#needs to look sufficiently important and intimidating

[tenthhell]

Updated Orianna bc I got a mod to work + a rough approximation of Asmodeus' avatar.

[octoberautumnbox]

Yasss, time has come for more Yuri fics, looking forward to a Yuri ult stan :>

Thing with Yuri is, you can never know what to expect next. One moment she's a fluffy puppy cuddling with you then the next she's got you in her grip edging you all day. Just a crazy switch brat. Though that's why I fell hard for her

Enjoy

IZ*ONE/Soloist Jo Yuri & Male Reader

Word count: 2882

Categories/warnings: smut, alcohol, implied violence & blood, very slight dubcon, blowjob, handjob, breast play, cowgirl, kiss-and-fuck, only a little bit rough, okay maybe a tiny bit more rough. 

a/n: got way too into the setup im so sorry ill put a marker down there for the actual smut. also big thank you to @iznsfw for the pic ive been looking for this forever. lastly not proofread nor beta’d bc i still haven’t reached out to anyone seriously for writing tips and stuff yet aaaa

Everyone said Yuri was a good person: all sweet-looking, nice to everyone, takes a joke just as well as the next girl. Wouldn't hurt a fly even if she wanted to. There was something about her though; you couldn't place exactly what, but you were convinced nobody was that naturally sweet. Something was up with her.

It's a good thing then that she wasn't anyone particularly important. Jo Yuri was just another person that you'd never needed to talk to in the six months since class began. It was easy enough to ignore her, and ignore her you did. 

"You've been cooped up for way too long. Come on, 8 pm. Round of drinks on me if you show. Leave right after if you want. I swear. Just enjoy yourself." Your friend loomed over the table, blocking the light from your copy of 1984. Putting your palm on the top of his head, you closed your grip around a handful of his hair and pulled his head to where your book was sufficiently illuminated. "I'll think about it," you mutter before looking back to the yellowing paper. "Ryujin will be there too." Your friend occupied the seat next to you, rubbing his head where you grabbed. "And her friends. Isa, Minjeong, that cutie from ours you hate so fucking much," he says with a smirk, as if it was the checkmate that would make you drop everything and go. "Didn't take her to be into that type of thing," you say without looking up, "Ryujin, sure, but – what's her name? Yuri? – Feels like she just couldn't say no." He shrugs. "Maybe. What matters in the end is she'll be there, she's single, and she's got a hell of a rack." "Fucking perv. Anyway, I'll think about it." He smirks at you again. "Not because of Yuri, god dammit."

~~~

You shut your laptop and stretch. You rub your eyes for a good minute before wiping away the fatigue to find your clock striking 7. You stare at it, as if intimidating it to go faster and faster to past 8 pm so you wouldn't have to go. Defeatedly, and with regret already seeping into your mind, you get up from your chair and grab a towel. 

~~~

“Hey, long time no fucking see!” Ryujin swings her arm around your shoulders and spills half her drink onto the floor. “Hey, Ryu. Glad to see you're already half-shitfaced this early into the night.” “Fuck you. By the way, meet Isa,” she says as she drags you towards one of the booths. “We've met. Hi, Isa.” She waves and downs a shot of gin. “Who convinced you to come all the way out here?” Isa slams the shot glass onto the wooden table, nearly cracking it and probably denting the wood. “Ah, also shitfaced. I was just free, that's all. Nice to see you again.” She waves again before burying her face in her hands. You drop Ryujin onto an open space in the seats before heading for the bar.

“There he is! Fuck you, man. Stay a little!” Your friend turns around and yells, “Round of drinks on me!” The bar roars with cheers as you take a seat on one of the stools. “Glad you could make it, dude! It’s been forever! Hey, enjoy yourself. See any chicks you like? Maybe enjoy someone else too?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you obnoxiously. Thinking he’d be distracted within the next five seconds, you mutter to the bartender an order of a bottle of beer. Just then, you watch as your friend is approached by another guy, talked to a little, and then dragged off in a semi-drunk daze away to some other group. 

“Three margaritas, please.” You turn around to the stool on the other side of you. “Oh, you’re in my class, right? I don’t think I’ve introduced myself. I’m Yuri,” she says with the cutest smile you’ve ever seen. The bartender places her three drinks on the counter and pops the cap off your own before setting it in front of you as well. “Right, I like your top,” gesturing to a little chain by the neckline. “Do you need help carrying those, by any chance? Or are all three of them for you?” She chuckles shyly. “Would you mind giving me a hand bringing these over to the booth with Isa and Ryujin over there?” 

~~~

Your phone reads 11:00 pm. Ryujin’s face is practically glued to the table, and Isa continues mumbling into her palms about her teddy bears wondering why she hasn’t come home yet. Your friend is sitting next to and has his arm around Ryujin, and you can guess where his free hand is. Knowing you’ve drunk a few yourself, you get up and walk cautiously yet in no straight line towards the toilets. After doing your business, you wash your hands and leave. On the way out of the bathroom, you set your mind to wake up Ryujin and offer to see her and Isa home. 

As you make your way back to the booth, you find a pair of guys huddled by a corner. You see between them a familiar figure. In your daze you fight to recall why it’s something you can recall, and then it hits you. The glint of the chain on her neckline catches your eye and you walk over to them, for the second time regret seeping into your mind before anything even happens. You’re way too drunk, you think to yourself. Whatever happens next is a bad idea, but you steel your resolve that it has to happen.

“Oh, Oppa!” She turns both guys’ attention to you, and they start throwing you dirty looks. “Hey, come on. Everyone’s drunk, we’d better go.” You make for her wrist, but one of the guys pushes you back. You notice the other guy has his hand on her shoulder, keeping her against the wall. “Why don’t you look after your friends, and we’ll look after her?” “Don’t make me do this,” you quip as you take a step forward again. After hearing them chuckle, the alcohol takes over you, your vision flashes, and finally fades to red. The last thing you remember is swinging high and kicking low.

~~~

You slowly come to, raising your head from the headrest. A stinging pain and a cold touch on the corner of your mouth greet you as your vision stabilizes from quadruple, to triple, and to double, before settling your focus on a bottle of antiseptic solution on the coffee table in front of you. Immediately, you shut your eyes as tight as they can go, deciding wherever you are is too bright, and deciding that the pain on your temple and across your forehead has something to do with how hard you’re shutting your eyes. 

“You didn’t have to do that. I was just about to leave.” You hear pieces of ice clink against each other as the cold touch moves to your forehead. “Hi, Yuri. They didn't do much worse to you did they?” “No,” she says in a relieved tone, “you saved me. It was a lot to take in honestly, but they’re worse off than you are. Thank you.” The cold spot again moves to the corner of your mouth. 

You struggle your eyes open and find her right up in your face, inspecting what you think is a wound by your eyebrow. She notices you staring at her and she backs off quickly. “Sorry… That one looked pretty bad.” “Thanks for looking after me. Where are we?” You try to sit up, only to be forced back down by a number of painful spots all over your back and torso. “You fought them, they fought back,” she pushes you down firmly onto the sofa and brings the ice bag back onto your face, “you won. We got back to the booth, and you made me call a taxi. You carried Isa-unnie and Ryujin into the taxi,” she hands you a glass of water, which you begin sipping, “and I got the other oppa. We dropped off Isa-unnie, then your friend. You wouldn’t tell me where to drop you off,” she takes the empty glass, “so I had no choice but to bring you here. Ryujin is upstairs in her room.” 

