he assumed, to enter. Heyward ignored their judgmental gazes as they inspected his home and called out for his wife. 

Mrs. Heyward stopped in her tracks when she caught a glimpse of the blonde hair she remembered so clearly. You were a spitting image of your mother. Long blonde hair, a button nose, and perfectly straight teeth. The one thing you didn’t get from her though was her selfish personality. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” She seethed. Mrs. Heyward loved you like a daughter and felt protective when someone who hurt you so badly in the past came back. 

“Honey...” Mr. Heyward placed a light hand on her shoulder to comfort her and then motioned for the two seats at their kitchen table for your mother and her husband to take.

“Y/N’s not here,” Mrs. Heyward glared. 

“Anne, I know you don’t think I have any right to be here -”

“Right?” 

“But she’s my daughter!” Your mother protested with tears in her eyes. 

Your mother grew up on the Cut too, and just like you, she was able to charm her way into anything. A job, a relationship, a better test grade. There was a time when Caroline, John, Anne and Heyward would cause mischief in Kildare County. But unlike the rest of the group, she was always interested in getting out of the Outer Banks and starting a life somewhere else. She knew she was settling when she married John Routledge so the second a better opuurtunity came around, she didn’t hesitate to take it. Even if it mean’t leaving her family behind. 

“Mom...” Pope walked out from the hallway and looked between Caroline and the man next to her who had his hand on her thigh. He never met Y/N and John B’s mother. Never even seen a picture of her. But looking at her, it was clear to him that this was their mother. You looked just like her, he thought. 

“Pope, this is Caroline...” Heyward hesitated and looked at the woman for clarification. 

“Bennett.” She confirmed and placed her hand on top of her husband’s, interlacing their fingers. “I’m Y/N’s mom.”

Pope noticed how she didn’t even mention John B. He wondered how cold a woman had to be to not even mention her dead son’s name. 

“Go to your room, Pope,” His mother said softly. 

Pope nodded and glanced one last time at Caroline and the man next to her before pulling his phone out of his back pocket and texting JJ. He knew Y/N wasn’t going to take well to the news that her mother was in town. All her life, he heard Y/N saying nothing but horrible things about the woman. You hated her. 

He waited in his room until he heard the familiar revving of JJ’s bike outside his house. Pope ran to the front door before his father could push JJ away. JJ stormed into the house and stopped when he was face to face with the woman he’s grown to hate too. Just like you had with his mother. 

“JJ -” Heyward stood up and approached the boy, but JJ flinched out of his grasp.

“You shouldn't be here,” JJ pointed at her. 

“I- I’m sorry. Who -”

“This is JJ. Pope’s friend -” Anne tried explaining.

“And Y/N’s boyfriend, and I’m telling you right now, she won’t want to see you.”

Caroline nodded as if she understood where JJ was coming from. But Caroline was use to getting what she wanted. Now more than ever. And she wasn’t leaving OBX without seeing her daughter. Maybe even convincing her to come home with them.

“JJ -” Heyward tried to say again, but the room grew silent when the front door creaked open again, which only meant that you were home.

“Hey! Who’s car is out front? I’ve never seen...” You slowly came to a halt when you were met with Heyward, Anne, Pope, and JJ all staring at you with pity and concern. You laughed nervously. “What -” But then you saw her. The woman and her husband at the kitchen table as if they were here for a glass of wine and friendly conversation. 

You recognized her mom immediately from old photographs your dad refused to throw away throughout the entirety of his life. You use to think she was beautiful. Sometimes, you were even jealous of how she was able to look amazing in every picture. Extremely photogenic. 

You never thought about what you would do if you ever saw her again. You never thought the day would come where you would be face to face with the person you grew up hating more than the entire population of Kooks. But you stared into the same pale blue eyes you saw every time you looked in the mirror and your skin burned with rage. 

“What the hell is this?” You looked at Heyward for some answers, ignoring her presence overall. 

Heyward coughed awkwardly. “Caroline was hoping to speak with you.”

“About what?” Heyward glanced back at Caroline. He truly didn’t know why she was here. They hadn’t gotten there yet. 

JJ stepped in front of you and pulled you in close so his mouth was next to your ear. “We can leave.” 

“No,” You shook your head and stepped away from him to get a good look at your mother. “No. I want to know what you’re doing here. What makes you think I want to talk to you?”

“Sweetie, I know you have every right to hate me. But I come here in peace -” Your mother tried explaining, but you cut her off.

“Peace?” You scoffed. “Where the hell have you even been?” “Georgia,” She said. Your mouth dropped open in shock. She was only a couple states below you. “This is Byron, my husband.” You clenched your teeth together and held your stare on the two of them. You didn’t know who you hated more. Your mother or the man who took her away from you. Your mother sighed and looked down at her intertwined fingers with her husband. “I heard about your brother on the News.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” You rolled your eyes. She sounded more like a sympathetic neighbor than a mourning mother. She talked about John B as if he wasn’t her blood too.

“I came here as soon as I could -”

“That was a month ago!” You raised your voice.

“I know,” Your mother choked, starting to get flustered. “I got caught up with work and -” It’s been a while since someone put her in her place. 

“Work? You knew about John B and you cared more about your work? What the hell do you even do, Martha Stewart?”

“Y/N...” Anne said softly, pulling you out of your dark head and reminding you to take a breath. Anne didn’t like her either, but all this yelling wouldn’t get either of you anywhere. 

“Fine,” You took the seat across the table from Caroline and leaned back on it with your arms crossed in front of your chest. “Your here now. So tell me what for. We’re not having a funeral for John B. Not until I see a body.”

Caroline looked at her husband for some sort of encouragement. Although he was unsure now more than ever, Byron subtly nodded his head for his wife to tell her daughter the reason they came up here. “Byron and I...we want you to come home.”

“Home?” You cocked a brow.

“With us,” Byron added. 

You couldn’t help but chuckle - really belly laugh at what you were hearing. You couldn’t believe the ridiculous suggestion she made. You were astounded that she even thought you would agree. 

“We’ve seen the News and read the papers. I mean the stuff you kids have been through -”

“That’s enough,” You stood up.

“We have a beautiful home. You’d have your own room, a pool in the backyard. We even have two other daughters! Ten and seven. They’re excited to meet you.”

You tried your best to ignore her as you grabbed JJ’s arm to pull him out with you. But everything she said was like a ringing in your ears you couldn’t escape. Little did Caroline know, each luxury she threw at you felt like a stab in the back. 

“I’m outta here -”

“Y/N Y/M/N Routledge! I am your mother!” Caroline stood up, her chair screeching against the hardwood. She slapped her palm against the wooden table and narrowed her eyes at her daughter. In her own head, she couldn’t believe how ungrateful you were. She was offering you a new and better life - one that wouldn’t make you dress like your entire wardrobe was from the thrift store, or sleep on your friend’s couch, or be looked at every day as a criminal. She was offering you a new beginning with the only blood relative you had left and you were gonna turn your back on her?

You swiveled on your heels so fast that your head started spinning. Your vision clouded with the color red and your fists clenched against your side. You glared at the woman who gave birth to you - hating how she acted as if she knew what was best for you when she didn’t even know you at all. 

“I don’t have a mother!” You screamed. “She turned her back on us when we were three! I don’t even know you. The only reason I recognized you is because my dad kept pictures of you in frames in his office.” Tears pricked at your eyes and you shook your head. “And I felt sorry for him that he still held onto memories of the woman who seemed so useless.”

Your voice cracked and you hated that you sounded so weak. You wondered what John B would say if he was standing next to you right now. He’d probably be more calm. He’d probably listen to what your mother had to offer and then kindly tell her that the two of you were better off without her. John B use to always keep you grounded. He calmed you down when you were on a rampage or feeling panicked. He taught you reason and discipline. Without him, you had none of that.

“You left,” You continued. “You turned your back on us when we were three. And Dad? He had no idea what he was doing. The man could barely hold a job let alone two kids. But unlike you, he did it. Hell, he even bought me my first box of tampons! He held me through my first heartbreak and taught me how to surf. And just like that,” You snapped your fingers, “he was gone. And you, my so-called mother, still didn’t show up. So John B and I...we became our own parent. We paid the bills, worked our asses off to pay the rent, and passed our classes. I learned to fend for myself because you weren’t there! You didn’t do shit for our family.” You pointed to yourself. “I did. I took care of us.”

“That’s not fair...” Your mother’s voice shook. She couldn’t even look at you as she became so overwhelmed with shame and guilt. 

“Not fair?” You bent down so you were eye level with her and looked at her like she had just grown two heads. “You just listed off all the amazing luxuries you have while I was left with absolutely nothing and you want to talk about what is fair?”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Bryon stepped in and stood up from his seat, placing a hand on your mother’s shoulder to try to comfort her.

“No, I’m just getting started,” You glared at him. “And I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but this is between me and her. And I know she grew up on the Cut and is more than capable of fighting her own battles.” You averted your attention back to your mother. “You don’t get to waltz into my life over ten years later and pretend like nothing’s happened. My dad’s dead and my brother probably is too! I have no one left, but the family right here.” You point to the people behind you. Mr and Mrs Heyward, Pope, and JJ. “And I’ll choose these people over you every single time. So no. You’re not my mother.” You looked her up and down. “You’re nothing to me.”

You spun around on your heels and grabbed your back pack on the way out. 

“Y/N...” Mrs. Heyward tried calling out to you, but no one really tried to stop you. They knew you needed to get out from under the same roof as your mother, the woman behind all your anger. 

“I got her...” JJ told the Heyward family quietly. He glanced at Pope, who nodded once at him, before walking out of the house to find you. Only you were already gone and your bike was missing. 

Your feet moved faster than your head. You didn’t know where you were going, you just knew you had to get as far away from that woman as possible. Your tears made your vision all blurry and your brain pounded against your skull. Your throat felt like sandpaper with every heavy breath you took. 

You practically fell off your bike in front of the one place you had been avoiding for weeks. It looked just like how you had left it, only now it was wrapped in yellow caution tape. Shockingly, no one was here. No police, FBI, or any other government official. It was just you and your thoughts. 

You pulled the squeaky porch door open and were immediately flooded with memories. Empty beer cans and the butt of old cigarettes and blunts littered the floor like you were all lounging here yesterday. Guess CSI doesn’t hire a clean up crew when they are done. 

You took another step into your house. Your brother’s room was to your right, his door open, enticing you to go in. But you couldn’t. Your heart twisted in your chest at the thought of John B. He should have been here. He should have never left! How could he? He was your brother. Your older brother, even if it was only by a few minutes. He was supposed to protect you. He was supposed to scare off all the boys who showed interest in you, yell at you when you’re bathing suit showed too much skin, take care of you when you were sick, help you with your homework, be the cool uncle to your kids one day. And he was gone. Everyone was gone!

You didn’t remember how it happened, but you were in your dad’s office. This place use to be a mystery to you - a room where your Dad hid most of the time and locked when he wasn’t home. You always wondered what was so special about this room. Now you knew it was nothing. It was a curse. This room was the reason your dad and brother were gone. 

A screech ripped from your throat as your swept your arms across your father’s desk. Everything on top, papers, paper weights, pens, folders, all clattered to the floor. With all your strength, you flipped the desk over on its side. The wooden floor rumbled under your feet when it fell with a bang. 

Your breath hitched in your throat and you felt like you couldn't breathe. You stepped back until your back hit the wall. Your fingers raked through the hair near your scalp and you pulled on the roots. You body slid down the wall until you were on the ground. You cried into your knees, weeping for your brother and dad. You have never felt pain like this before. You were physically healthy but it felt like someone took a vacuum into your body and was sucking the life out of you. 

You didn’t even hear anyone else come into the house over your loud sobs. It wasn’t until you felt arms wrap around you that you looked up. JJ pulled you into his chest, curling you so that your body fit perfectly against his. He whispered against your head and kissed it after every sentence. He told you it was going to be okay. 

“He can’t be gone,” You cried into JJ’s shoulder. “It’s not fair!”

“I know,” JJ mumbled against your hair and pulled you in tighter. “I know. I’m sorry.” He felt like the worst boyfriend ever. He knew this day would come and he took advantage of you avoiding your own grief by drowning in his own. He should have been taking care of you, making you open up about your brother so that it didn’t all hit you at once like it did now. 

“I have no one.”

“No,” JJ shook his head. “That’s not true. You have me. Pope and Kie, we’re all going to be here for you. And screw your mom. You don’t need her anyway.”

For a split second, you forgot about your mom and how she wanted to take you back to Georgia. But you knew she wasn’t your real family. Not anymore. You were right when you said you had all the family you needed. The Heywards, Pope, Kie, JJ. You weren’t alone. You still had them.

“I’m sorry,” JJ said again. “I should have - I should have done something. I should have been there for you -”

“It’s okay,” You placed your hand delicately under his jaw to make him look at you. “You’re here now and that’s all that matters.”

“I love you.” Your heart swelled, forgetting the way those three words made you feel. Safe, loved, comforted. “And if John B’s out there, he’s going to come back.” JJ remembered the promise John B made him swear by before he left with the Phantom. How he made JJ promise to protect you no matter what. Even if you were to go through a nasty break up. He was supposed to be there for you. “There’s still hope.”

“Hope,” You repeated, tasting the word on your tongue. You still had hope.

[wannabemobwife]

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas- Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Dressed to the Nines

Dad!Mob!Tom Holland x Mom!Mob!Reader Fanfic

-Pairings: mob! Tom Holland x reader

-Warnings: Language

-Words: 3.9K

Background Info- Tom Holland is boss of his mafia and Y/N Holland, his wife, is former mafia boss turned stay at home mom but still joined Tom on his business trips and meetings. They started dating at 19 and were married at the young age of 21, realizing they only needed each other. They have two kids together, both ages 16, Parker and Rosie Holland.

*Realistically to have two teenagers, Tom and Y/N are both in their mid/late thirties but they look like they are in their mid twenties/late twenties alright. What can I say, they have really good genes. I can guarantee that Tom will still definitely look as gorgeous as he does know in his 30’s.

Author note: I enjoy writing drama, so it’s hard to have constant fluff, mostly angst (I hope, at least what I consider angst). The more times where a character almost dies but doesn’t the better to me. This is my first fanfic, I wrote this story based on being married with kids because that is the part of my life I’m most looking forward to. Heads up but there is tons of dialogue, I find that the most fun to write.

Also I enjoy PDA and a personal goal of mine is to be married for 20 years and still want to jump my husband’s bones so there are a bunch of little hints like that through the fanfic. Sorry if your name is any of the characters, feel free to change them in your mind. I know it’s stupid of me to say that but whatever.

Chapter 1: Dressed to the Nines

Words: 3.9K

You and Tom were a power couple. The Hollands, the ones with the most power and the most dangerous. A king and queen to their empire. Lately you had been tackling married life together and had been raising two kids. A boy named Parker and a girl named Rosie both the same age. But nothing could prepare you for what every parent dreads, their teenage years. All the hormones, mood swings and relationship drama that comes with it.

When both the twins turned 16 it was big turning point in your family. Rights of passage as Tom would say. You and Tom threw a massive gala to celebrate their 16 years of being alive. Tom as the leader of his own mob, money was no object and you coming from the family you did and being a former mafia boss, you both had truly opulent wealth. It was the night of their kids’ sixteenth birthday and everyone was invited from family, friends, business associates and even enemies. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer they would say. Tom and tried to keep as much as possible from your kids, trying to give them a normal childhood. Failing over and over again at that. Some nights Tom would come home bloody from beating up someone who crossed him. Or there would always been strange, bulky, built men surrounding your mansion for protection. It was hard to explain everything to the kids, but it was something they just had to do for family.

The party was about to begin, 7:00 on the dot, and the house was decorated to fit a very elegant yet youthful look. Caterers dressed in white carrying bountiful trays of appetizers. Tom and you adored the luxury of their life, even though they knew if they didn’t have all the materials they did they would be even happier. Their family is what mattered most to them. You were dressed to the nines, in a lace gold gown, with sparkly stilettos on. Her Y/H/C hair gracefully laying one her back, without a strand out of the place. And her Y/E/C eyes were beaming, if looks could kill they would. Tom couldn’t help but admire you.

“You know, it’s rude to gawk,” you said and Tom chuckled.

“I’m sorry but you’re just too beautiful not to,” he responded and placing his hands on your hips.

Rolling your eyes and smirking you said “tonight’s the night.”

“I know, should we do it now?” he questioned as his half smile turned into a frown.

“No, let him have this one more night. Without any obligation,” you had been dreading this night for years.

“Alright, darling,” he said as he kissed softly, he just couldn’t contain himself he

found his other half. The person that makes him want to be a better man. His soulmate.

Like any family there are skeletons in their closets but, the Hollands were a whole another story. Tonight was the night, one they had been dreading for 16 years, to be exact. You and Tom’s son, Parker would be tasked with the most difficult decision of his life. One that will rewrite his story. Tom wishes he would just turn it down and do what he didn’t have the balls to do when he was his age.

The day Tom’s dad brought him into the office, he knew his life would never be the same. Dom, his father and former boss of the Holland empire, made it very clear that if he turned him down, he could forget about being in this family. Tom just knows he won’t give the same ultimatum. Parker being the oldest and only son of Tom and Y/N Holland is the future of their family empire. Parker was quite popular, a playboy actually and very dashing. Wearing a black suit with a black tie and a white shirt he look just like his dad with his brown hair slicked back. Being one of the guests of honor tonight he had to look the part. Slowly made his way to the bar before his mother could find him. Desperately needing some liquid courage, he quickly poured himself a shot of vodka and downed it even faster. However nothing gets past, you, Y/N Holland.

“Parker Jackson Holland!” you fumed, catching her 16 year old son drinking.