You sit up more comfortably. “Thanks, Yuri. I owe you one.” You check the time, and find it’s 2:00 am. “Sorry for intruding so late. I should go–” “You’re…” she interrupts. “You're in no condition to go home alone. Spend the night. Please?” She looks at you with a pair of puppy dog eyes and flashes a heart with her hands to you. “I… Thank you.” You lay back onto the sofa, the fatigue you didn’t know you had overwhelming you into oblivion.

~~~

(smut starts here)

You open your eyes slowly, taking advantage of the darkness.The first thing you notice are the closed pink curtains, and next is the fluffy scent of baby powder and fresh shampoo. You continue trying to get your bearings, and an immense wave of pleasure shoots up your spine. You look down and see Yuri licking your dick up and down, savoring each stroke of her tongue and letting her spit cover every inch. 

You place a hand on her nape, and she looks up at you. “Oh, good morning. Am I doing this right, Oppa?” She takes another long drag of her tongue from the base to your tip, causing you to moan lightly. “I’w thake that ash a yesh,” she mumbles as she places the head of your cock onto her tongue. “Yuri, what are you…” She takes half your length into her mouth and hollows out her cheeks to suck you off. She releases your dick with a pop, “I feel like I haven’t thanked you enough for last night. Call it even?” She smiles as innocently as can be, and then takes your cock into her mouth again. “Please tell me if you feel uncomfortable, I’ll stop if you want…” “Keep going, baby.” She blushes at the sudden use of her pet name, but returns to her work of thanking you much more profusely than you ever imagined. 

As she continues sucking you off, you snake your hand towards her nightgown and onto her left breast. You ease back into the bed and fondle her through the smooth fabric, earning her own little moans vibrating through her throat and onto your shaft. She lets go of your cock once again, and pulls the straps of her gown off her shoulders. She pulls the smooth dress down, exposing a cute and perky pair of breasts. “Please ogle me a lot, Oppa…” She grabs your shaft again with one hand and makes long and slow strokes up and down your entire length. With her other hand, she takes yours and places it onto her left breast. “Just enjoy… Just enjoy me.” 

“Jack me off faster, baby,” you command her, and she moans slightly at the name again. She goes faster and her grip grows just a bit tighter. She maintains eye contact with you as best as she can despite you pinching her hardening pink nipples, drawing her to close her eyes and let her head lull back. You motion for her to use her mouth again and she obeys immediately, bending over to your dick and granting you easier reach to fondle her other breast. You pay special attention to how she likes her nipples played with, tracing circles along her areolas before taking her nubs between your index finger and thumb to squeeze and tug. In return, she grows a bit more careless with her blowjob, letting her mouth leak more and more saliva, as well as taking in more and more of your length before finally hitting the back of her throat. You accidentally tug on her boobs a bit harder, causing her to moan onto the tip of your dick. You start feeling guilty when she starts sliding your cock out of her mouth, but as you get ready to apologize she lifts up the bottom hem of her nightgown, showing you her clean shaven pussy. She gathers her whole gown into one bunch by her waist before pulling it over her head to leave herself completely naked for you. 

“Please tell me you like me, Oppa…” She pleads slowly and carefully, while bringing your hands to her chest once again. You relish on the warmth and softness of her breasts that you only realize she’s already straddled you and has started stroking your cock again. “Tell me… I want to hear you say it, please.” “You’re so,” she gives you one rapid stroke, “fucking,” she moans as you fondle her more roughly, “hot,” she forces herself to look straight into your eyes again, “Jo Yuri.” She speeds up her handjob, finding it harder and harder to maintain her eye contact in favor of shutting her eyes and letting the pleasure overtake her. “I’m close.” She strokes you rapidly, noticing how your legs are starting to shake, her gaze growing more intense, her squeezing you tighter, your moans getting louder, your grip on her boobs getting rougher and rougher and rougher, until–

She lets go just as you’re about to cum, “Oppa… did you cum?” “Not yet, baby, why’d you stop?” You groan disappointedly at her. “I’m sorry… It’s just… you have to enjoy me more.” She brings her soaked pussy above your cock and rubs the tip all over her lower lips, smearing your precum and her slick together on her hot cunt. You groan again, and she gets the message. Bit by bit, she sinks herself down onto your dick, relishing in the sensation of a huge and girthy cock filling her up. You accidentally squeeze her soft tits too hard again, and with an apologetic harsh tug on both her nipples downward, she abruptly slams herself down onto your waist, taking in your cock to the hilt. You feel every inch of your dick being squeezed by her pussy and soaked with her love juices, and at the end of it you feel your tip prod against what must be her cervix. 

“Never got my toy this deep into me before. Do you like it, Oppa? Does my slutty little fuckhole make you feel good?” She grins evilly at you as she leans forward for a kiss. You barely process her amazingly naughty words before she starts riding you, lifting herself up until only your tip remains in her, before slamming herself down again, taking your entire length into herself. You relish how her cunt clenches around you so lovingly, how tight she is that there’s no way this doesn’t hurt her, how loud she moans while you feel your cock quickly entering and exiting her pussy. 

She plants her elbows on either side of your head and cradles your face right in front of her bouncing chest. You take her right nipple into your mouth and she moans all the more loudly, rides you all the more violently. Your right hand grabs her left breast, fondling it the way that drives her crazy, and your last free hand gripping her ass as a hold to guide her up and down your cock. “Yuri,” you mumble with her nipple between your teeth, “I’m close again…” She rides you harder and you find it more difficult holding it in. You pray she lets you cum this time, calling upon a God you once knew, but also you pray that she lets you pull out first. Or not. As long as you cum. 

You begin sucking more harshly, and she responds by riding you faster; she grinds on your dick and drags your cock over every inch of her warm, wet walls. Her moans grow louder, more desperate, aching for her own release as well. Your grip on her ass tightens too, so much so that her cheeks spill out between your fingers as you pull her closer and pump into her as deep as you humanly can. 

You must’ve hit every last one of her good spots. A scream tears through her throat as she lifts herself off of you. Her cum sprays all over your waist, your cock, her bedsheets, and she even has the indecency to rub her clit all throughout, causing more and more of her cum to spray everywhere. You watch her through her climax, admiring the way her thighs jiggle with every jerk of her hips, the way her nipples stand erect on top of her bouncing boobs, the way her face contorts with an ungodly amount of pleasure she’s never experienced in her life. She falls forward, pressing her still-leaking cunt on your dick, and her breasts onto your chest as she heaves deep breaths through what should be a now-bruised throat. In a raspy yet sweet voice, she asks, “Was it good, Oppa? Did you like the feeling of pounding your horny pleasure girl’s tight little cunt?” She snuggles into your neck and plants little kisses along your jawline. “I haven’t cum yet, baby…” you admit quietly and out of breath. “Oh? That’s fine, Oppa. It just means you can enjoy me more.”

a/n: whoa that was way longer than I ever thought I could write at this point. all of that just this afternoon and only in response to the ask lol. this wasnt in my WIPs tbh and it was just a random BFH that accidentally took me... five hours to write? again im glad how it turned out thanks for reading all this youre awesome

[ddarker-dreams]

Intimidation Ranking / Yan Sumeru Boys.

Kaveh — 2/10

Like... he's writing your names next to one another in his notebook and drawing a heart around it. Kaveh isn't inspiring much fear in the traditional sense. You find him endearing more than anything. He visibly brightens up when you're around, stares off into the horizon and sighs when you're not. His more socially unacceptable tendencies are kept under lock and key (such as his innumerable blueprints for how he'll build your house when you get married, despite how you're both only friends). His romantic rivals don't have to fear for their lives as much as they would if put up against the others on this list. That being said, he still has his methods for dealing with them. It's more psychological in nature. Once he's cemented himself as an important figure in your life, he'll 'exaggerate the truth' (he thinks the word lying has a negative connotation), about any rivals' negative traits. He does this covertly over increments of time so as not to arouse any suspicion. You couldn't possibly look at Kaveh and suspect any wrongdoing on his part.

Alhaitham — 5/10

Alhaitham is weird because he has the potential to rank high, but he'd rather not go that route if it isn't necessary. Outsourcing to criminals would require extra work. He'd prefer to stay in the realm of legality for convenience's sake, perhaps pushing gray areas, but nothing that'll require a major coverup. Just a little good old-fashioned coercion if you're being stubborn about returning his affections. He's crafty, he needn't get his hands dirty to obtain the outcome he desires. Should you be of an academic inclination, he'll utilize his influence in those spheres to impede your progress. There's no physical evidence so you have no means of retaliation. Given his dispassionate demeanor, people will have a hard time believing you should you tell them about this. Alhaitham himself will utilize a similar tactic should you ever confront him. His sound logic and steady voice make you wonder if you really are imagining everything. It's maddening.

Cyno — 7.5/10

Cyno is a force of nature. Once he's set his sights on you, that's it. While it isn't you who needs to be frightened per se, the same cannot be said for those he deems as questionable influences in your life (basically anyone who isn't him that receives your attention). He has the authority and resources to comb through their entire bloodline for any potential wrongdoings. No one's lived a perfect life, he's bound to find something, even if it just ends with them having to pay a fine. Still, in a highly competitive area like Sumeru, having anything on their record is a death sentence. Rumors start circulating that anyone who hangs out around you is subject to meticulous background checks. No one knows why, but that doesn't matter, the risk alone serves as a sufficient deterrent. If they cheated on a test when they were ten, Cyno is going to find out. The man's nothing if not determined. Cyno genuinely thinks he's doing this in your best interest — his conscience is crystal clear. This adds another layer of formidability because there will be no convincing him to stop.

Wanderer — 9/10

As Scaramouche, it would've been a 10/10, but he's had some character development. Emphasis on the word some. Nahida considers his budding attachment to you a healthy development, especially since you're the first person he's taken an active interest in without her involvement. He's keen on maintaining this innocent, well-meaning façade since he's still under surveillance for his previous crimes. This unintentionally works wonders for him. While he still has a sharp tongue, the fact he actively chooses to be in your general vicinity proves you're special to him. You think he's harmless, if not a touch blunt. He's perpetually hanging around and offering to help with whatever you're up to. You're happy, Nahida's happy, and surprisingly enough, he's happy. This cannot be said for anyone else in your friend group. He increases his unpleasantness when around them, never to an incriminating degree, but just enough to give them pause. They'd rather not deal with him and he's always around you, like a miserable little forcefield that repels any outside force. Wanderer may not be free to wreak havoc anymore, but all that means is that he has to get creative about it. Nahida's lack of omnipotence gives him enough room to slink around. Where there's a will, there's a way.

[twistedbloodstain]

could you please write a marquis fanfic where the reader is Akira’s sister and Vincent kidnaps her in hopes to lure John wick but he ends up just falling in love with her 😭

vincent de gramont x reader: i’d live and die for moments that we stole | words and wind.

plot: the one where you entered his estate in chains but left his home with his heart.

warning: lots of threats from mr. gramont here, one sided love, unrequited love, forced proximity but the force is him, akira’s sister!reader, dutiful reader, vincent winning the idgaf war a little too much here

masterlist

part two

a stroke of pain slowly goes through your temples, you wince. remembering how you accidentally hit your head on the floor when one of the guards had scampered on you when you tried to flee him, that’s when you realized that the marquis had no intention of negotiating with you.

it’s not often that you end up with situations like these, especially with how generous and thoughtful your terms had been with the marquis. you’ve gone through worse terms and even worser odds of successful negotiations, you just hadn’t realized what a fucking animal he was. for this to happen is surely a jab on your pride.

a metal clink rings through the room, a heavy and thick chain bound to your ankle. it was starting to cramp your leg with how large the chain was, you had half a mind to saw it out of your body because you feared that it might’ve lost function with how numb it was starting to feel.

the door opens and you look up. you don’t see anything or anyone right away with how dark it was. you had little to no source of light due to the current state of the night. it was pitch black and the only source of light you had was through the small window so far up the wall during the day.

but you don’t need to see to know who came through the door. it was the marquis, ever since your capture he had visited you in random times of the night to “negotiate.” which fueled your hatred for him due to him disturbing your sleep.

luckily, you’ve been expecting him.

a light bulb suddenly turns on which weakly illuminates the room, the luminescence was patchy but it was a welcoming sight to you. finally, you could see your prison.

you look up to him, still sat on the floor. it takes all your strength to not to lurch at him in anger even with the fact that his guards could easily deflect your attack and lead you somewhere worse.

the room you found yourself in was thankfully, clean. it was the size of a prison cell though, they did give you sufficient enough food but sometimes you had refused them out of lividness.

the small room seemed even smaller with the current person occupying it, the marquis’ height was staggering to behold and you had to admit it was intimidating at first.