“Hey, what’s with the middle naming me, it’s my birthday,” he responded a little startled.

“You should not be drinking, ever. You got two years, mister,” you explained.

“Alright, mum,” Parker sounded annoyed.

“Where’s your sister by the way, party is supposed to start in 10 mins,” you said as she noticed all the guest starting to arrive. A line of people already waiting at the door but everyone knew the Hollands preferred people to arrive fashionably late.

“I don’t know. Having a fit probably. Last I heard was screaming coming from her closet.”

“I’ll go check on her. Your father and I need you sober later. Understood?” You exclaimed.

“Yes, mum.” Parker was a good boy on paper but, enjoyed breaking the rules.

Right as you turned away, Parker then started to pour another shot.

“Don’t even think about it,” you said still walking forward. Parker chuckled and set the shot down.

You went to go check on her daughter. You knocked on the door when she heard something shatter. Rosie may seem timid but she definitely inherited Tom’s anger issues.

“Honey? Is everything alright?” You questioned, startled by the outburst.

“Yeah, mum. I’m sorry,” Rosie muttered seeming frustrated.

“It’s ok, oh honey!” You exclaimed, noticing the tears on her daughter face

“I know, this is stupid,” Rosie whispered trying to hide her tear stained face.

“No, no it isn’t. What’s wrong?” you said, genuinely concerned for her daughter’s well-being.

“I don’t know everything, this dress, my hair, my makeup,” she exclaimed frantically.

“Baby, you look beautiful.”

“Pretty enough that someone would want to dance with me?” Rosie whispered. You were caught off guard that your daughter could ever have thoughts like that.

“Yes of course, you are always gorgeous.” You hated seeing your baby girl beat herself up based on her looks.

“Thanks mom, I have a question?” You just nodded in response.

How did you get dad to fall in love with you?” Rosie asked inquisitively.

“Um, I guess was just myself. I didn’t put on a facade and I was very honest and transparent with him,” you answered a little taken back from the question.

“You were yourself? I find that hard to believe. From stories I’ve heard you seemed to be bold, brave and beguiling” said Rosie with a hint of sarcasm.

“Am I not those things now?” You asked, cheekily.

“No you are, just in a different way.”

“Honey, whoever you are trying impress, will love for who you are, ok?” You couldn’t stand seeing her daughter like this.

“Alright. Can you help me with my makeup?” Rosie asked because her previous makeup had been ruined by her miniature breakdown

“Yes, of course.”

Back at the party Tom was making his way around saying hello to almost everyone. He desperately needed to find his son. Tom’s and Parker’s relationship was interesting to say the least. As babies and toddlers Tom was there. He loved his kids so much but as they grew older they only noticed the times he wasn’t there. Only the missed recitals and football games, never all times that had dinner as a family and he tucked them in to bed at night. Parker is closer to his mother and his twin sister. Never really having that man to man talk with his dad yet. The time when fathers stop seeing their sons as boys and look at them as men. Tom approached Parker sitting there with his a drink in his hand, he hoped was a watered down Pepsi.

“Hey Parker, did your mom talk to you already?” Tom asked, not trying to raise too many questions.

“No, she might have mentioned something,” Parker responded.

“Ok, well after cake meet me in my office.” Parker nodded in response and noticed how he tensed a little at the conversation.

Their chat quickly ended when Harrison and his 16 year old son Henry came to wish happy birthday. Harrison is Tom’s right hand man, his consigliere and his best friend. He was more than that, Harrison was family. Harrison’s son, Henry was best friends with Parker and Rosie, ever since birth.

“Hey mate,” Tom said to his best friend Harrison.

“Hey, just came to wish this guy “happy birthday”” he said patting Parker’s shoulder.

“Happy birthday, dude” Henry said to Parker and he returned with subtle “thank you’s.” Parker slightly nodded to his dad to see if he could leave the conversation and Tom let him know it was ok.

“Come on, let’s go,” Parker exclaimed making his way to den where his other friends were.

Harrison was the first to speak up, “Have you told him yet?”

“No, Y/N and I are going to do it tonight” Tom uttered with a low toned voice.

“Geez, do you need me there?” Harrison asked, afraid Tom might say yes. Harrison was there when Tom went through the same process with his dad. Tom’s anger issues didn’t help the outcome.

“I think I’m alright, just family. Not that I don’t consider you family but I don’t even know if Rosie should be there.” Tom justified.

“It’s alright mate, I get it.”

They were both enjoying their night, making their rounds, Tom and Harrison went to get drinks, not beer this time but a scotch on the rocks as this was a classy night. Everything was dandy up until one of Tom’s men, William, came up to him informing Tom of a problem.

“Sir we have a problem,” William whispered to Tom, Tom nodded for them to follow them to his office.

“William, what now? Can’t you see I’m enjoying the party?” Tom exclaimed, closing the doors to his office.

“Sir, Daniel, was found dead at his post outside, shot by a tranquilizer gun, with a note taped to his chest, it’s for you.” William announced and handed the paper to the most important and dangerous man of the mob, his boss.

“What the fuck?” A long silence stayed in the air while Tom processed the news. Awkwardness had filled the entire room as they all awaited Tom’s response.

“For fucks sake, you need at least 3 guards posted outside. NOW!” He screamed as his anger continued to rise as read the note.

“Yes, Sir.” William said promptly.

“God forbid anything else happen tonight, but my wife and kids are the first ones to be escorted to safe house. Understood?” Tom explained as he only was only thinking about his family in that moment.

“Yes, Sir.” William said and quickly ran out before he could get the brunt of Tom’s upcoming outburst. Right on cue, Tom threw a glass ashtray at the wall, it shattering into shards.

“Calm down mate, what did the note even say.” Harrison asked with a worrisome look on his face. Tom showed Harrison the joy and his smile faded immediately. Tom for the first time, in a while, felt fear because he knew he had everything to lose.

Not wanting to deal with the life long headache that is his life. He looked for solace in, you, his wife as he spotted her over by the fireplace and made his way over to you.

“Have told you look stunning tonight?” He said instantly falling in love with you over again.

“Several times actually,” you said.

“Well I can’t help what you do to me, gorgeous.” He said placing a kiss to your temple.

“Hey, have you had the talk with him yet?” You said pointing a finger at your son getting very intimate with some girl.

The girl was Charlotte Owens. Parker and her had been together for almost a year, but you and Tom hadn’t met her formally yet. Your son was very tight-lipped the it came to his private life. She was tall, fair and had platinum blonde hair along with piercing blue eyes. Rosie didn’t seem to like her very much, constantly annoyed by her popularity status and reputation, used to be known for being with a new guy every couple weeks and don’t put it past Rosie to not give her the benefit of the doubt.

“No, remember we’re going to do it tonight. Is something wrong?” He said with concern, worried why you would forget something so important.

“No, not that talk, silly, “The talk”,” you responded. His lips formed an “o” shaped as he realized he would have to teach his son about how to be safe during sex.

“Oh, no. I’ve been avoiding it for as long as possible.”

“Why baby, you’re so good at it. You could give him a few a pointers.” You said, winking at him.

“Wow, love, you surprise me everyday. Speaking of beautiful girls, where’s Rosie. I’ve haven’t seen her all night,” Tom quickly trying to change the subject as they were at a party.

“I saw her a few minutes ago,” you said as a puzzled look grew on her face.

“Come on, let’s go find her and maybe you and I can sneak off for awhile.” He said cheekily.

“Tommy,” you whispered but eventually agreed. Slowly making your way out of the main ballroom to the secret garden next to his office.

Walking very slyly, you both made your way to secret spot near Tom’s office. Where ivy had grown throughout the brick and purple and yellow tulips lined the fence along with giant trees. There was a little wishing fountain that Tom had installed when you moved in, this was their secret spot. One where they could forget about all the violence and responsibility that tainted their lives.

Their intimate moment was ruined when Rosie walked by with some random guy named Connor, not the person she’d hope to bring there. All throughout the night Rosie seemed to be jealous of the attention her crush was getting at the party as he didn’t pay attention to her. Thus, she went find a distraction of her own.

“Oh hey, shh, look two people getting it on over there,” he whispered to her as she dragged him outside.

“Please don’t be my brother.” She murmured but felt like she wanted to throw up when she saw who it was.

“Mom, dad?” Rosie screamed.

“Oh shit, we’ve been busted,” Tom muttered against your neck.

“Hey honey,” You said while Rosie was completely mortified. Rosie’s potential hookup stood there mouth wide open.

“That’s your mum, god, she’s a babe.” Connor said.

“Connor, not helping.” Rosie exclaimed sternly as she pinched his side.

Tom spoke up, “Why don’t you guys go back and enjoy the rest of the party.”

Rosie just nodded and left as fast as humanly possible. She never wants to be that embarrassed again.

“Oh my god, we were gonna get it later.” You said.

“I know, we really screwed up this time. But have you had “the talk” with her yet,” Tom asked.

“Nope, we should both really get on that. What would I’ve happened if they hadn’t caught us?” You asked jokingly.