all his aggressive and intimidation seemed nothing to your fury and determination as of now. it had all melted the moment he locked you in a cell which you assumed meant to drive you to compliance or insanity. he had another thing coming if he thought that one of shimazu’s children would bend to his fucking will.

“this is unacceptable and cruel, mademoiselle. i have recently received this unfavorable news from the tokyo continental. i found it important to share this with you immediately.” he speaks up then pauses. you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at this as you look into his eyes in disbelief.

he’s playing a new game with you again. a futile attempt for compliance but you’re not sure he knows it. did he think you were stupid and naive?

“after the recent assumptions of your capture, i had informed him of the new terms we agreed to…for a certain excommunicated individual, yet my informants say he has refused to comply even with the threat of his beloved daughter..being killed.” he continues when he notices that you had rolled your eyes at that. “he claims that you would’ve never agreed to it, we disagree with that don’t we, mademoiselle?” he mockingly asks.

you hadn’t agreed, which is precisely why you’re locked up in a cemented cage in the middle of nowhere. you had expected him to be courteous and polite as a representative of the table but you should’ve also expected that he wouldn’t be lenient with you.

“what kind of father abandons his daughter to die? not a good one, i suppose.” he taunts, “i have no idea how you must feel, anger probably. even under that facade you have-“

“lies have always come easy to you. does it?” you interrupt him.

this makes a corner of his lips tug, a smirk almost forming in the process.

“i have something for you.” he announces, you see a small box in his hand as he makes his way to you. you carefully eye him in hesitation as he kneels in front of you.

“anger too, you don’t seem the type to forgive and forget, everyone but me seems to know that.” you continue.

“in this world we live in, forgiveness should have no place in our hearts and forgetting is simply ignorance with different letters.” he replies as he sets the box down next to you.

“but concern, care and innocence…you’re not very good at that are you?” you finish in false pondering.

he chuckles at your words before replying to your statement, “you don’t seem to be alright. perhaps we can speak again when you are feeling much better?”

“we both know you did this, you are at fault for this and it amuses you to play with the lie that my father has forsaken me but i bet that he doesn’t even know about these terms you’ve offered, tell me what exactly were you trying to achieve?”

“i know that question is rhetorical but i will answer that for your enlightenment. accept the terms and you can finally go home. invite him to the continental under the guise of safe conduct and kill him, your father is acquainted with him, he will have his guard down.” he states matter of factly, you scoff at this.

“yes, i would finally go home. only to lead my family to fucking die, we both know what you’re asking from us. even if my father’s sentiments were put aside, we cannot kill him.” you urge him, “the moment he realizes our folly, my family is as good as buried.”

“my men will be present the moment he enters the establishment, you have nothing to fear. get your father to comply so we may finally get rid of him.”

“and how many men are you willing to offer?”

“sixty, but ten should be able to suffice. they’re quite proficient in their craft.”

“ten men or sixty, it matters little. they’ll be dead.” you scoff.

“your father won’t be the only old friend he’ll be seeing. i assume, you know caine?”

you quiet as you take that information in, you realized how desperate the high table must be to have john wick dead and how your family will be the one to pay the price for his death, which will surely be another insignificant number of dead people for them.

“having second thoughts, mademoiselle?” he eagerly inquires.

“with all due respect, i have to refuse you. accepting your terms puts a target on my family, i cannot risk that.” you disclose.

the marquis frowns, his eyes full of disappointment and displeasure from your answer. you presume that he must be on his way to leave you again, only to return in the middle of the night with another set of flowery words and false pretenses of remorse.

he suddenly yanks the chain strapped on your ankle and you yelp in pain, the skin wrapped around your bones is definitely sore and bruising. you’re pulled closer to him, you feel fear and fury fighting for control with the situation you’re facing.

“i have been too kind to you, mademoiselle. i hoped that my kindness to you would help you find common cause with me, it has failed and it will never work i finally see. i have a new proposal to make.” he grits out as he keeps his eyes on you, “get your father to follow the high table’s orders or they die. your father and sister, both. if you refuse to, rest assured i will send their heads to you.” he threatens.

he gets back up on his feet as he watches you take the information in while he slips his hand into his pocket, you hold back the cry that was boiling under your throat and your tears that were trying to escape the corner of your eyes. you look away from him, knowing that he noticed your current state of emotions but you can’t afford to feel weak and see his reaction out of it at the same time.

you wince inside with how pathetic you feel right now.

“perhaps that will give you a new answer to offer to me.” he taunts again, you promise to yourself that once you got out of here, he was fucking dead. one way or another he would be lifeless on the ground and it would be because of you.

“get out.” you whisper.

“finally, have you found your voice?”

“i said get out, you hateful bitch!” you scream at him, hurling the wooden box at him.

pieces of paper and stationery explode on the floor and you clench your jaw in anger at his statement.

“call out when you finally have an answer. hopefully, it is a letter to your father about your acquiescence.” he mutters as he makes his way to the door.

you lean back and sigh, finally letting a stray tear fall down your cheek.

you carefully watch the doctor inspect your ankle, you’re currently reclined on a soft loveseat placed in the middle of the elegantly furnished room. the marquis has taste you had to admit, though his home looked more like a palace than somewhere you’d relax.

you sigh to yourself, still annoyed that you were still in your prison. a lovelier one compared to the previous room but still a prison. you had given in to his demands, sooner or later john wick was entering the territory of the tokyo continental as expected. you had reluctantly written to your father about your agreement to the marquis’ orders, you desperately wanted to write the truth. in your days of isolation, it had only been you and your anger, leaving you to doubt certain aspects of your family.

you expected that your father might’ve been wary about your lengthy absence in france that he might at least send some of his men to come and fetch you yet you had heard nothing of the sort. this led you to doubt your family’s love for you but all these speculations turned to dust the moment the marquis entered the room.

it’s all his doing, you tell yourself.

he must be making it look like the negotiation was going smoothly and that you definitely weren’t locked up in a prison cell somewhere.

all your uncertainties were replaced with plans of malice the moment you had yourself free from the marquis. your long days spending time with yourself helped you formulate a plan to take him down simply because he had detained you.

and threatened to murder your family. it’s not really that petty.

he said it himself, forgiving and forgetting doesn’t exist in this world you both live in. it’s only fair.

of course, he wouldn’t die directly by your hand.

but you know someone that could.

you smile to yourself at the thought of him dead on the floor.

the doors fling open and the devil himself walks in.

you look back to see him, once again dressed impeccably and sophisticated. the marquis gestures his hand and you look back to the doctor who nods when he sees the movement of his hand then leaves.

he really has everyone with the flick of his hand.

he makes his way on the couch across you, embellished with silk and golden patterns dancing around the fabric. the couch creases as he sets himself down on the comfy material.

“i hope everything is to your liking, mademoiselle?” he starts as he leans back into the couch.

“it is, thank you.” you hesitantly thank him.

“no need, the high table rewards obedience and loyalty. sure, you have lost yourself in the earlier stages but it matters little. you have made the right choice.” he smirks at you, you fake a smile at him at his words.

“right.”

“how is your ankle?” he gestures at your limb propped on a footstool.

“better i think.” you speculate.

“that’s lovely to hear, you will need your strength soon. the earlier it heals the better.” he states.

you don’t make a reply out to him, choosing to stay silent. you knew his courtesies were empty as you learned the hard way plus what was there to say to him? you had questions for him but you weren’t sure he was eager to answer them or he reveled in leaving you in the dark, literally or figuratively.

not to mention, you still carried a heavy baggage of anger for him. there was no space for any sort of genuine amenity between the both of you, he had threatened to murder your father and sister, although you knew it was an effort to coerce you to follow his demands but you couldn’t help but feel that they weren’t empty threats.

you knew caine, he was an old friend of john’s and you also knew that the marquis was free to command him where to go and who to kill under the threat of murdering his daughter. you wince at this, as much as you knew that bloodshed often led to messier circumstances, you knew that as long as the marquis lived he could pull that card on you to make you obey.

who knows how much more you would have to sacrifice just to obey his whim? his words left a heavy impact on you, it had plagued you day and night which you anticipate was what the marquis wanted. you had written the letter to your father out of fear for their lives. your fear and fury was balanced, the more fear you felt the more fuel for your fury towards him.

that’s good, you’ll need all of that to get rid of him.

“does that mean i’ll stop being your prisoner?” you raise your eyebrow at him.

“prisoner? you speak of delusions, you are sitting on one of my chairs and staying in my home. you are no prisoner.” he scoffs.

you roll your eyes at him, the first lie always wins but the truth can easily cleanse that out, he can tell people whatever he likes but as long as they know of his nature your story is much more persuasive than his.

“then that means i can go home?” you ponder even if you already know the answer.

“what kind of host lets his guest leave their house injured and alone? certainly not someone like me, i insist you heal and rest.”

“the sooner i go home the sooner we can prepare for john wick’s arrival.” you firmly state.

he always liked to start conversations like this, pleasant courtesies and empty greetings, basically playing dumb.

“your father can prepare on his own, he has another daughter to help him. i wouldn’t worry too much.”

that can’t happen. you planned on seeking john wick yourself as soon as you left, you presumed that your letter might’ve brought you to the good graces of the marquis but you were clearly mistaken. you groan to yourself, your days of captivity had left you out of touch with reality and more opportunistic than before.

“are you serious?”

“i’m afraid i am.”

you want to scream at him again, you know that he’s not keeping you because of how much a gracious host he was. he was keeping you here so your father remains obedient and loyal to the high table. you were leverage, to make your father comply so that he doesn’t turn against them at the last second.

“are you so uncertain of your control that you need to make everyone bend at your will? you have forced me to my knees, what else do you want?” you ridicule him, the marquis frowns at this and rebuts.

“it is merely a precaution, mademoiselle. we must be careful with how we deal with situations like these, as you have learned.”

“my father will need me.” you state.

“you are an emissary, it is not befitting your station.”

“earlier you had this envoy shackled by chains and locked in a cell, you’ll have to be more specific to what is befitting my station.”

“the answer is no.”

you can feel anger bubbling under your skin again, although you did plan to enact your plan of revenge on him. you can’t help but feel rage at his stubbornness. once you finally sought john wick, you planned to help him challenge the marquis in a duel. something the marquis surely can’t refuse, his pride will definitely make him think that he has the upper hand on this but with the history of the excommunicated assassin there is little to no chance he’d be making it out alive.

he’ll probably pull a few unexpected obstacles and tricks to deter john wick but it should be a little nuisance for him, he already came this far. he wouldn’t lose by now.

“you will need all the help you can get when taking him down. it’s specifically why you have enlisted our help.” you convince him. hopefully, that should make him listen. he doesn’t like helping anyone other than himself.

“you sound too eager don’t you?” the marquis questions in suspicion.

“the earlier this is finished the sooner we can get back with our lives.” you smile.

you can shorten your time, all you would need was a few minutes with john to tell him what to do. you could make your way to winston to also help john in taking the marquis down out of vengeance for his recently departed friend and demolished hotel.

all you need to do is leave the marquis’ estate.

he quiets from your statement and sighs in resolve, “fine. i will let you go, i see no reason to refuse your request but you will arrive there with caine the moment john wick is sighted within the tokyo continental, is that understood?”

you grin in victory.

the first piece of his downfall begins.

“but rest assured mademoiselle, if i hear a whisper that you’ve turned against me the tokyo continental will be turned to ashes like the new york’s, with you and your family inside it.” he warns, with mockery and amusement on his lips.

your stomach churns in dread.

taglist: @blsmbr

author’s note: this is supposed to be a one part fic only but tumblr won’t let me copy and paste the entire thing soo…here is part 1 will post again tomorrow. :) i’m currently working on other requests so this should be quick, like and reblog also feel free to request!

[uneednotknow]

Vaughn Morozov

A hc of what I imagine him to be like.

Vaughn Morozov, the Pakhan's heir. The Gentleman of the Bratva. The Manipulator. The Mastermind.

He isnt necessarily silent and quiet but he doesn't talk much, either. He got the manners, the charm and the etiquette of what one would call the ideal man. He has the looks, the body, the height, the hair and the money. But above all he is responsible and a smart man.

He knows when and how to use his charm especially in terms of business to either get the deal done or to deceit. He knows and plans things so effortlessly well, its almost flawless. He is also 10 steps ahead of everyone. He is analytical and calculative. A Mastermind. He rules the game, the world and the people, and he would do it so easily that they won't even realise it.

He isnt known as the gentleman for no reason. He is respectful and straightforward. Unlike most of the ruthless men in the Bratva, who springs to brutal actions almost immediately, he is calm. He resorts to let the mind games play, he likes messing up the mentality of the people, because he understands that mental pain is possibly more cruel and painful than physical pain. He resorts to quietly finishing the job because he isnt a fan of showcasing his work to the people.

He is so eloquent with his words and works. He dont need to talk much to get people to his side. He is a man of his words but mostly a man of actions. He won't hesitate to strike when nobody is looking, he won't hesitate to manipulate and make things work out on his favour.

He is a smart man, he knows what strings to pull, what steps to take. And it all comes from being a logical thinker, it comes from having parents who are one of the most important figures in the Bratva, he knows he needs to be well aware of his surroundings in case trouble strikes. It comes from seeing situations through every looking glass. It comes from being a great born-leader.

He likes to keep the side of his street clean and that's very hard to maintain especially being in the mafia. But nobody knows what happens to people who has crossed him or his loved ones. You just know they have suffered gravely. He keeps his business private. Those who needs to know will know and that's it.

He drives. Really, really well. The Mercesdes-Benz, his parents got him for his 18th birthday is one of his prized possessions. He dont ask for much from his parents, he rarely does. Mostly because they have provided him with all that he needed. And it's because he doesn't want to leech off people, he doesn't want to ask things from anyone when he knows he is equally capable of being able to do things for himself.

When he is in the UK, he rides his bike, going for joy rides with them. Though he maybe the youngest, he is undoubtedly a brilliant and mature one. Sophisticated and intimidating, Vaughn enjoys his chase. But he also let's down his guard and takes in the fresh air of youth, he knows how to enjoy his life while learning not to be vulnerable in the eyes of the people.

He can cook, clean, fend for himself. He is self-sufficient and has learned from a young age that there is no other way to success other than hard work along with smart work.

He likes to read. He like to solve puzzles, play chess, watch crime documentaries and just solve anything that needs to be solved. Maybe that's boring for most but that's how he keeps his brain to actively work and think strategically.

He is also athletic, joining the school's sports team to keep himself physically fit. He may not be the best at it but he is above average, he plays football, basketball, tennis. Exceptionally great at ice hockey (according to my headcannon.)

Because he likes to keep himself updated with the people around him and the world, he knows many things about people. If he wants he can extract informations that people have tried their best to hide too.

He might even enlist in the military, just like his mom and dad and climb ranks, but he might not stay long to accomplish that, maybe for 2 or 3 years. Because he has other responsibilities. But he will be there for the experience and knowledge.

He is academically thriving as well. Taking up computer science, physics or any of the challenging STEM subjects, because like mentioned above he likes to keep his brain to actively work to find solutions.

He is without a doubt a great son and a great friend. He won't say it out loud but he will, for sure, be their for people who needs him. Be it for advise or just be there for them. He is a great companion to his dad, helping him with works, though his father never asks him to burden himself with such works at a young age. He is a great son to his mom, driving her to places, going shopping for anything, helping his mom around the house though they have people for that.

He is the type of son, whose parents need not worry about him doing the wrong thing or being in thr wrong place. They only worry about him over working himself. He likes to be in his best behaviour, be the best in what he do.

Overall, Vaughn Morozov, is a man, who obviously has his flaws but doesn't shy away from correcting himself and move forward to be better and stronger.

He made a cameo and im intrigued by him. But honestly, as much as I want to read about him judging by how RK has disappointed some(most) of her characters in their own books, I'm afraid she might do the same to Vaughn too. So in a way, it's better to leave him as he is, but at the same time he seems to be a character full of potential, to me at least.

Anyways, thank you for reading my previous post.

Hope you enjoy this as well.

[cloudcountry]

Hi darling! May I have some hcs for Vil, Jamil, Azul, Leona and Idia (separate) with a tomboy & rebel fem!MC who is not so affectionate with them in public, but when alone, she showers them with love ‘cause she is to shy for to much PDA?

Long request, sorry (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

Also, new follower!

Sorry for any grammar mistakes, kisses from Brazil <3

SUMMARY: Leona, Azul, Jamil, Vil, & Idia with a tomboy s/o who is affectionate in private.

WARNINGS: None!!

COMMENTS: this is so cute i love the tough but secretly affectionate trope :C dont say sorry, there's no need!! i've gotten longer requests anyways C: and you're doing great dear, thank you for being so kind!! <3 while editing i realized i used no pronouns in this aside from you??? so its not explicitly a fem!s/o but you can imagine the reader as fem!!

Leona doesn’t bat an eye at your tough nature. He’s already accustomed to dealing with people like you, people who are self-sufficient and will defend the ones they love at all costs. After all, he leads a dorm full of them.

You’re not a wimp. That’s one of the things he grows to appreciate about you after getting more familiar with what some of the other dorms are like. Little does he know that you have a softer, squishier side, and it displays itself to him quite a few times as the two of you grow closer.

He can’t say he minds it when you lay down with him and rub his ears or run your fingers through his hair or massage his shoulders. Like I said before on this blog, this man looooves being spoiled. You’re giving him the best of both worlds here.

Azul saw you roughhousing with Floyd once and nearly burst a blood vessel. How are you holding your own? What?! And why do you look like you’re actually having fun?! What is wrong with the people here?

It takes a bit for him to warm up to you in typical Azul style. At first he kept you around because you were basically a free bodyguard (not that he needed one. But you certainly add to the intimidation factor!!)

It becomes a bit more than that when you start treating him so sweetly. Bringing him tea when he’s tired, smiling at him so softly, holding his other hand and playing with his fingers while he works. Goodness, you truly are an enigma!

Jamil nearly broke his neck when he heard you scolding Kalim for piling work on his plate. Someone? Noticed?? How hard he's working??? To be fair, this doesn’t mean he can let you get away with scolding Kalim...so now he has to scold you.

You don’t stop, though. Whenever Kalim does something stupid and outlandish you are always there to tell him no. You say that one word and leave no room for argument, and it leaves Jamil’s head whirling in confusion.

You become even more confusing when you start doting on him. It takes a bit for Jamil to get used to it, to realize that you literally don’t want anything from him other than his happiness. You can’t blame him, he isn’t used to this at all!

While Vil does approve of how tough you are, he does not approve of you convincing Epel to fight people that irritate him. Epel has not yet learned to pick his battles, and with your well-intentioned encouragement, Vil is finding more and more bruises on his underclassman.

He does find himself becoming fond of your independence. It’s important to be able to take care of yourself in this world, and you do that beautifully. He finds himself spending a bit more time with you (mostly because of a certain first year) and before he knows it, he finds your softer side.

There’s a certain joy that comes with being someone you care about this much. Vil is no stranger to others praising his beauty, but rarely are his true efforts noticed. They’re usually played off with a simple “Oh, he works hard,” but you do not. You make note of small things he did during the day that impressed you, and it makes his heart flutter in his chest.

Idia was scared of you at first. I mean, what is he supposed to do in the face of a total OP character? It’s like you had maxed out strength stats and you had so much confidence too! You were like one of those really scary anime characters that—

Oh, what’s this? You’re not one of those characters, you’re actually the scary but soft type?! WOAH! Talk about a plot twist! Even more of a plot twist is the fact that you latched onto him, and now every time you see his tablet floating around the hallways you stop by to say hello.

Ortho is absolutely delighted at this turn of events, bringing you up to his brother every chance he gets. Ortho has even analyzed your schedule just so he can get the two of you to hang out someday. Cue classic Idia whining!

[asoiafsworld]

tw; dom!abby, sub!reader, abby has a real dick, breeding, size kink, daddy kink, mentions of somnophilia

there's loud moans and pathetic whines that you can hear from yourself. you're on your knees with your ass up in the air and your head is hanging low on your pillow, crying out as you try to stiffle your moans. when you turn your head and look at your girlfriend with teary eyes, you already know that you will not walk for the rest of the week.

abby is relentless in her pace, holding your hips so tightly that it will surely bruise. she looks so attractive when she curses under her breathe every thrust inside you, how her eyes want to close themselves so badly and let the feeling of your tight, wet heat wash over her but she can't. she keeps staring down at where her dick disappears inside of you, staring at it as if she's hypnotized. from this angle, she looks even bigger than she usually does.

it's what first attracted you to abby, if you're honest. the way she so naturally towered over you with her above average height, the way her broadness makes her look so intimidating and fuck, her muscles. you had never seen a woman so strong, physically and mentally and every fibre of your being was attracted to her the minute you met her. the way she automatically takes on a caring and protective nature around you only made your feelings for her increase because you know that whenever she kills an infected or a human to keep you safe, you could not be with anyone else more capable of taking care of you. she makes you feel like you are the center of her world, the most important person to her and she certainly knows how to make you feel that way with her dick too.

and because abby is abby, her dick is just as big as she is, in every aspect. it's long and it's thick, so much so that it still takes so much preparing for you to take it. but when she's sufficiently made you cum and opened you up with her fingers and pushes inside of you... it's like going to heaven, over and over again. sometimes, it feels like she consumes you whole with the way she clings onto you when she fucks you, like you will run away from her cock any minute. you have wondered more than once on what would happen if you did, if she would throw you back on the bed and make you take her cock. embarrassingly, you feel yourself clench at the thought and feel your wetness trickly out of you and down along abby's cock. you feel a sharp pinch at your hip and let yourself relax again, your mind feeling dizzy as she picks up her pace once more. you're crying and whining and moaning for her, like a desperate whore that can't do anything but let herself be split open by her girlfirend's monster cock.

you know that she's close, so close to giving you the final thing you want from her. she's given you her wonderfully big dick already but her cum filling you up is what you really need. you want her to breed you, want her to spill inside you and make your legs shake and cum just from the feeling of her cum flooding you. sometimes you wonder if you're insane for feeling like this.

"fuck, babygirl, gonna cum, gonna cum all inside you and paint your pretty walls with my cum. my good girl, doing so well for daddy. you don't wanna disappoint daddy, do you?" you shake your head vehemently at her question, your lower lip being bitten by your teeth and your thighs shake as you feel so close to your release. you feel one of abby's hands leave your hip and startle when you feel her fingers on your clit, rubbing furiously at it. she looks like she's mocking you and she probably is.

"then cum for daddy, my baby. let me breed you full like you want it." you let out a small scream as you convulse around her dick and at that moment, you feel hot cum shoot out of her dick and right into you. the feeling of this hot substance inside you makes your thighs trembly heavily and you moan out into your pillow as abby slowly fucks her cock inside you, spreading her cum on your walls. your eyes close from exhaustion and you lay your head on your pillow like you wanted to the whole time. abby leans down to your ear and whispers;

"go to sleep, baby. i'll fuck another load of cum into you in your sleep."

[paper-gold-theories]

Villainous Headcanon: It's Good to be Back Home

[Flug, walks into the Golden Rule Building and towards the help desk like no one's business]

Flug: Good morning, it's very important that I-

[Help Desk Attendant], not looking up from his newspaper: Yeah, yeah. Cool your jets and take a number. We're the Help Desk for The Golden Rule. Everything's important he-- DR.FLUG!?

[The Help Desk Attendant and several security guards all point their guns at Flug]

Flug, nonchalantly: No need to make a scene. I want you to contact The Golden Rule for me.

[Help Desk Attendant]: O-or else?

Flug: Oh, I don't know...[shrugs] "I'll destroy the world?" Is that sufficient?

-----

[Location: P.E.A.C.E. HQ]

[Golden Rule Member], enters the meeting room: GoldHeart, there's code red for you.

GoldHeart: Go on.

[Golden Rule Member], smirks: Guess who came back to town?

GoldHeart: Flug...

-----

Villainous Headcanon: Flug has this elaborate plan which involves him purposely getting captured by the Golden Rule.

I kinda imagine despite the media trying to portray Flug as a "dumb scientist" he's actually an extremely dangerous and intimidating Villain in his old city. to the point that they actually believe him when he said he threatened "to destroy the world".

Inspired from this Lex Luther scene from Justice League Crisis on Two Earths

Also continuing the clip, when the Justice League went to see Lex Luther, he was naked because they had to disarm him.

I kinda imagine when GoldHeart and the other Golden Rule Members went to the detainment center, GoldHeart was momentarily stunt locked and flustered that was Flug naked that he stuttered but tried to hide it behind a cough. 😆😂