“I don’t want to think about that Y/N! She’s our daughter.” Tom exclaimed.

“Neither do I.”

“Enough of this, where were we?” Tom interjected immediately changing the subject.

“Well you lips were on my neck and you hand was on my waist, but I think the moment has passed and we should get back to the party,” you said rather seductively.

“Fine, I know you’re right. But fuck, I just want to make out with my wife,” Tom muttered frustratingly.

“Well you can later... in bed.” Winking as you chuckled.

“Man, that kid was right, you are a babe.”he said as he slapped your ass as you walked in front of him chuckling.

“Is it time for cake?” Harrison asks as he came up to Tom and you.

“I think it is.” Tom said and you nodded. Walking towards Rosie, who was desperately trying to erase her self from existence because of the embarrassment she’d experienced a minute ago.

“Hi, honey. Can you please go find your brother? We are going to cut the cake.” You said trying not to accidentally bring up the elephant in the room.

“Alright, fine,” Rosie muttered still a little peeved finding you and Tom like that. Rosie searched high and low for Parker.

Needing some assistance she asked Henry. “Hey, have you seen my brother?”

“Last I saw he was taking Charlotte to the green house” Henry responded.

“Alright, come on, let’s go find them” Rosie said rolling her eyes. Her hand slipped into Henry’s as she led the way. Making their way through the vast yet gorgeous yard. Rosie and Henry found Parker and Charlottes lips entangled together and bodies in a compromising position in the green house

“For fucks sake, how many people am I going to find sucking face at this party.” Rosie yelled, startling Charlotte and Parker.

“What the fuck do you want, Rosie? Can’t you see I’m busy.” Parker quipped annoyingly.

“Mom and dad want to cut the cake” Rosie responded.

“Ugh fine. Give us 10 mins” knowing he will be finished in that time.

“No, you can fuck your bimbo of a girlfriend later.” Rosie said, receiving a grimace from Charlotte.

“Don’t you fucking talk about her like that! Fuck off!” Parker yelled as Henry and Rosie left. Both of the kids had inherited Tom’s angry side.

“Well, you can explain to mom and dad you were late because you were balls deep in in your whore,” Rosie said walking away.

The moments leading up to the end of Parker’s innocence were fleeting. In more ways than one. He wasn’t a virgin even before that evening but, Parker could imagine the task he was supposed to accomplish. The 3 tier chocolate raspberry ganache cake had been cut and distributed to the guests. Happy birthday had been sung to Rosie and Parker. Parker tried to go off with Charlotte again, but Harrison stopped him and brought him to the Tom’s office.

“They’re in there,” Harrison whispered.

“Who?” Parker asked Harrison who was like his uncle.

“Just go,” Parker opened the door to see his mother and his dad sat behind the desk. The door shut behind him.

“Mom? Dad? What’s going on here?” Parker hesitated.

“Son, sit down,” Tom said, knowing this wasn’t going to be easy.

“We have to talk to you.” You interjected.

“Parker, as part of this family, there are certain responsibilities you have to take. It is a tradition in our family that at the age of 16, the sons are brought to light about the dealings of our family and what is expected of you,” Tom said as Parker grew wary. Not really understanding what his parents were trying to convey.

Throughout his entire life, he had his suspicions about his family. Wondering why men followed them everywhere, even on trips to the store for eggs. Why his parents went to work but have never seen their office, only heard it referred to as “the warehouse.” Why everything was always so damm secretive. Scared if he accidentally let some enormous family secret slip with his big mouth there would be repercussions. Never not scared of the harm that could come to his family.

“Your father, is the leader of a very powerful mob. I am part of it too, not just as wife but as his partner. There will be day when he will longer be in position of boss and you will take over,” you asserted playing off of Tom’s words.

“Our family is not only the owners of one of the world’s richest exporting company, we also do business with casinos and own multiple hotel chains. Sometimes our work brings us above the law, but the connections we have are what keep us alive.” Tom explained trying to preserve his son’s innocence.

“Why are you telling me all this?” Parker stuttered.

“Because it is time. Time for you to step up and take your place in this family. You’ve had 16 years of juvenile fun and now this is what has to be done.” Tom concluded.

“What if I don’t want this life. You don’t think I don’t know what happens behind closed doors here. All the times dad has come home with a black eye or blood on his knuckles. Why fuck isn’t Rosie here? She is the same age as me, WE ARE TWINS! Why am I the only one who has to do this. I don’t want to kill for sport like you and mom!” Parker screamed. He couldn’t handle this anymore. There was too much information he had to process.

“Do not raise your voice at your mother! Tom screamed.

“Dad, I had dreams and hopes. I wanted to go to college and travel. Find a nice girl and marry her. Experience the kind of love you and mom have. What you are asking me to do, flushes all that away. You are asking me to give up on my life.

So that’s it, I don’t have a choice,” Parker begged.

“Baby, you have a choice. Nothing is set in stone,” you said rubbing his arm.

“Y/N, you damm well know what will happen if he turns this down,” Tom yelled.

“Maybe this life works for you two, but I don’t want this kind of life. My answer is no. Find someone else.”

“Parker, you know I can’t do that. Take a couple days and think about it” Tom answered trying to stay calm.

“NO DAD! My answer is final, I’m not going to be your apprentice to carry on this heinous family legacy!” Parker exploded. It was too much.

“If you aren’t willing to do what is asked of you, then you can forget about being in this family!” Tom screamed. He did exactly what he said he wouldn’t, he gave his son an ultimatum. Parker couldn’t handle it anymore and left. Needing to forget about the fact he no longer had a say. He was stuck.

It was just Tom and you sitting in the study. They couldn’t understand where the conversation had gone. All their hopes for tonight went out the window along with potted plant Tom threw when Parker stormed out.

“Tom, you can’t force him. You can’t do what your father did to you to him.” You tried to say in a loving tone but it came out as stern.

“IM NOT, Y/N!!!” Tom screamed. He had fucked up. The words spoken tonight have rewritten his relationship with his son.

“Alright.” You whispered trying to calm your fuming husband down.

“I’m sorry I raised my voice, baby.” Tom’s tone immediately changed once he heard the softness of your voice. You just nodded in response

“Tommy?” You asked hoping Tom was now ok.

“Yes, love” Tom said.

“He’ll come around. I can promise you that.”

“I know, darling. That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“Then what?” a look of confusion grew on your face.

He handed you a paper, the same one that was found on Daniel’s body, saying “Eclipsing of the Hollands. Let the show begin. Better watch your back.”

It was threat. A play to eventually be made on his life or the life of his family and you all had no idea who was behind it.

Guns, Glamour, and Goodfellas Series Masterlist

[silvials]

Treat It Tenderly

In which Laurent asks Nikandros for Damen's hand in marriage.

During the first year anniversary of the alliance between Akielos and Vere, Laurent was suddenly struck with the heart-stopping realization that he wanted to ask Damen to marry him.

They had never formally spoken about marriage before because it wasn’t at the forefront of their priorities. The first few months of their reign were dedicated to appeasing the warring factions in their respective kingdoms, and the following months were spent rewriting laws, proposing new treaties, arguing with the Council and the Kyroi, and doing whatever they could to make the alliance easier to digest for the public. Marriage had always been implied by the alliance, but now they were close to reaching the final steps of unification, some were starting to argue that marriage was unnecessary.

An empire needed heirs after all, and Laurent couldn’t count the number of times when he and Damen were subtly urged to remain as allies and take wives. Rumors speculating about the nature of their relationship also increased in frequency and unpleasantness, and on top of all that, they also started receiving more unwanted advances from people who believed their relationship was loveless.

Laurent had never been the type to care how others perceived him, but lately he had grown tired of having to constantly defend his relationship with Damen. He wanted the world to know that he and Damen belonged to each other, and if the golden cuffs on their wrists didn’t make it clear enough, then he was more than willing to take the next step. All he had to do was ask Damen.

It suddenly seemed like a daunting task, especially since he wanted to do it properly. Akielos and Vere did not differ much in terms of marriage customs, which meant that he had to ask for the permission of Damen’s family members. Since Damen no longer had parents or a brother, the closet person he had to a family was Nikandros.

This was going to be an interesting day.

/

Nikandros couldn’t remember the last time he had been this stressed.

Since he was one of the earliest supporters of the alliance and also the former Kyros of Delpha, the task of organizing the anniversary banquet fell to him. It would have been an honor, if there weren’t things going wrong every damn minute, so he was more than a little annoyed when Laurent summoned him halfway through the preparations.

“You asked for me, Your Majesty?” Nikandros said as he entered the royal solar and was met with a peculiar sight. Laurent was the only person in the room, but he wasn’t seated at his desk like usual. Instead, he was curled up on one of the reclining couches in front of the fire, with a small table next to him that housed two glasses of wine. This was the most comfortable that Nikandros had ever seen him. It made him wonder if he was hallucinating.

“Yes, I wanted to ask you something,” Laurent answered and gestured towards the empty seat in front of him. Nikandros couldn’t understand what kind of question would require him to take a seat, but he grudgingly sat down opposite of Laurent anyway.

Laurent handed him a glass of wine, and he downed it without a second thought. If he was going to have some kind of heart-to-heart talk with Laurent, he might as well be drunk.

“I have been thinking about the alliance lately,” Laurent began. He looked uncharacteristically nervous, which made Nikandros lean forward in his seat. “It’s going a lot better than I had expected, and it looks like we might be able to achieve unification soon. Perhaps it might also be time for us to take the next step in cementing the alliance.”

Laurent trailed off all of a sudden, and Nikandros nodded absently as he waited for him to continue.

“I intend to marry Damen,” Laurent said, watching carefully for his reaction.

Nikandros nodded again. It didn’t exactly come as a shock since he knew it was going to happen sooner or later. He was just surprised that it took them this long. “That would be the best move right now,” he said. “It will eliminate most of doubts about the alliance and stop other royal families from offering you any more marriage proposals.”

“I know, but do you…approve?”

Nikandros raised a brow at him. “Do you need my approval?”

Laurent stared blankly at him for a moment, as if it physically pained him to say the next words. “In Akielos, isn’t it also a custom to ask your intended spouse’s family for their hand in marriage? You are the only family Damen has left, so I’m asking you now if you approve.”

Oh. Oh. Now this was a surprise. If he had been asked this question exactly a year ago, he would have definitely said no. He had hated Laurent the moment he saw the scars on Damen’s back, but then he had seen Laurent lay down his own life for Damen, had seen him stubbornly stay by Damen’s bedside as he recovered from his wound, had seen the way he looked at Damen when he thought no one was watching. He had also seen Laurent mourn for his brother. He would never tell this to anyone, but there had been a time when he was unable to sleep during his visit to Arles, so he wandered the halls in the early hours of dawn and found Laurent crying in front of Auguste’s statue. He understood then how painful and genuine Laurent’s love for Damen must be.

Nikandros could never imagine denying Laurent of his approval. As much as he hated to admit it, he had grown rather fond of him despite how prickly he was, but a part of him was tempted to say no just to get a rise out of him.

Except Laurent was starting to look more nervous at every passing minute, so Nikandros relented and gave him a straight answer. “Of course I approve.”

“Do you approve because of my excellent character or because I am your king?”

“Both,” Nikandros told him. “Although the first one is highly debatable.” He wouldn’t normally speak so freely with Laurent, but the combination of stress and inebriation tended to loosen a person’s tongue.

Laurent didn’t show any outward reaction, but Nikandros could tell he was slightly more relaxed than before. “Is it so difficult to admit that I’m a delight?” Laurent asked, and then after a moment of silence, he added. “Do you think he’ll say yes?”

Nikandros felt his own eyebrows nearly climb up to his hairline. This day was indeed full of surprises. “Definitely,” he said. “Do you have particular reasons for your doubts?”

“No, it’s just…” Laurent absently traced the golden cuff on his wrist. “It’s been quite a while since the alliance was finalized, and Damen hasn’t mentioned anything about marriage yet.”

“Damen has never been one to plan things ahead,” Nikandros assured him. “He probably expects to marry you eventually but forgot that he never asked in the first place. Besides, he’s so utterly smitten with you, it’s actually disgusting.”

Not even the low light could hide the blush that crept across Laurent’s face. “Thank you for sharing your thoughts on the matter, Kyros” he said and stubbornly refused to meet Nikandros’ eyes. “You may go now.”

Nikandros resisted the urge to snicker on his way out the door.

/

Nikandros wasn’t expecting some kind of grand announcement at the banquet since both Damen and Laurent were intensely private about the matters of their relationship. He still kept an eye on them throughout the night, and as the banquet reached its peak and all the dignitaries were properly drunk, he saw Laurent lead Damen out to the gardens.

It took a while for them to return, but when they entered the room again, Damen was grinning like the besotted fool, and even Laurent was smiling openly in public for the first time. Their hands were linked in a rare display of affection, although it wasn’t so rare in Nikandros’ case because being the king’s advisor also meant that he was the unfortunate witness of one too many intimate moments. Damen didn’t seem to notice anyone around him, too caught up in his own happiness, but Laurent met Nikandros’ eyes across the room and offered him a smile in thanks.

Nikandros tipped his goblet in their direction and waited for them to disappear around the corner before taking a long draught. He always knew Damen would marry a blond.

[chaoticpuff17]

Endgame

ADG Tae fic

Masterlist

Warnings: reference to non con. yandere behavior

hello my darlings! A little later than intended. blame my computer problems. But here it is! the next ADG oneshot! love you all, I’m off to go rewrite everything I lost on the Yoongi chapter. I’ve been avoiding it.--- Chaotic puff. 

Taehyung watched the screen a vicious smirk playing across his lips as he watched her run through the alleyway. His poor little bird, always running. She had to know by now that she couldn’t escape him. How many years had they been playing this game? She had to know by now that she couldn’t win, but it was cute to see her try.

She hated him. That was okay though. She just needed a little push in the right direction. He was tired of watching from a distance. He was tired of watching her and only seeing her face to face a few times a year. They’d been playing their game for so long now, she had to be tired as well. His sweet Aerie was an excellent opponent, but she had to know that it would all come to an end eventually.

He could remember the first time he had seen her. They’d been so young then. They’d both been on the train. Taehyung had been exhausted after a night of hacking, and she had been immersed in something on her own computer. Her glasses had slipped down her nose in the most enchanting way. Her hair was piled haphazardly on top of her head with strands falling down all around her face, though she didn’t seem to notice or care, and he couldn’t help but wonder what kept her so immersed. He’d pulled out his own computer and set to work finding her among the other people doing work on the train.

He’d found her easily enough, and the cause of the little furrow between her brow became evident enough. It was a paper for school, a literary analysis for an English literature class. Her face was all scrunched up as she looked over The Picture of Dorian Gray. She was intensely focused on it, and a little digging into her files and schedule had told him that the paper was due in a few days. He found her concentration, the way she poured over each line, endearing. He loved the way she chewed on her inner cheek as she thought over paragraph. She was just adorable.

A little digging into her computer had given Taehyung access to her life. He knew exactly how to go about finding her. He knew what school she went to, her major, where she lived, and he pursued her with enthusiasm. The only hitch in his pursuit was her continued rejection, something Taehyung had not anticipated. Why would he have? No one had ever rejected him before. She couldn’t have done better. Even if she tried, Taehyung wouldn’t have allowed it. She was his from the first moment he saw her on that train.

Aerie may have looked sweet, but she was a snappish creature by nature. She rejected every bouquet, every invitation to dinner. She’d rejected his affection at every turn, rejected his every effort, until she’d taken matters into her own hands and begun their little game. He’d gone to offer her the world, only to find her gone. Her apartment was empty. A quick search revealed that she had even dropped out of school. She’d simply vanished.

Taehyung’s first instinct had been panic and rage. How could she leave him like that? How could she reject him? And then there came a new feeling. Excitement. If she wanted a chase, he would give her one. It had been no trouble at all for him to track her down. She’d changed cities and was doing her best to keep a low profile, but she had no idea who she was dealing with. The look of shock on her face when he’d appeared on her doorstep had been so satisfying, so adorable. The frying pan she’d taken to the side of his head, was less adorable.

Taehyung had become smarter after that. His little bird was so prone to flight that he had to be more careful in his approach or risk another frying pan to the head something he had no intention of repeating. She’d been easy enough to find again though. She was never really out of his reach not with all the resources he had at his fingertips. He’d cornered her just a few hours later in a bus station a few towns over, succeeding in knocking her out and taking her to a hotel to wait for her to wake up again. He wanted her calm when he made his offer again, a life by his side.

She had not been calm though. She had fought him tooth and nail to get out of that room and had laughed in his face when he’d made her the offer, and it was something he couldn’t understand. How could she refuse him? He was handsome. He was young. He was wealthy, and he had chosen her. Out of every woman that had thrown themselves at his feet, he had chosen her. None of that seemed to matter though. She looked at him as though he had a second head, as if he was the most vile being on the planet.

It had been the beginning of a longstanding game between them. He would chase, and she would run. Sometimes he would let months elapse before he took her again. He loved the look of shock and horror on her face when he showed up again. It was something he would never get tired of.

The next time he decided to take her, he brought her to what the boys had dubbed as his play house. The house was situated in the middle of nowhere. Even if she was able to make it out of the house, there was nowhere she could go. He had designed it especially for her after all.

The area surrounding the house was made up of a series of mazes designed to keep her in, and most paths led back to the house, back to him.

The games were fun, but Taehyung was craving more now. Everyone was settling down. Namjoon had Y/N even if she had engaged him in a chase of their own. Hoseok had Iyla. Jin had taken his patient as his own, and Yoongi had sired a kid with one of Jimin’s girls. It was time to settle down himself, but that required nailing down his little bird.