[9800sblog]

keeho tarot reading

reputation in the kpop industry

in general

3 of pentacles, 4 of pentacles reversed, queen of wands reversed, knight of wands, bottom of the deck strength

he's really easy to work with, but holds back his energy a lot depending on the person he's around, you can easily tell his opinion about you, and that makes some people uncomfortable. he's very giving and doesn't care much about money, you can tell he does kpop out of love for something that's not money. he may have an important relationship which he doesn't show off but it's very noticeable specially for those that know him behind the cameras, he doesn't try to have a lot of self control, people just don't take him as someone trustworthy so they don't believe important informations about him. he doesn't need those people tho, he's a very confident and self-sufficient person. this guy is very creative and funny, charitable, doesn't care about proving that he's a good person to anyone who isn't the police.

closer idols

3 of cups, the hermit reversed, 8 of swords reversed, the fool reversed

he needs some meditation time, a soul searching, a "dude shut up", perhaps some time to self reflect. he can be very impulsive and not hide enough sometimes, not follow up with plans, he's truly a free spirit, you can try to shut him up, but if he's free in his head, you could tie him up and he'd still be walking around. in general, they seem to think he behaves a bit childish but it's fun, it's funny and light-hearted so they don't care. he's like annoying young brother who overestimates himself. also, there's a lot more to watch out for him, he's an interesting intelligent person, this is probably not what he wants to do for the rest of his life.

staff

7 of cups, 5 of cups, 7 of wands, bottom of the deck 4 of pentacles reversed

again, quite selective with his energy and ideas, he's very certain of the people he trusts and likes to work with, he may refuse to work with some people, and/or not go if so and so is behind the scenes. he's sure that many people like him as he is, and has many options so he doesn't worry about changing himself to fit in, he knows his audience and his community so he just comes in, does his job and maybe laugh with his friends, don't expect more from him. some staff are very intimidated by him and his friends, which is funny, they may wanna put him in his place but don't have the courage to address him at all.

female idols

10 of wands, knight of swords reversed, 9 of pentacles reversed, the fool, king of wands

this just some guy, I don't think they understand him, he seems very confusing for people, in general. honestly, they may know him as the extention of someone else/other people, maybe they never see him without a close person or his friend group. it doesn't seem like he's looking to add new stuff/people into his life, which some may interpret as if he's never open. but he's decent, and nice in general, may have a very silly reputation, like he doesn't take life very seriously, at all.

male idols

the magician reversed, 6 of cups reversed, 7 of swords, bottom of the deck the high priestess

he doesn't get enough credit, he may be the creator/the mind behind very loved media that he's not being recognized by, which is part of some sneaky plan he has. he's a good liar, lies for fun, maybe just to annoy people. again, being associated with specific people is very relevant.

[thewhumpcaretaker]

⚜ 𝕋𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕎𝕙𝕠 ℍ𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠 𝕃𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝔽𝕠𝕣 - ℂ𝕙. 𝕍𝕀: 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕤𝕥 𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝕠𝕗 𝕍𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕖𝕟𝕥'𝕤 𝕃𝕚𝕗𝕖 ⚜

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ ✧.*★ Thank you to @evren-sadwrn for the beta read!

Summary: How could this happen?

TW: abusive parenting, canon-typical violence, gore, graphic deaths, dissociation during a traumatic event, Dead Dove Do Not Eat

The worst day of Vincent’s life dawned beneath a rose red sun, foreboding enough to terrify sailors. Flames in the hills to the East had masked the sunrise in smoke. Mrs. Harkan had set fire to their trading storehouses, and perhaps it was Vincent’s imagination, strung out for almost a week now, but he could almost taste burning intoxicants on the wind. Meanwhile, the Marquis called for a constant watch that stretched the half-staffed Myrmidons all too thin, and spent every moment brainstorming retaliation. But Vincent couldn’t focus on the crisis.

Several days had passed since the sparring match, and each one had driven Vincent further into hidden madness. Life had returned more or less to normal in the Gramont estate. The servants maintained immaculately dusted furniture and extravagant feasts. The Myrmidons flanked the doorways or patrolled the grounds. The Marquis and the Comte attended business in their studies, respectively, and occasionally, one called upon the other. If there was any change, it was that Chidi no longer entertained any jabs from Fritz about the young master, and the young master did not seek him out. But Vincent was thinking constantly about how unimportant Chidi was to him.

He was prepared to go back to Rome without seeing Chidi again at all. He had liked every aspect of their encounter, perhaps their struggle over the letter most of all. But it was just fun, just him toying with the help. No, Chidi wasn’t important to him, he told himself. He thought constantly about how effectively he was ignoring Chidi, whether Chidi was sufficiently intimidated by him, how amusing it would be to see Chidi grow more attached to him, whether Chidi thought about him at night, whether Chidi thought of him as commanding, attractive, cool – Chidi, Chidi, Chidi. When he dressed for the day, all in white with red accents along his lapel, it was with the knowledge that he would, at some point, pass Chidi in the hall. And when he did, he would not even look at him, to convey that he didn’t care in the slightest whether they ever slept together again.

And Chidi’s gaze answered “Vincent, Vincent, Vincent” in exaltation. He looked at him, just as he was supposed to, as if he had to restrain his hands at his sides, with a longing beyond hunger. He could do nothing more obvious than that, but it was enough.

Vincent passed him on the way to speak to his father about the storehouses at around 11 o’clock that morning. It was just the usual: being belittled, being blamed for everything. It was his fault that the mission to Germany had been botched in the first place. If he hadn’t acted out of turn in Italy, Àlderic wouldn’t have had to punish him by going alone in secret. He always ruined everything, etc. He just stuffed down the misery in his chest and waited for it to be over.

A hand brushed against his on the way out. Chidi’s hand. A tingle of something soft and hot and electrified sent a shiver through him, deep in the spine, and he stopped, their eyes locked together. Sheer need suddenly overcame him and he pulled Chidi by the sleeve into the adjoining parlor, closing the door behind them. It was empty. “Vous êtes audacieux aujourd’hui. [You’re bold today],” he whispered.

“Est-ce une mauvaise chose? [Is that a bad thing?]”

“Non.” He ran his tongue along his lips and tilted his head expectantly to the side until Chidi kissed him - hurried, sloppy, but a rush of air into his lungs. Like breathing again for the first time since the day of the fencing match. How did he ever breathe before meeting Chidi?

He pulled away, still cradling the back of Vincent’s head by a fistful of hair. “Monsieur,” he whispered, “s'il te plaît, ne crois pas ce qu'il dit de toi. Il ment. Vous êtes une personne extraordinaire. [please don’t believe what he says about you. He’s lying. You’re an extraordinary person.]”

He suddenly felt very lost and small and wonderful all at once. “Ce n’est pas à toi de traiter mon père de menteur. Vous n’auriez même pas dû écouter. [That’s…that’s not your place, to call my father a liar. You shouldn’t even have been listening.]” But there was no bite in his voice. It was too much, with Chidi’s hand in his hair and his sweet musk all over Vincent’s mouth and these overwhelming words. He wanted to cry so badly.

“Franchement, je m'en fiche, monsieur. Je n'aime pas la façon dont il te traite. [Frankly, I don’t care, sir. I don’t like the way he treats you.]”

A wild rush. His hand clenched and unclenched on the fabric of Chidi’s suit coat. He felt full to bursting with a longing that stung behind his eyes and fluttered at his ribcage, a longing to kiss Chidi again, but also to run away from this confusion, this…deep, ancient upset that had been so rudely unearthed. It felt awful. The world was getting messed up again, the same way it did when he held that rose petal. And he wasn’t ready, couldn’t possibly face it. He swiped Chidi’s caress away from his head and took a step back.

“Ne parlez pas de lui de cette façon. Vous ne comprendriez pas. L’estime de mon père est accordée à ceux qui la méritent. On s’attend donc à ce que je mérite cette estime. C’est plus raisonnable que ce qui se passe entre la plupart des parents et des enfants. Il ne m’a jamais dorloté. Il est strict avec moi parce qu’il sait que je peux le supporter. Je ne suis pas un enfant pathétique et blessé. [Don’t speak of him that way. You wouldn’t understand. My father’s esteem is given to those who deserve it. So I am expected to earn that esteem. It’s more sensible than what happens between most parents and children. He’s never coddled me. He’s strict with me because he knows I can take it. I’m not some pathetic, wounded child.]” But the raw, affronted tone of his voice made him sound exactly like that. He didn’t know whether he was trying to convince his lover or himself.

Chidi looked at him with such pity that he left the room at once, feeling worse than when he entered…yet much more alive.

Vincent ached inside for the rest of the day. He kept mostly to his room through the afternoon, but he could not be absent for dinner, and afterwards, he wandered listlessly through the gardens, the stables, the ground floor. Evening was falling, and the majority of the Myrmadons were meeting with Eric and the Marquis to discuss the burned storehouses, so he could walk the grounds without fear of meeting Chidi and seeing that awful sympathy again. Eventually, he settled in the ballroom at the piano, playing by the dusky blue afterglow of sunset and the light of a candelabra. There was no one around to light the chandelier. He’d rather keep it that way.

He was settling into a particularly melancholy piece when he heard a bang.

It was muffled by a silencer (a pretty poor one), but he would know it anywhere. And the guards didn’t use silencers.

Had his piano playing given away his location? He went instantly still. A Chopin nocturne was replaced by the ominous echo of the chapel bell, sounding an alarm. For a long moment, the world held its breath, and then another two gunshots rang out from the opposite direction, even closer to the ballroom. Why was there no answering shot from the guards? There were at least three who weren’t in that meeting - he’d passed them in the garden. Had they been killed on sight?

More gunshots, servants running. He wasn’t fully armed, he remembered. He left his sword in his room, not expecting to need it, so he had only his knife – which he drew. No one knew where he was. He should go find them. He should find Chidi. Yes. Everything would be okay…

He rose to find a man standing in the doorway. By the ace card pinned on his lapel, he was from Himmel und Hölle, most likely a surviving bodyguard. They just looked at each other. Neither of them moved.

Vincent dodged suddenly left on instinct, a second before the man fired. He kept firing. Vincent ducked behind the piano and discordant notes clashed together through the empty vaults of the ceiling as gunfire rained down on its keys. He glanced behind him and saw only a vast expanse without cover. The man stopped long enough to call to someone else and then there were two of them, maybe more. Adrenaline hit, but it was not the thrilling adrenaline of his assassinations in Rome, it was something paralyzing with dread. Something about this whole situation was so wrong. They should never have gotten inside the house. These things happened all the time, but they were never this out-of-control. He huddled against the back of the piano, his palm clammy around the knife, trembling wildly.

Footsteps advanced towards the piano, and then (finally) full-volume gunshots added their notes to the cacophony. One man hit the ground, while the other gave way to the grunts and shouts of wrestling, pained enough that whoever had come for him must already have been badly injured on the way. He dared to peek out. Eric was being battered around the head with the butt of a machine gun.

But that meant the attacker’s back was exposed. Vincent took his chance, threw his arms around his shoulders and slit his throat from behind. Blood gushed out of his jugular onto Eric’s broken face below, already an unrecognizable mass of crushed bone. He had to look away to steady the wave of revulsion. Suddenly he was ten thousand times more terrified. The head of the Myrmidons was dead. And why was he sent alone? Where were the others?

Swallowing his disgust, he snatched the earpiece and mic off the thing that used to be Eric’s head. “Votre imbécile de leader est mort dans la salle de bal. Couvrez ma position MAINTENANT. Qu'est-ce que cela veut dire? [Your fool of a leader is dead in the ballroom. Cover my location NOW. What is the meaning of this?]” There were more footsteps in the distance. He didn’t wait for an answer to throw the ballroom doors closed and start pushing the ruined piano against them.

Chidi opened a channel, and through it he could hear commotion. “Monsieur, nous sommes occupés dans le bureau de votre père. Leur nombre était très grand. Il reste trois d'entre nous. Mais je vais essayer de vous joindre. Mme Harkan – [Sir, we are occupied in your father’s study. Their numbers were very great. Three of us remain. But I will try to get to you. Mrs. Harkan - ]”

Àlderic’s voice cut through. He sounded more desperate than Vincent had ever heard him. “Non, vous ne le ferez pas ! Personne ne me quitte. Je tuerai ta sœur de mes propres mains si tu me quittes maintenant, Chidi. Ou était-ce ton frère ? Cela ne m'importe pas, si quelqu'un part, vous paierez ! [No you won’t! No one leaves my side. I’ll kill your sister with my own hands if you leave me now, Chidi. Or was it your brother? It doesn’t matter to me, if anyone leaves, you’ll pay!]” Back in the ballroom, something struck the door with great force.

Vincent couldn’t understand at first. “Comment ça, personne ne part !? Je ne suis toujours pas surveillé, non ? Tu ne réfléchis pas, père. [What do you mean no one leaves!? I am still unguarded, no? You’re not thinking, father.]”

Chidi opened the channel again but struggled for words. “… Là… nous ne sommes plus que trois. Il y en avait trop et ils sont compétents. Votre père souhaite que nous restions avec lui jusqu'à ce qu'il s'échappe du bâtiment. S'il vous plaît, tenez bon, monsieur. S'il vous plaît, cachez-vous.  […There…there are only three of us left. There were too many, and they are skilled. It is your father’s wish that we remain with him until he escapes the building. Please hold out, sir. Please hide.]”