He’d indulged her long enough. He’d given her plenty of chances to end this on her own, plenty of chances to surrender, to come to him of her own will. He let her believe that she’d managed to escape him, but she was never truly out of his grasp. He always knew where she was, always. A few sneakily placed tracking devices on her body ensured that.

She was a smart little devil. He’d give her that. His first few attempts at trackers had been foiled by her throwing out her phone each time she came in contact with him. He had quickly learned that he couldn’t place trackers in any of her devices. So when he’d switched to placing chips on her person, he’d errored on the side of caution and placed several in assorted spots. She’d never be able to get rid of them all. Of that, he was confidant. She was smart, but not smart enough to find all five trackers, and they ensured that Taehyung had no problem tracking her down for the endgame.

Taehyung stood up from his chair with a leisurely stretch. It was time to fetch his little bird.

Aerie woke up in a house she was horribly horribly familiar with. She’d been there more times than she’d like to admit over the years. She knew that within its walls lurked the psycho that had been nipping at her heels for years. Every time he tracked her down, he brought her to this horrible place. The house was like its own circle of hell with Taehyung ruling over it. Each time she was there, there was some new horror awaiting her. There had always been a way out, but it came at the price of playing his twisted games. She’d learned early on that Taehyung never did anything out of the goodness of his heart. Nothing was free, and she’d given up more than she’d ever wanted to admit over the years. He’d slowly taken everything from her.

In the beginning, he’d only been a stalker, the creep she kept rejection. She’d thought that if she moved away, if she laid low for a while, he’d forget about her and find a new obsession, and she would be free to enroll in a new school and live her life free of him. That hadn’t been the case though. He’d followed her wherever she went.

She knew he was toying with her. She knew he was letting her escape. He’d made that clear, made it clear that she had no power in their relationship. As much as she hated to use that word to describe them, it was the best fit. Twisted and horrid as it was, it was still a relationship, and Taehyung had made his affection for her more than evident even if she had done the same with her hatred for him. That never seemed to bother him too much though. He wasn’t delusional. She knew that he understood her hatred of him, he simply didn’t care. He seemed to think that time would reverse her contempt. It had not, and as much as she hated to admit it, this was not the first time she had woken up in the house tied down and practically naked.

Her hands were bound by leather cuffs to a bed that looked more like a bird’s cage than it did a bed. It was a glaring reminder of his degrading little nickname for her, his little bird. She hated that nickname as much as she hated him. The bed didn’t just look like a cage, it functioned like one as well. If Taehyung wished he could lock her behind the elaborate bars to rot. It was degrading, but so were most of the things he did to her. This time even her legs were restrained held apart by a spreader. It was only the beginning of her humiliation. Taehyung hadn’t even made his appearance yet.

She took a moment to shake off the last vestiges of grogginess caused by whatever drug Taehyung had used to knock her out his time. His more violent methods didn’t leave her with a lingering feeling of nausea, but they did cause more bumps and bruises. It was hard to say which one was worse, but she supposed that it didn’t really matter. It wasn’t as if Taehyung gave her a choice in how he captured her.

Once she didn’t feel like her head was spinning and her stomach wasn’t about to heave its contents all over the red bedding, Aerie took a look around to see where her tormentor was. She couldn’t see him through the intricate bars of the bed, but that didn’t mean much. He could be lurking somewhere just out of sight. What she did notice was the set of skimpy lingerie that clung to her body. She should have been used to it by now, but seeing his selections still made her skin crawl. There was no such thing as modesty when it came to Taehyung.

This particular set was black, lacy, and strappy. It didn’t cover much though. Much to her annoyance it was lacking in two distinct areas. There was no material where the cups of the bra should have been, there was nothing. Strips of lace curved up around the top of her breasts, but the majority of her chest was left exposed to the room. Her panties were lacking as well in the fact that the lace was missing one vital component, the crotch. In its place were two silky straps that curved down between her thighs and back up around her ass leaving everything but the area right above her center exposed. His lingerie choices were typically risqué, but they usually covered a bit more.

As much as she hated the lace wrapped around her body, what was worse was the collar fixed around her throat. This was an item she was intimately familiar with. The collar was made of a thick leather that was wrapped in a sumptuous black lace. The front of the collar was decorated by a single silver ring that Taehyung took full advantage of in his escapades. As his “little bird”, Aerie was nothing more than a pet to him, and the collar staked his claim in a blatantly obvious way.

She was ashamed to say that Taehyung had been her first, though it hadn’t been her choice. She could still remember that horrible day vividly. It had been a little over two years ago. She’d been particularly resistant to him that night, sick of him and his games. Her sharp tongue had been her undoing. She’d pushed Taehyung too far, refused him one too many times. Granted it was bound to happen eventually, but that didn’t make the result any less traumatizing.

Aerie woke up groggy doing her best to shake off the remnants of a drug induced sleep. It was like swimming through a fog. When she finally shook it off, she wished that she hadn’t. Her hands were bound above her head by leather cuffs, and she was dressed in a set of skimpy lace lingerie that certainly wasn’t hers. She couldn’t recognize the room, but she did recognize the man pacing around the room like a caged animal even if she wished that she didn’t.

Everything came rushing back at the sight of him.

Aerie hadn’t been on a date in a long time. Her stalker had put a damper on love life. Moving around from place to place in an effort to avoid him didn’t leave much time for dating, but she was excited. She’d even taken the time to do her makeup with what little skill she had and curl her hair all in preparation of her date with Minho. She’d met him at the store she’d been working at to make ends meet while she tried to hide from the man who had been making her life a living hell. He was sweet, and she enjoyed talking with him. One date couldn’t hurt especially not with someone has lovely has Minho.

The grin that had stretched across her face had been there all day that is until she saw the man of her nightmares stalking into the restaurant practically radiating fury. She stared at him like a deer in the head lights as he paused by the first few tables. The world stopped for a moment only to start again with the sound of bullets.

Taehyung released a volley of shots into the air sending the entire restaurant into a panic, a cacophony of screams filling the air.

“Everybody out!” He growled eyes fixated on where she sat across from Minho, and the patrons scrambled to obey him.

Minho reached across the table grabbing her hand as he stood up to flee the restaurant with the rest of the customers.

“Not you.” Taehyung growled stalking towards them pulling up a seat and taking a seat beside Aerie.

“We don’t want any trouble.” Miho stuttered eyes wide and frightened eyes his gaze flitted between Taehyung and the door.

“Don’t want any trouble?” Taehyung laughed arching one perfectly manicured brow as he draped an arm across Aerie’s shoulders keeping her in place. “You should have thought of that before you took out my girl. Isn’t that right, little bird?” He purred leaning in and brushing his nose over her neck in a motion that was far too intimate for what the two of them shared.

“Look man, I didn’t know she was taken!” Minho gulped raising his hands in a motion of surrender.

“Didn’t know?” Taehyung laughed moving his hand so that it was curled around the back of her neck one finger twirling a strand of her curled hair. “That makes it all better then.”

Without any warning, Taehyung drew his gun again and fired three shots directly into the other man’s head as Aerie screamed in horror beside him. His hand fisted cruelly in her hair dragging her back against her seat stopping her from running as she so wanted to do.

“Aerie, Aerie, Aerie.” He cooed his grin vicious as he gazed down at her. “You’ve been a very bad girl, little bird.”

There was a sharp prick, and then everything went dark.

That brought her back to the present where Taehyung had only just noticed that her eyes were open.

“You’re awake.” He grinned coming to take a seat on the edge of the bed. “I thought that I’d given you too much of the sedative for a minute there. How are you feeling, little bird?” He cooed moving up the bed so that he was sitting next to her hips, trailing a finger across her clavicle.

“Fuck off.” She growled trying to squirm away from him without much luck as the cuffs dug into her wrists keeping her in place.

“None of that, little bird.” He growled pressing down to keep her from wiggling away. “If you wanted my attention, you could have said something. I would have been by your side in a heartbeat.”

“Fuck off.” She repeated kicking wildly in the hope of landing a hit. She was almost successful, landing a hit to his upper thigh, but it was just shy of where she need it to land, and only served to piss him off.

Taehyung was quick to straddle her hips keeping her pinned down as he wrapped a long fingered hand around her throat.

“If you’re going to act like a whore, little bird, I’ll have to treat you like a whore.” He growled grinding his hips against hers.

“Get off!” She shrieked trying to buck him off without much success.

“If you’re going to be a whore,” He snarled moving down the bed and binding her legs so that they were spread apart. “You should at least by my whore, don’t you think?”

“Get off of me!” She shrieked again tears brimming in her eyes as the panic began to settle in.

“Such a shrill voice.” He hissed moving off the bed to grab something. He returned much to quickly. “If you can’t be sweet for me, you should remain silent.”

There wasn’t anything she could do as he wrenched her jaw open shoving a ball gag between her teeth and fastening it behind her head with practiced ease. “There.” He purred moving back so that he was settled between her spread legs. “Much better.”

She thrashed against her bindings as the monster tore off the skimpy underwear. Tears burned her eyes as he shoved a finger into her cunt. She wasn’t ready for the intrusion, but Taehyung didn’t seem to care as he pushed forward. He only paused as he was met with a resistance he hadn’t expected.

He pulled back a slow smile spreading across his features. “Little bird.” He cooed gently brushing the tears from her eyes. “Such a good girl, saving herself for daddy.” He pressed kisses down against her throat trailing them down towards the lace that covered her breasts before he savagely tore that from her body just as he had the panties.

“Don’t worry, baby. Daddy can be gentle.” He promised pressing a kiss to her nipple that had pebbled from the cool air. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to punish you for letting that leach put his hands all over you.” She whimpered her pleas coming out as a garbled mess against the gag.

She’d always thought her first time would be, well maybe not romantic, but at least nice and with someone she chose. Having that choice ripped away while being violated by the man who had made her life a living hell had made the blow all the worse. It had taken her a long time to recover from the trauma of being raped by her stalker, and that time had been made even longer considering that every time he came back to torment her, he had no problem with repeating the process over and over again. It was horrible, but she expected it now. It was just one more thing to get over with before he put her through whatever game he had prepared for them this time around.

“Hello, little bird.” His deep voice washed over her filling her with deep seated dread. “Did you miss me?” He cooed entering the cage like bed and perching himself on the edge of the mattress as he grinned down at her.

“Fuck off, Taehyung.” She growled pulling on the restraints that kept her arms in place. She knew better than to pull of the leg spreader. If she pulled on it, it would only make her predicament worse.

“Aerie, Aerie, Aerie.” He tutted one of his long fingers slowly trailing up her bare leg. “Why must you always be so rude, little bird? Haven’t you missed me at all? I’ve missed you.”

She grinned viciously as she jerked at her arm restraints trying to lunge at him. “What do you want, you fucking psychopath? Can’t you find another girl whose life you can ruin?”

He laughed showcasing that box shaped grin that would have been endearing on anyone else. “Why would I do that when I have you?” He cooed trailing his finger up to her thigh.

“What do you want?” She growled again.

“I have a proposition for you, little bird, but why don’t we have some fun first?” He hummed slowly crawling on top of her while she glared up at him.

“Or you could just tell me.” She grumbled wishing that any of her limbs were free so that she could smack him.

“And what would be the fun in that?” He chuckled placing a kiss on the soft skin of her belly. “I’ve missed you so much, little bird. It’s been so long.” He purred trailing kisses up towards her exposed chest.

“Get off of me!” She growled bucking her hips up in an attempts to throw him off thought he motion only seemed to encourage him.

“And if I don’t want to?” He asked smirking against her skin as before nipping at her exposed nipple eliciting a yelp from her. If there was one thing that Taehyung loved about his little bird, it was how sensitive she was. Her reactions were just as adorable as that first night.

“Fuck you.” She hissed doing her best to wiggle away from him despite her restraints.

“Oh, you will.” His grin was positively devious as he dove down to attack the sliver of her neck that was left uncovered by the collar.

He loved that collar. He loved the way the lace looked against her skin and how easy the loop made it to manhandle and restrain her. He’d more than once attached the matching lace covered leather leash to that little loop. Seeing her in that collar always got him fired up. Once he brought her home he’d have an array of collars for her, but this one would always be his favorite.

“Get off!” She shrieked wishing not for the first time that she could torment him just as much as he tormented her.

“Hush, little bird.” He cooed lifting his head so he could brush his nose against hers affectionately. “Let me make you feel good.”

It was a source of never ending shame for her that Taehyung was in fact an excellent lover. He pulled her pleasure from her by force with the persistence of a dog with a bone. Even if she resisted, he would make sure that she came for him, more than once. It was a matter of pride for him that he could make his little bird writhe with pleasure beneath him despite her protests.

“Stop!” She shrieked taking the opportunity to head butt him forcing him back much to his displeasure.

He hissed placing an elegant hand against his throbbing nose as he glared down at her. She was still feisty no matter how many times he played with her. He loved it.

“That wasn’t very nice, little bird.”

“That makes two of us.” She snarled relieved that he had backed away for the moment. “What proposition did you have?” She asked hoping to distract him.

“Eager aren’t we?” He cooed sitting back so that he was settled on top of her thighs.

“Just tell me, you sick fuck.” She huffed glaring up at him.

“This is something best discussed over dinner. Though I’d love to keep you just as you are.” He purred his eyes trailing over her form.

“Then let’s have dinner.” She’d do anything to avoid his more amorous attentions even if it meant sitting down to dinner with him.

With a sigh Taehyung set to work undoing the restraints at her ankles before unclipping the chain that kept her attached to the bed, though he left the cuffs on.

“Let’s get you dressed, little bird.”

She didn’t fight him as he pulled her up from the bed or when left her standing in the middle of the room her hands still cuffed together. He knew better than to leave her completely unrestrained. This wasn’t their first rodeo. She’d be more than happy to take off down the twisting halls of the house if he gave her the chance, but it was harder to escape from him if she was still bound, and it was better to see what he wanted before she made her escape. Taehyung would eventually start a game that would lead to her eventual freedom. He liked games.

He returned moments later with a long black dress in hand.

She didn’t argue or fight when he uncuffed her handed or when he stripped her of the strap of cloth he called a bra. Even if the dress was revealing, it had to be better than the lingerie he had provided.

She was right. The dress was revealing, but so were most of the clothes that Taehyung had forced her into over the years. This dress wasn’t the worst of them. The material was soft and silky against her skin leaving her back completely left exposed to the air. The top wrapped around her neck before diving down into a deep v ending just before her belly button. Not even her legs were left covered. There was a slit up the side leaving the entirety of her left leg exposed. But overall it was still better than the lingerie. Anything was better than the lingerie.

What surprised her was that Taehyung had removed the collar. He loved that collar almost to the point that she would call it a fixation, but she supposed that it didn’t match the aesthetic of the evening gown.

She allowed him to seat her on a long ottoman as he pulled her hair back in a sleek pony tail, and gave her a pair of earrings to match. They trailed down from her lobes in a line of stones that ended just at her jaw. She was dressed far too nicely for dinner with her worst enemy, but what choice did she have? It was always best to cooperate until he made his intentions for the evening clear.

He led her through the twisting halls of the house until they came to the overly ornate dining room. She never understood why the house was so sumptuously decorated. She’d seen it during the many times she had run through the halls in many failed attempts to get away from the psychopath that made her life hell. It wasn’t as though he lived in the house. She’d figured that out pretty quickly. The house was completely unlived in. She didn’t know where he lived, but it wasn’t here.

He seated her at the table before going out to get the meal he had had prepared for them. Taehyung wasn’t much for cooking, but he found that the staff at Namjoon’s estate were more than willing to work with him, and they did a far better job of it than he could. He would have asked Jin to do it knowing that his hyung was an excellent cook, but Jin had been busy preparing for the journey to go and retrieve Namjoon’s wife. She’d finally been located in some dingy little village in Italy. More than that, she’d been found in the final stages of a pregnancy that could only have been Namjoon’s doing. His hyung was as ecstatic as he was angry to find her. He knew that Namjoon had always wanted to be a father, but it had to hurt knowing that his wife had run off with one of his enemies and was peacefully playing house with them. It didn’t matter though. Namjoon would have her and the baby home in no time just like Taehyung would have Aerie home where she belonged at long last.

They both remained silent for the beginning of the meal as they both cut into the steaks that Namjoon’s chef had prepared, but eventually, she couldn’t take the anticipation anymore, though she hated being the first one to crack.

“Why am I here?” She asked setting aside her cutlery as she stared him down from across the table.

“Can’t I just miss you?” He teased setting aside his own utensils. He chuckled seeing the completely unamused expression on her face. “No. You wouldn’t believe that would you? I have a proposition for you.”

“So you’ve said.” She grumbled crossing her arms under her breasts.

“I’ve enjoyed our games, baby. I really have, but I’ve grown tired of them.” He drawled leaning back dramatically with a long suffering sigh. “I want to put an end to them.”

He could see her brighten up at that staring at him with interest. “You’re going to let me go?”

He laughed at that finding her suggestion amusing. “Of course not. Why would I do that?”

“Then what do you mean?”

“I want to play one last game. If you win, I’ll let you go, for good.”

“And if I lose?” She asked her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“You come with me willingly. You surrender, be mine.” As she stiffened her mouth set in a thin line of dread, Taehyung couldn’t help but smile. “No more running. No more games. As simple as that.”

“And why would I agree to that?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “You don’t really have a choice. I could always take you by force.”  

“Like you haven’t before?” She scoffed her gaze taking on a hard, bitter edge.

“One last game.” He assured her even though he didn’t have any intention of playing fair. She didn’t need to know that though.

She eyed him weighing her options. On the one hand, he could be lying, but on the slim chance that he was telling the truth, she would be free of him. She’d never have to worry about him lurking in the shadows at every moment. She couldn’t remember the last time that she had been free of him. It would be like the sun coming out of months of rain, but there was a much greater chance that Taehyung was lying. It could just be another twisted part of his games, one designed to crush her hopes.  But on the off chance that he was actually telling the truth, that the offer was genuine, she had to take it.