“Non, il ne comprend pas ! J’ai barricadé la salle de bal, mais ils persistent. Je – je ne peux pas – ça ne tiendra pas – [No, he doesn’t understand! I barricaded the ballroom, but they’re fucking persistent. I – I can’t – it won’t hold – ]“ He backed away from the door, watching it shake under a constant battering. He was starting to hyperventilate.

Chidi was speaking, something about staying calm, but it died in a grenade blast, and for a second, Vincent thought he did too. He had doubled over in terror, deafened, with shrapnel buried in the arms that had darted up instinctively to cover his face. There was a hole torn wide open in the door and the piano alike. On the other side was a woman.

She looked haggard, as if she hadn’t slept in days, but extremely triumphant. “C'est dommage [It’s a shame],” she said, in a thick German accent, “que ton père ne soit plus marié. Un conjoint pour conjoint, voyez-vous, aurait été idéal. Mais je prendrai son fils en échange de mon mari, de tout ce qu’il possède et de sa vie. C'est presque comme même. [that your father is no longer married. A spouse for a spouse, you see, would have been ideal. But I’ll take his son in exchange for my husband, plus everything he has, plus his life. That’s almost like even.]”

Chidi could still hear everything, he realized. “Monsieur, combattez ! Vous devez supposer que personne ne viendra vous chercher. [Sir, fight! You must assume no one is coming for you.]”

No one is coming for you. That could not be. The sinking feeling it produced in his stomach was too great. If he believed it, hell would open up right underneath him like a sinkhole. “NON! Venir me chercher! Vous m'entendez? Viens… [NO! Come get me! Do you hear me? Come…]” His father would send someone, someone would come…

The barrage of gunfire went on on the other end of the line. Meanwhile, the woman began advancing towards him. “Oh, tu parles à quelqu'un, n'est-ce pas ? Entendez-vous cela, Marquis ? Je veux que tu entendes ton fils crier. [Oh, you’re talking to someone, aren’t you? Can you hear this, Marquis? I want you to hear your son scream.]” And she fired a shot into his thigh.

He did scream. He collapsed to the ground with his hands pressed around the bullet wound that had torn clean through the muscle and was now pouring crimson waterfalls from both sides, a horrible slick thing that flowed down his leg to the ankle, so much of it, coating his hands… Immediately, everything went cold and distant. When she shot him a second time, he barely felt it, just noticed more wetness pooling out, across his shoulder this time, over his chest. Strange analogies went through his mind as it tried to cope – he was just covered in honey, he was just stepping into a pool full of water…

He was wailing in agony,

There was a choked sound on the other end of the line and for a second, the Comte hoped it might be tears on his behalf. But no. The Marquis was…he was laughing. He sounded unhinged, raving, on the verge of either history-making or collapse. “Vincent, dis-lui que je m'en fiche. Sa précieuse vengeance ne veut rien dire. Très bien, elle peut te prendre, elle peut tout prendre. Je vais le récupérer. Je récupérerai tout tant que je serai en vie. Je sais ce qui compte ! Je sais ce qui rend un homme formidable ! [Vincent, tell her I don’t care. Her precious revenge means nothing. Fine, she can take you, she can take everything. I’ll get it back. I’ll get it all back as long as I’m alive. I know what matters! I know what makes a man great!]”

Oh. “Est-ce… est-ce que c'est… [Is…is that…]” Vincent could feel something inside of him snap in half and loll around in hideous pain, the way a broken bone might do. His heart, maybe that was what it was. Real heartbreak. Is that really how it is? How it’s always been? The look on his face must have given him away because she stopped and surveyed him quizzically.

Then she fired again.

Through the haze of both physical and emotional pain, he heard Chidi’s final effort. “Monsieur, votre fils est en train de mourir! [Sir, your son is dying!]”

“LAISSEZ-LE ! J'AI DIT LAISSEZ-LE ! JE SUIS SEUL VOTRE MAÎTRE ! [LEAVE HIM! I SAID LEAVE HIM! I ALONE AM YOUR MASTER!]”

If there was any doubt before, now there was none. Vincent gave himself entirely to hatred in that moment. No one is coming. Fine them. I’ll come for him instead. I’ll fucking kill him for this. He twisted the broken thing around inside his mind until it became a weapon. Somehow, screaming, he forced his legs to unbend beneath him and lurched forward onto Mrs. Harkan, driving his blade into her side, stabbing wildly anywhere he could. But then she fired yet another shot, somewhere between his ribs, and he was doubled over, drowning on his own blood, watching it flow out of his mouth onto the floor…this was it. God. He was really dying. Not this way, betrayed and humiliated and completely fucking alone. Please…

And then suddenly there was a shower of blood across his face. Gun splatter. Mrs. Harkan’s eyes rolled back in her head and she sunk to ground, lifeless, exploded by Chidi’s wrath. “Chidi…” Vincent took a shaky step towards him before his legs went totally numb, and great, strong arms caught him on the way down, lifted a limp body in his arms. Chidi felt so warm. Every limb was ice, and they wouldn’t unfreeze, but at least there was something warm beyond them. Chidi’s hands were touching him through miles of cotton, and he wanted them closer, wanted them to really reach him. As if in answer, Chidi pulled him against his chest and sobbed.

“ Je suis vraiment désolé de ne pas être venu plus tôt, monsieur. Je suis vraiment désolé. C'est juste que… je ne pouvais pas sauver tout le monde. Tout ira bien, d'accord ? Tout ira bien. [I’m so sorry I didn’t come sooner, sir. I’m so sorry. I just…I couldn’t save everyone. You’ll be okay, alright? You’ll be okay.]”

“Bien sur. Tu es venu pour moi. J'ai juste... si froid... [Of course I will. You came for me. I’m just…so cold…]” Through the doorway, in the mirrors that lined the hall outside, he saw a sight he would never forget. He was drenched, like a newborn, in his attackers’ blood and his own, just a demonic red thing, wet and marbled and broken and crying like he was trying to breathe air for the first time.

It was then, looking at this unrecognizable fetus in Chidi’s arms, that a voice came through the earpiece. “Le Marquis est à terre. Évacuer. Je le répète, le marquis est à terre. [The Marquis is down. Evacuate. I repeat, the Marquis is down.]”

“Chi-Chidi ? Qu'est-ce que cela signifie? [Chi-Chidi? What does that mean?]” He was shaking so much his teeth chattered. “RÉPONDS-MOI! Qu'est-ce que ça veut dire, « Le Marquis est… » [ANSWER ME! What does that mean, ‘The Marquis is…’]”

“Il est mort, monsieur. Je suis vraiment désolé. [He is dead, sir. I’m so sorry.]” His voice was a whisper, still soaked with tears. They were moving, suddenly, towards the exits, out to some waiting car, but no, they couldn’t be moving, he wasn’t ready, wasn’t done.

“Non, ce n'est pas ce que cela signifie. Cela ne peut pas être ce que cela signifie. [No, that’s not what it means. That can’t be what it means.]”

“…D’accord,” said Chidi, with profound sadness. “Alors ne nous préoccupons pas de ce que cela signifie. Tout ira bien monsieur. Je t'ai. Je ne laisserai personne te faire du mal. [Then let’s not worry about what it means. It’s going to be okay sir. I have you. I won’t let anyone hurt you.]”

I have you…I won’t let anyone hurt you… a flicker of joy bled through the ongoing trauma. But Vincent was still stuck. “Ce n’est pas ce que cela signifie ! Ce n’est pas le cas, il ne peut pas être mort, parce que… parce que je ne l’ai pas encore tué ! Àlderic… Àlderic, salaud ! Tu n'es pas mon père ! Tu m'as laissé mourir ! Tu me détestes vraiment à ce point ? JE VAIS TE TUER! [That’s not what it means! It’s not, he can’t be dead, because…because I haven’t killed him yet! Àlderic…Àlderic you bastard! You’re not my father! You left me to die! You really hate me that much? I’LL KILL YOU!]” The hands beneath him just held him tighter. He was going hoarse. He struggled against whoever was holding him, too delirious to know who it was for certain. All he knew was that it was just the sort of warm masculine presence that he had not felt in some decade or more, not since he was carried to bed as a child. Where had that presence been for so long? Why had it left him alone? He loved it and he hated it and he wanted it to fucking explain itself. He tried to beat the arms that were holding him, but he couldn’t tell whether he was moving or not. He couldn’t tell if his body was responding to him and he couldn’t tell what was real, what was happening, whether he was alive or dead. There was blood seeping into his eyes, a layer of red over the world. And then a layer of black.

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[oraclekleo]

Soyeon ((G)I-DLE) - Kinky Tarot Reading

Disclaimer:

All celebrity readings have purely entertainment nature

I don’t know any of the celebrities personally

Don’t base life decisions purely on tarot readings

I can never guarantee any of what’s said in the reading

Feedback: Feedback is very important for content creators and for me it’s even more important. Please, let me know whether the tarot readings resonate. If there’s anything you dislike or find off about my readings (like wording, topics, focus), just tell me. I don’t want you to write 1000-word feedback, very simple comments will do for me to stay motivated. I don’t know why I have to keep repeating this but this is something I do for you, guys, and when I don’t feel motivated to do tarot readings, I have many other things to do. The more motivation I get, the more readings you will get to read. The logic is very simple but it’s two sided.

Reading Info:

Rating: 18+

Reading Type: Single - Couple

Requested: Yes - No

Requester: /

Deck(s): Dark Wood Tarot

Spread: Kinky Reading

Questions:

Position

Libido

Turn On

Kink

Dirty Secret

Celebrity Info:

Full Name: Jeon Soyeon (전소연)

Stage Name: Soyeon (소연)

Group: (G)I-DLE ((여자)아이들)

DOB: 26.08.1998

Blood Type: B

MBTI: INTJ

Sun Sign: Virgo

Chinese Sign: Earth Tiger

Life Path Number: 7

Masterpost: (G)I-DLE

Soyeon ((G)I-DLE) - Kinky

Full Name: Jeon Soyeon (전소연) Stage Name: Soyeon (소연) Group: (G)I-DLE ((여자)아이들) DOB: 26.08.1998 Blood Type: B MBTI: INTJ Sun Sign: Virgo Chinese Sign: Earth Tiger Life Path Number: 7

Spread / Question: Kinky Reading Deck(s): Dark Wood Tarot

Position - IV The Emperor, 9 of Pentacles

Well… We can hardly find any more dominant card than the Emperor. Soyeon is a well-organised, methodical and self-sufficient person. She’s not exactly unhappy when she’s not in a relationship. She’s not looking for her other half, because she’s not a half. She is likely to have high expectations of people in general and those can sky rocket when it comes to her lover-partner. Soyeon is not the type to settle for less just to be in a relationship. She’s more likely to either stay alone or to find her perfect match. There’s no compromise in this area for her. She can very well manage her own life and provide for herself, she’s not looking for a partner she would need in some way, she’s looking for a partner she would WANT in her life. There’s a big difference between need and want.

Libido - III The Empress, 3 of Cups

While Soyeon might seem strict and slightly intimidating on the outside and on the stage, she’s actually a very sensual and lustful woman. She’s likely very feminine and gorgeous in private, and likes to feel comfortable and beautiful. Soyeon is likely to be very sensitive to touch and skinship but she might not allow it to just anybody. Once again, she’s got standards and boundaries firmly set and those who are allowed into her inner circles can be truly surprised how truly loving and sexy she can become when she’s in the right mood. I think she’s very well connected with her emotions and she’s likely to have her ‘dry moods’ and ‘thirsty moods’. It’s either she’s really focused and busy or she drops everything and gives her full attention to her lover. She’s not really the type to be in the middle of a project and give in to her lover's pleas and go for a quickie. Her lover gotta be a patient person, respecting her cycles of activities.

Turn On - 8 of Swords, 7 of Wands

Soyeon is more likely to feel attracted to more submissive types of lovers who will respect her as a leader and won’t exactly get on her nerves constantly. She’s not into mindless puppets either, though, they should be able to take care of themselves because she’s a busy woman and the last thing she needs is a lover part timing as her baby. She might have a thing for in some way damaged people, insecure or healing their traumas as her nature is to help others. She’s not exactly a babysitter type but she likes to provide for people in need and help them to recover and get rid of their mental shackles and chase away their inner demons.

Kink - VIII Strength, Knight of Cups

As mentioned before, Soyeon can actually become very romantic and sensual when she’s with the right person and in the right mood. She’s likely to have a thing for a classic romance spiced up with mutual respect and understanding. She’s more likely to run the show and be on top but she’s not the type to boss her lover into that position. She’s more into gently guiding them and next thing they know is Soyeon sitting on them and riding them first slowly and with patience but increasing the tempo as she can sense the timings very well. She might even have a thing for pleasuring her lover without her satisfying her own needs. She’s a very patient type of person and even in her sex life, she’s got long term goals. She’s more likely to find herself a slightly cracked lover and slowly grooming and training him into her own type of Prince Charming.

Dirty Secret - VI The Lovers, X The Wheel of Fortune

Just notice how many Major Arcana cards Soyeon actually has in her reading. That woman has a powerful character. When it comes to her dirty secret, Soyeon is likely to be searching for a partner for life. She wants a lover who will stay, loyal, loving, faithful and adoring her. On the other hand, she’s not afraid to search for that person actively and she knows she might need to kiss many trolls before finding her handsome hunk (or gorgeous girl). She’s not exactly the type to just sit and wait for her knight in shining armour, she’s gonna wear it herself and probably rescue her fallen angel.

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[lilacella]

I've got 99 problems, would you like to be one?

Ao3

Chapter 4: Ministry Mingling

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"Ah, I don't know if that's a good idea," Sirius thoughtfully rolled the pen between his palms, barely looking up from his crossword. "I wouldn't want to turn you into a mascot. That would be inhumane, wouldn't it?"

Remus took a steadying breath. He had been prepared for this. He'd expected Sirius to rub his past statements in his face, as soon as he opened his mouth about wanting to accompany the board members on their trip to the ministry to discuss potential legal changes.

Sirius had actually been serious [A/N: ha ha] about wanting to tackle the law about lycanthropic minors next. The board had quickly agreed:

Acacia hadn't needed much convincing and Aisling and Gilford seemed to be easily enraged at any legal unfairness. Renfred - the only one of the members that still worked for the ministry - had organized a meeting with one of the ministers for this thursday. And Remus wanted to come along. This was an important matter after all.

He had spent the past two weeks thinking about it - about how it could be a great chance to get some funding to extend the housing project. Maybe even found an entirely new one, to offer a home to at least some affected children, offer courses for fearful parents...he had so many ideas. And while he trusted Sirius to do all that was necessary...he wanted to pitch this himself. Just sitting around and watching the association doing all the work seemed wrong. Maybe Sirius had been right, he had been resting on his privilege...

"You said, you needed a representative."

"Hmm yes, but I don't know if you are such a good fit, after all. Since you seem to think that all we do is pointless..."

"Sirius..."

Sirius looked up and Remus saw that he was just teasing him. He relaxed a little.

"Sure you can come. But the legislative meetings can get a little...heated sometimes. And the moon is close. Are you sure you're up for it?"

For a second, Remus was surprised that Sirius remembered when the moon was, before he remembered where he was. Of course Sirius knew. They were probably already preparing for it.

"I'll be fine."

Sirius raised an eyebrow.

"And you want me to believe you, when you say that, huh?"

Remus sighed and leaned against the reception desk.

"I'll be alright for it. I'm usually relatively fine before the moon. It's the after that really kicks." He gave Sirius a pressed smile.

Sirius looked up to him trough his lashes and for a second Remus' breath hitched just from the sight of it. He wasn't used to this angle, with Sirius being a good four inches taller.

"Fine then. I'll get you some robes. They can be a little touchy with the dresscode over there." Sirius pulled a face at the thought.

Remus had been a little concerened about the robe thing. He didn't want to feel like he was wearing a costume. Like a mascot...

But Sirius had apparently already noticed Remus' preference for earth colored, subdued clothes. The robes he had gotten him were a dark maroon color, lined with an ochre and brown glencheck. And they had a sufficient amout of pockets! Remus was positively surprised how well they fit him.

What he really should have been concerned about, were Sirius' robes.

Remus had forgotten how good Sirius looked in traditional wizard attire. Not that he didn't look good in his usual jeans and t-shirt combination, but the black robes with the dark blue shirt underneath, his silky waves falling gracefully over his shoulders - it gave him an entirely different appeal. Elegant, sleek, intimidating. Unbearably attractive...

With mild amusement, he noticed that Sirius hadn't bothered to remove any of his piercings though, and his clunky boots were peaking out underneath the hem of his cloak, like an understated fuck you to the establishment.

"Ready to go?" Sirius asked impatiently, already hovering near the entrance door.

Remus threw a look to Acacia sitting at the reception desk with Olivia on her lap.

"You won't come with us?"

Acacia shook her head.

"I can't bear all the fighting. And besides that, someone needs to stay here. Especially now, that we've got Olivia." She smiled fondly and brushed her hand over the girl's hair.

"We could have really needed you today, though. Considering what this meeting is about..."

"I know, Sirius. But especially because of that, I'd rather sit this one out. I'm sure you understand."

Sirius sighed and nodded, but didn't really look like he did. "Let's go then, mister token werewolf. We will be late."

Remus waved his goodbyes to Olivia and followed Sirius outside. He was starting to get a little nervous.

"We won't take the atrocious machine there though, won't we?"

"No, much to my regret, we won't. We are already late, so apparation it is." Sirius sighed again. "You know the way?"

Remus nodded and Sirius vanished with a gentle fizz.

Remus took a brief look around to check if anyone was watching before he did the same.

"You are late," Gilford scolded them and gave Remus a look that left no doubt that he didn't share Sirius' conviction that Remus was a perfect representative.

Sirius rolled his eyes.

"We aren't late, Gilford. We've got two minutes to spare."

"Ah, you know him Sirius. If he doesn't arrive at least ten minutes early, he feels like he's late." Aisling eyed Remus as well. "Nice robe."

Remus akwardly plucked on his collar. "Thank you."

Gilford huffed. "Can we go inside then? I'm sure Renfred awaits us already."

He did not wait for an answer and began striding towards the large entrance door of the ministry building. Sirius let out an annoyed breath.

Remus felt like this might be a long day.

Renfred was the only board member that Remus hadn't met yet. He wasn't a very hands on person, as Sirius had said, and mostly supported the association by organising ministry meetings and preparing their propositions.

Now, the chubby man was clutching a folder to his chest and waved at them with an anxious smile.

"There you are! It's good go see you. You must be Remus." He outstretched his hand with a genuine smile. "Glad to have you onboard." He chuckled at his own pun.

"Renfred, how is it going? What room are we in?" Sirius asked and went in for a hug.

They seemed close. Remus felt an inexplicable pinch of jealousy.

"The small meeting room on the sixth floor again. But minister Fleeby won't be here until half past, so we still have got some time."

Sirius threw Gilford a look that he answered with a snarl.

"I will go upstairs and prepare, then. No need to waste any time!" He turned on his heels and clicked towards the elevators.

Renfred sighed and wiped his forehead with his handkerchief. He shared a tortured smile with Aisling.

"Acacia isn't coming today?"

"No, she said the topic is a bit much for her...You know, because of Ebony."

Renfred nodded gravely. "Yes, yes, terrible story." He looked over to Sirius and Remus. "Shall we go up as well?"

"Uh," Remus interjected. He really didn't feel like being trapped between one of Gilford's and Sirius' fights again. "You two can go up, but I think maybe we should keep these two apart until the meeting?" He gestured between Sirius and the elevators Gilford had vanished in.

Aisling and Renfred met his suggestion with a vigorous nod and Sirius, eventhough he seemed a little sour about Remus' comment, stayed behind with him when the other two made their way upstairs.

"I'm not even that bad..."

"You two are awful! Everytime it's his shift and you are around..."

"That's hardly my fault! He's just such a stuck up idiot..."

"You could have asked him, before installing the cat flap..."

"You only say that because you are still salty that we are keeping Kitty."

Remus sighed. "Now we are fighting. That wasn't what I wanted to achieve with this..."

Sirius unfolded his crossed arms and looked a little confounded.

"I...We weren't fighting...I mean this is hardly the same than with Gilford..."

The sudden softness of Sirius' voice made Remus' chest feel tight with fondness and he had to fight the urge to reach out to cup his frowning face.

"Oh, no..I don't think...I mean, we don't really fight right? We are just arguing. Doesn't mean that we are actually mad, right? At least I don't..."

Sirius shook his head. "No, it's just banter. Means we like each other." He winked.

Remus chuckled, desperately trying to ignore his skipping heartbeat, and lightly nudged Sirius' shoulder. "So, what should we do now? Want to show me around a little?"

Remus wasn't particularly fond of the ministry building. The times he had been here had always been tied to his lycanthropy: Initial registration, followed by yearly dental casts until the age of seventeen to identify bite patters, quater monthly mandatory confirmation of address...Remus didn't want to think about whether Olivia would have to do all of that as well. He secretly hoped that Sirius would make sure that she wouldn't.

Even this time, dressed appropriately and clearly not identifiable as what he was, people were throwing him dirty looks. He wondered if it might be, because he was walking around with a known member of a werewolf association, who also happened to make a great deal out of aggressively glaring at everyone who as much as quirked their eyebrow at Remus.

It was an odd feeling, having Sirius by his side. Remus was somewhat used to people staring. As a kid it had been because he was weird. His parents keeping him away from other children for the majority of his childhood had equipped him with a limited set of social skills and it showed.

When he was older it had been because he was a prefect. A technical authority, while still looking like a scarecrow that had no friends and people took notice.

When his life had fallen apart after school, it had been because of his deteriorated appearance and shabby clothes.

Remus was used to people staring at him, but he wasn't used to have someone by his side that made him feel like he didn't care. Accompanied by a herd protection dog. Oddly safe and looked after.

He wondered whether that was the reason Peter had always stuck with Sirius...

They made their way though the long corridors, while Sirius occasionally pointed at something, giving Remus a half-hearted tour.

"There really isn't much to see here except meglomaniac architecture and the prodigal sons of the rich families...

"Talking about me, Butterfly?"

The voice made Remus turn around with a frown. Behind them stood a tall man with long white-blonde hair and a cane with a snake head. What business did this guy have to call Sirius that?!

Sirius seemed to be asking himself the same question and looked thoroughly pissed off.

"Malfoy," he spat. "What do you want?"

Malfoy laughed arrogantly.

"I work here. Unlike you, if my memory doesn't betray me." He smiled but it didn't reach his eyes, before mustering Remus with a derogatory look. "And neither does this peculiar person. I would have noticed."

He lifted his cane up to Remus' chin. Sirius slapped it away harshly.

"Do you have an urgent deathwish?"

Malfoy looked a bit taken aback.

"Keep your fucking wand away from him!"

The man raised an eyebrow but lowered his cane and leaned back a bit.

"Fiery as I remember you." He smirked in a way that made Remus' stomach turn. What was going on here? Maybe it was a family thing? It didn't really feel like it.

Sirius fixated Malfoy with a bone piercing glare. "You don't remember shit," he spat. "Now get out of the way. Don't you have things to do at your super important job?"

Malfoy clicked his tounge and gave Sirius one last inquisitive look.

"You have lowered your standards, Black."

Then he turned and strode away.

When Malfoy had vanished around a corner, Sirius let out a breath.

"Fucking bastard..."

"You know him?"

Sirius just scoffed. Remus drew his conclusions.

"Does he really keep his wand inside a cane? That's a way to be dramatic..."

"It's 18 inches. How else would he carry it around?"

"18 inches?!"

"Yep. The man has things to compensate for. Trust me, I know..."

Remus would have preferred not to think about what that implied and Sirius looked like he regretted his words immediately, as he pressed his lips into a tight line and increased the speed of his steps.

When Sirius and Remus took their seats at the meeting room at the sixth floor, Gilford was already throwing them impatient glances again. Minister Fleeby, a haggard man with a pointy nose and watery blue eyes sat accross them and eyed Remus with suspicion.

"And this is the..."

"The representative, Sir. Remus Lupin. Pleased to meet you," Remus cut the man off before he could say a word that might make Sirius jump at his throat.

"The representative..." Fleeby repeated slowly. "Aha Aha. Interesting choice for the board, Mr. Coax." He looked over to Renfred who already wiped his forehead again.

"Interesting?! Do you care to elaborate?" Sirius hissed and Remus could see how the other members immediately ducked their heads a little at the imminent explosion.

Fleeby seemed to be rather oblivious to the dangerous path he was treading.

"I just wondered whether it is really necessary to bring in someone like this. He is hardly going to be objective. Of course, a werewolf would use his manipulative tactics to..."

"I assure you, i have no intention of manipulation, Sir. I merely would like to offer some perspective," Remus said quickly, not giving Sirius the chance to say anything back that surely wasn't going to help their negotiations. He could basically feel him seething next to him.

"Aha Aha," said Fleeby, his scepticism still apparent.

"Shall we begin?" Gilford asked and slammed the underside of his stack of papers on the table top.

As a way to open the negotiations, Renfred had prepared a run-trough of the current law regarding minors affected by lycanthropy:

A parent of a child under the legal age of 17 that has been bitten by a cursed creature and hence has been infected with lycanthropy, shall bear no further duty of care for their offspring since it cannot be further viewed as the same entity under the law.

A child under the legal age of 17 that has been bitten by a cursed creature and hence has been infected with lycanthropy, and takes measures to hide its condition from its parents in order to obtain the former caregivers care and financial means by fraud, can be punished according to paragraph 713 article 12 "Malicious Magical Fraud and Imposture".

A child under the legal age of 17 that has been bitten by a cursed creature and hence has been infected with lycanthropy, is henceforth uneligible for any ministry provided stipend or program.

A child under the legal age of 17 that has been bitten by a cursed creature and hence has been infected with lycanthropy,...

It seemed to be a never ending list of unfairness and Remus had to admit that he hadn't been aware of a few of the paragraphs. Thankfully, they had never been relevant for him...

Mr. Fleeby, however was nodding along in agreement, with every paragraph that Renfred reiterated in a pained tone. When he had ended, the minister propped his elbows up on the table and leaned his fingertips together.

"Aha Aha. And you all wish to...overturn these laws for which reason, exactly?"

"Oh boy, here we go again." Remus heard Aisling muble under her breath. When he followed her gaze, he saw that Sirius' fingertips, tightly pressed onto the wooden tabletops, were smoking. Or rather the table was smoking, as Sirius' fingers burnt holes into the surface.

He nudged him in shock.

"Stop that!" he hissed.

Sirius looked over in confusion, then down to his hands and flinched.

"Oh bloody hell.." He rubbed his palms over the small craters almost apologetically, vanishing them with surprsing ease.

Remus had to admit he was a little impressed. He knew Sirius was quite proficient in non-wand magic - he'd seen him often enough, opening a locked door just by tapping the lock with his fingers, not even bothering to pull out his wand for the Alohomora. Still...

Sirius had been right. They really need him for the board.

Thankfully, Fleeby seemed to still be too focused on Renfred to notice the vandalism. Now, Gilford jumped into action and passed the minister his stack of papers.

"I have prepared an essay detailing the issues that each of these paragraphs cause. I encourage you to read it thoroughly, however I am aware of the brevity of our meeting time and shall hence give you a quick overview." Gilford stood up from his chair and proceeded to read.