“Fine.” She agreed reluctantly. “What kind of game do you have in mind?” She asked even as she began to wonder if this was the right move after all. She knew better than to underestimate him. She even had a few small scars as a reminder of that. 

A feral grin spread across his face as he registered her agreement. She didn’t trust that grin. It never preceded anything good. It was too manic as was the light in his eyes. They always shone too bright whenever he got excited, but his excitement always brought her pain. Even though his eyes were shining with that disconcerting glee, they were dark. It was like two black holes staring back at her ready to suck her into his madness. 

“You remember the mazes. Don’t you, little bird?”

A grimace spread across her features, but she nodded. She had extensive experience with the mazes that surrounded the house. They were Taehyung’s favorite game. He’d set her loose in them to run like a scared rabbit. Each time they were different, and she hated them more than anything. They were as dehumanizing as they were unfair. They changed even as she was in them. The walls moved at their master’s bidding, confusing and turning her around through the endless halls of greenery. 

“I remember.” 

“You’re aware by now that there is more than one maze.” He began leaning forward gleefully. Of course she knew. She had tried more than once to slip through the gates that separated the different parts of the labyrinth. “All three sections will be available to you tonight. I’ll give you a twenty minute head start before I follow you in.” 

That caught her attention in the worst sort of way. Taehyung hardly ever entered the maze. She could only recall him doing it once before when she’d fallen and twisted her ankle rather badly after trying to scale one of the hedges. He preferred to watch and taunt from the cameras and speakers hidden throughout the infernal maze. 

Her new found hesitance didn’t seem to deter him though. He continued with just as much enthusiasm as before. “If you can make it out of the maze before dawn, you win,” His grin got even wider excitement coursing through his veins. “But if you fail to solve the maze or I catch you before your time is over, you’re mine.” 

It seemed simple enough, but nothing was ever simple when it came to Taehyung, and this would be the first time that he had actively hunted her through the maze. While she would have the whole of the labyrinth at her disposal, Taehyung still held an unfair advantage. They were his mazes. He knew them far better than she did despite the many times she had run through the mazes. He made sure to change them before she ran a particular section again. She had no idea how large the full Maze would actually be or what sort of traps he had laid for her within it. 

“As simple as that?” She asked slowly, skeptically. 

In the past, if she could complete or beat his game, she was free to go. He would even have some faceless driver take her back to the city where she would run as far as she could as fast as she could even though she knew he would find her again. She had no more desilusiones of being able to hide from him permanently. It was the whole reason she had decided to agree to this despite the unfair odds. It was a chance for complete freedom. 

“As simple as that, little bird.” He purred dark eyes boring into her. “Shall we?” 

He was more than eager to begin. The sooner they started, the sooner she would be in his arms. He had everything prepared for her. 

He’d moved into the house that Namjoon had provided in the vicinity of the main estate. With Hoseok, Jin, Yoongi, and Namjoon all starting families of their own, Namjoon had formed a sort of gated community surrounding the main estate. There was a house for each of them. Hoseok had taken Iyla from the main estate to settle her into her new home before Namjoon and Jin returned with Y/N. Yoongi and his little family had moved into their designated house as well. Sen was thrilled with the space for their son to run around in, and Taehyung could hardly wait to fill his own house with little ones. They’d have to start right away once he took her home. He wanted a big family after all. They’d have to start soon if they were going to meet his goals. 

She nodded stiffly standing up from her chair. It was better to get it over with whether she was going to win or lose. If she won, it was all the better to have her freedom sooner. If she lost, it was better not to have her hopes up for too long. It would only prolong her heartache.

She was quick to leave the heels that had been foisted on her at the door. They would do her no good in the maze. Heels never worked well on the soft ground and the grass. They would only slow her down. If she was going to fail, she preferred it be because she had failed to solve the maze than give Taehyung the added satisfaction of catching her himself.

She was about to head into the maze through the entrance Taehyung had led her to when he pulled her back by the wrist. The jolt sent her flying back into his chest much to his delight.

“I’m giving you your head start, but I’ll see you soon.” She was going to bite back with an acerbic response, but Taehyung cut her off with a searing kiss, one she wanted to immediately wipe away, but that would have only served to make him angry, and she had no time to waste.

Without a word to him, she hiked up her skirts, disappearing into the maze.  Twenty minutes wasn’t a long time, and she had to make the best of it or regret it later.

She had never had the entirety of the maze open to her, and it made her apprehensive. Even one section of the maze was hard enough to master, let alone all three of them. Trick walls and dead ends littered the halls, and Taehyung always made sure that each time she entered the hedges that she’d find them just as difficult.

She rushed through the paths cursing the dress that Taehyung had dressed her up in. The slit at least provided her with free movement, but only the demon that was Kim Taehyung would force her to run a maze in an evening gown. He was over dramatic like that.

Another thing to curse was the abundance of dead ends that thwarted her at seemingly every turn. They forced her to back track far more often than she would have liked or was prudent. No matter where she turned, it seemed like she was only going in circles. As much as she hated him, she had to admit that he had pulled out all the stops for their final game.  

Taehyung had retreated into the house to wait out the twenty minutes before he could follow his little bird into the maze. Logically, he knew it wasn’t long to wait, but the anticipation made the minutes stretch on into eternity. He passed the time watching her on his phone. The cameras gave him an unfair advantage, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was more than happy to watch her wear herself out. He had always kept the maze at least somewhat fair, but he wasn’t willing to give her that advantage this time. He had promised her that if she could escape the labyrinth before dawn, she would be free, but there was no escape. The only exits lead straight back to the house, and making it back to the house did not count as solving the maze.

He knew it was unfair, but it didn’t matter. He was tired of waiting, and she would be his whether she liked it or not. This at least gave her the illusion of a chance. There would be no escaper for her.

When the twenty minutes had past, Taehyung took to the maze, leisurely strolling down its paths as he trailed after his prize. He had the advantage of his little spies and the trick walls. He could herd her however he liked with those. He had the entire labyrinth at his fingertips, and she would never even know. Or perhaps she would. She was a clever little bird, and he wouldn’t put it past her to have figured it out. It was one of the many things he loved about his little bird.

With every step he was brought closet to her, he made sure of it. Doors were strategically closed guiding her towards dead ends and herding her back towards him. There was no need for him to strain himself. His poor Aerie was going to be exhausted before the evening was over, but that wouldn’t stop her from putting up a fight. He expected he’d have to carry her back to the house whether it was because she refused to come or from sheer exhaustion. It didn’t matter to him. She’d be in his arms either way.

It was easy to catch up to her with how much backtracking his meddling had forced her to do, but Taehyung wasn’t finished playing yet.

“Give up, little bird!” He called out knowing she was just on the other side of the hedge. “I’m going to find you!” A grin spread across his features as he heard the sound of her taking off further into the maze.

Perfect. She was headed directly to the center of the maze. He’d catch her there, and even if he didn’t, it wouldn’t be long until he caught her, not when he could see her every move.

“Come out, come out where ever you are!” He trilled out turning a corner and catching the faintest glimpse of her ankle as she ran around a different corner.

“Wouldn’t it be so much easier just to give up?” He cooed driving her further into the maze. It would be easier to subdue her when she was tired, and with the way she had been running around, she was bound to be exhausted. “I know you’re tired, little bird.” He sang catching another glimpse of her turning a corner. “You’ve done so well, but it’s time to go home. Don’t you want to go home, little bird?”

Her heart was pounding against her chest as she ran further into the maze. Taehyung’s words hounded her every step pushing her forward as panic coursed through her veins. Even if she was going to lose, she wasn’t going to go willingly. He’d have to drag her back. And with every step she was regretting her decision to run the maze. It felt less like a chance and more as if he was toying with her. He was always toying with her.

“Come on, little bird!” He called again drawing nearer excitement coursing through him as he pushed her towards the end game.

She burst through the path and into what had to be the center of the maze. There was a fountain there and two other paths leading out, but just as she made to run towards one of them, a gate slammed shut. She made for the other path only for the same thing to happen. There was only one way out, and she could hear Taehyung coming down that path calling out to her.

“No!” She shrieked pulling at the wrought iron of the gate trying to force it open, but it was no use. The door wouldn’t budge.

“Awww,” she could hear her tormenters deep voice coo, far too close by for comfort. “It looks like you’re trapped, little bird.”

She whirled around to face him eyes wide and chest heaving. “You cheated.” She hissed hands gripping the bars behind her as though to stabilize herself.

“I never said I wouldn’t.” He shrugged strolling towards her. “Game over.”

“You cheated!” She snarled again though her back was pressed against the bars in the hope that she’d somehow slip through them A foolish hope. He wouldn’t allow her to escape, not now.

He held out a hand to her smiling brightly as he beckoned her forward. “Come along, little bird. It’s time to go home.”