Mr. Fleeby watched him like an adult would watch a child demanding dessert after every meal.

"Aha Aha," said Fleeby said, finally. "I have got to admit that your statements have made me thoughtful. I will ponder upon this matter and eventually will get back to you when..."

"What is there to ponder?" Sirius' sharp voice made Fleeby's head turn around in surprise. "We don't have time for your pondering, this law needs to go now!"

"Aha Aha. Well, Mr. Black while I admire your enthusiasm for the cursed, these rules have been created for a good reason and we can't..."

"Good reason?! What fucking good reason is there to give parents the permission to abandon their child in the woods?" Sirius had jumped out of his chair and slammed his hands on the table.

Fleeby resiled.

"Mr Black! In this tone..."

Remus grabbed Sirius' shoulder and pulled him back. "Sirius! Sit back down!"

Sirius threw him a furious look but sank back into his chair.

Gilford, Renfred and Aisling looked at Remus with wide eyes. He didn't have time to think much about the meaning of their puzzled faces, however. This was his last chance to get anything useful across.

"Mr. Fleeby, I'm sorry for the agitation, this is an emotional topic."

He heard Sirius' click his tounge in anger. He was going to screw his head off later. But that was later. Now was now.

"But he is right. We sadly do not have the time to wait until legislation can be changed. The lifes of innocent children are on the line."

Fleeby pursed his lips.

"Innocent is your interpretation. Obviously you would see it that way. And as tragic the fates of some individuals may appear, we can hardly force parents to continue to take care of a dark creature!"

Remus could feel Sirius' knee bouncing under the table. His chin was resting on his folded hands and he still glared with unhidden fury at the minister.

Without thinking, Remus put his hand on Sirius' knee under the table. It stilled immediately.

Remus took a breath to steady himself. As much as he wanted to blow up just like Sirius probably would like to, this situation required some tact.

"There is really no need to force parents to do anything, Minister Fleeby. We merely suggest that the ministry requires the caregivers of an affected minor to assure that they are handed over into the care of a dedicated facility."

"There are no dedicated facilites. What are you talking about?"

"Well, this is exactly what AWERE - with some additional funding - could provide. A separate housing unit, to care for minors affected by lycanthropy. Which ensures that they receive the care that allows them to become fully valuable members of the wizarding society. I cannot begin to describe how much I myself, profited from the privilege to grow up under the care of my parents and being able to go to school despite my condition. Only this allowed me to become the person I am today and I would like to help to extend this opportunity to other children that may be less lucky."

Fleeby raised an eyebrow.

"Of course you would want to support people like you. But what value are you even talking about? Do you hold a job, Mr. Lupin?"

Remus swallowed hard. He knew this would be coming but he still did not know how to answer.

"I do not."

"I'm sure he'd be working in a prestigious position just like you, if he'd only have the chance to," Sirius interjected before the smug smile could completely spread over Fleeby's face. "His grades were excellent and as a fellow Gryffindor, I can assure you that Mr. Lupin was and still is one of the most valubale members of this rotten society, with a job or without."

Remus couldn't help but feel flattered at Sirius' statement. Did he really think so highly of him? His chest, that had been tight and cold seconds ago, now flooded with warmth.

Sirius didn't look over too him tough, but kept fixating the minister who had shrunk in on himself a little.

Renfred cleared his throat.

"So...I think our time is almost over. Mr Fleeby, thank you for coming and listening to our propositions. I hope to be hearing from you very soon!"

After the meeting Sirius had wasted no time to get out of the room and the ministry building. While Renfred rushed after Fleeby and Gilford and Aisling stuck around to debrief, Remus had hurried after him.

Arrived outside, Sirius pulled out a cigarette and lit it with an angry snap before taking a deep drag, blowing the smoke out of his nostrils like a pissed off dragon.

Remus felt a little anxious approaching him. Sure, Sirius had clearly had his back upstairs, however he was quite sure that he'd have some objections regarding Remus' attempts to calm him.

"I'm sorry."

Sirius frowned.

"What about?"

"About the whole...Well, you know," Remus vaguely gestured at Sirius. "I get that you want to strangle that guy, really. But I don't think it's the most diplomatic approach..."

Sirius huffed.

"It's fine. It was good you were there."

Oh. That had not been what he had expected.

"Oh. Alright."

Sirius threw him a look, holding the gleaming cigarette between his slender fingers.

"Why do you sound so surprised? I said, you would be a good representative."

"You also said that I'm probably dismal to work with."

"Oh well, even the sharpest mind is wrong occasionally."

Remus chuckled and shook his head.

"Well, it does appear you might be in need of a relaxing presence..."

"You are not a relaxing presence!"

They both broke out into a stupid giggle.

"To be fair, it is almost impossible to be relaxed around Fleeby in general. I fucking hate him."

"I could barely tell."

Sirius snorted and pulled on the cigarette. The smoke pooled in the air between them, causing Remus to cough.

"Oh, shit sorry! Does it bother you?" Sirius waved his hand trying to drive the smoke away from Remus.

"No," Remus coughed. "It's fine. It's just the moon. Makes everything a little extra itchy I'm afraid."

Sirius put out the cigarette without another word.

"Thank you. But you could have..."

"It's fine. You could have told me it's bothering you."

"It didn't."

"It was!"

"Well it usually never did, it's just..."

"Oi, Sirius!"

Sirius leaned to the side, beaming, and waved excitedly at James who had just come out of the ministry entrance next to them, accompanied by Lily.

"James! Hey, hoped I would see you today. We had another meeting with the atrocious man again..."

"Fleeby?" Lily asked and James and Sirius nodded.

"Remus. You're here too," James stated and wiggled his eyebrows at Sirius who promptly rolled his eyes.

"Ah. I'm just...visiting?"

Fuck. How was he supposed to explain this.

Sirius put a hand on his shoulder.

"He just came here to cheer me up. And to make sure I don't set anything on fire." He winked at Remus. Remus could feel his cheeks burn.

"Cheer you up huh?" James grinned widely and punched Sirius' shoulder. "I knew this wasn't a one time thing. You never do hookups! And I can tell when you like someone."

Sirius pulled a face.

"You can't tell shit."

"Oh I can," James said teasingly and now nudged Remus. "Do you two fancy some lunch? Lily and I wanted to check out this new café around the corner. Apparently they have good sandwiches."

"Soo, how is your three month long hookup going? Any plans on moving in yet?"

"Shut up James."

"I mean, it would be kind of pointless anyways with how many shifts you pull in the housing project. Maybe you should move in there, Remus, I'm sure you'd get along with the people well." James smirked at Remus.

"What makes you think that," Remus asked a little too quickly, while nervously fumbling his cup of coffee. James had been joking. Still, Remus felt hot.

Sirius put his hand over his before he could spill anything. Not that this would help with Remus' anxiety at all.

"He just means you are an approachable guy."

"Yes, and people used to really like you at school," Lily pitched in.

Remus raised an eyebrow, acutely aware that Sirius' hand was still resting on his. Should he pull away? Would that be weird? Or was it more weird to seemingly casually hold hands on top of a coffe mug?

He cleared his throat.

"They were?"

Why did people keep saying that?

Probably because it is true, dear.

"Yes sure! You just kept to yourself so much, it was hard to really strike up a conversation with you that went deeper than school stuff. I mean, I am sure there is much more to you than books," Lily gave him a genuine smile. Remus couldn't believe it. Had he really been this reserved?

Well, he had been rather reclusive, out of fear of being found out... But he had never imagined that someone would even want to get to know him that well...

"Yes, he is also very into annoying me," Sirius said cheerfully. Remus barely had the capacity to react, because he'd also lightly squeezed his hand at the same time, sending tingles up Remus' entire arm.

James laughed.

"Sirius," Lily scolded him. "That's no way to talk about your boyfriend! James, stop laughing!"

"Oh come on Lily, it's just banter! You call me annoying all the time!"

"That is different because it's true!"

"Hey!"

Sirius cackled.

Remus smiled an overwhelmed smile. Sirius hand was still on his and it had not escaped his attention that he had also made no move to correct Lily.

Boyfriend.

Doesn't mean anything. We are just pretending.

Maybe it do-oes.

He could hear his mother smile through the words.

"Sorry Prongs, but she has always been saying that. You knew what you signed up for."

"You don't find me annoying though, do you?" James asked with a pout.

"How could I ever!"

"See, Pads loves me! Maybe I should marry him!"

"Hey!" Now it was Lily who let out an indignant gasp. "He is taken now, you are too late! And also you already gave me this, you can't take that back."

She waved her hand that was adorned by a sparkling ring.

"What!? When did that happen?" Sirius reached out for her hand to inspect the ring, leaving Remus' behind. He immediately missed his touch.

Ridiculous. They were just pretending.

James grinned over both ears. "Guess she'll marry me after all."

"I can't believe you did not tell me about this! I'm genuinely offended!" Sirius shot James an accusatory look.

"I'm sorry! It was a spontaneous idea..."

"You could have called me!" Sirius crossed his arms.

James looked apologetic.

"I'm sorry, really. You were so busy..."

Sirius huffed. He seemed actually disappointed. Without a thought, Remus pressed his knee against Sirius' to comfort him. Sirius glanced over but didn't really lighten up.

"Padfoot...Come on, I'm sorry. Will you still be my best man or do you hate me now?"

Sirius perked up. "Best man?"

"Well who else would I ask?" James grinned and Sirius matched it, offense clearly forgotten.

"You already know the bloody answer, then! Of course I will!" Sirius kicked James under the table. "You git! Next time you tell me the important news straight away!"

"I shall." James bowed his head and they both laughed. Lily rolled her eyes fondly and grinned at Remus.

"Better watch out what you're getting yourself into."

Remus smiled wrly. He wished he was actually getting into anything...

"We want to throw an engagement party on the weekend. I know that's rather short notice but I count on you being there. I even checked, no moon!"

Sirius pulled a thoughtful face.

"But it is on Tuesday. We have a bunch of stuff to prepare until then..."

"Padfoot! You can't leave me hanging, come on! Remus, you are invited as well of course."

Remus looked up in surprise.

"Oh thank you that is really nice of you. Uh, I'm sure we'll be able to make it somehow."

"I'm sure we'll be able to make it somehow," Sirius mocked, as they made their way back to the shelter. "Since when are you making all the decisions?"

Remus cringed.

"Sorry. Did you not want to go?"

"No! It's my best friends engagement, of course I want to go!"

"Then what's the problem?"

"It's the principal!"

"I thought that was a bad reason for rules..."

Sirius snorted and rolled his eyes. Then he frowned.

"Are you sure you want to go? So close to the moon?"

"I'll be alright."

"Just hours ago you said that the moon makes everything worse."

"I'll be fine. I can go. Unless you don't want me to..."

"No, I do. Can hardly show up without you now. And besides, it'll be nice having you around."

He said the last words so nonchalantly, as if they didn't mean anything, but he also avoided looking at Remus at all costs.

See. It means something.

Remus sighed and glanced at Sirius, striding next to him, in his elegant robes, shiny hair gently blowing in the wind, sunlight on his perfect features.

Yeah mom, not a chance.

**

Remus was nursing his third drink and nervously mustered the people around him. Many people. Too many people.

When James had said that it was a short notice invite, he hadn't expected so many people to turn up to the engagement party. But the small location that the soon to be Potters had rented out, was bursting at the seams. And while Remus recognised some faces from school, he felt deeply uncomfortable. Sirius had vanished a while ago to hang out with James. He had offered Remus to join them, but he hadn't wanted to get in the way. The two seemed to not have a lot of time together recently.

But he regretted his generous decision already. He felt awfully out of place, his head was throbbing and the music was too loud. Maybe he shouldn't have come after all...

"Remus, is that you?"

A blonde young woman sat down next to him. He took a second to recognise her.

"Melissa, hi! Good to see you here. How have you been?"

"Great, thank you. Lily invited me. Was a little short notice but I thought: Might be a good idea to see everyone again, maybe meet some new people, you know." She smiled brightly.

Melissa had been the Huffelpuff prefect in their year, so Remus had spent quite some time with her back in school. She seemed delighted to see him.

"So, what brings you here? Did Lily invite you?"

Remus nodded.

Melissa sat down next to him.

"You look good, you know."

"Oh, thank you."

What was that about.

"Are you here with someone?"

Oh.

Remus was about to answer when a shadow appeared over the couch they were sitting on.

"He's here with me."

Sirius dropped a hand on Remus' shoulder and gave Melissa a saccarine smile.

Her face fell.

"Oh. I'm sorry." She stood up and straightened her dress. "I...I just go."

Remus looked after her with mild confusion.

Sirius took her place next to him.

"Sorry, I hope I didn't ruin anything for you?"

"Uh, oh no. I'm not...Do you think she was flirting with me?"

"She sure did."

"Hmm."

Sirius was watching him intently.

"So you were interested then?"

"What? No! I'm not," Remus shook his head vigorously. That wasn't entirely true, Melissa was a lovely person. But right now, with Sirius beside him, he couldn't have cared less about her potential interest in him.

Sirius was still frowning a little.

He's jealous.

Why would he be.

Because he likes you.

Bloody hell mom, stop it already.

"Do you want to dance?"

Remus could barely believe the question had left his mouth. What was he thinking? He could not dance! Hopefully Sirius would say no.

"Uh, sure. Yes, why not." Sirius stood back up and offered Remus his hand. "Have to look like a couple now, don't we?" He smirked.

Remus thought he might die. He necked the rest of his drink and followed Sirius onto the crowded dancefloor, into his certain demise.

Dancing with Sirius wasn't half as hard as Remus had anticipated. His worries were long forgotten.

With Sirius hands on his hips, his own arms reluctantly wrapped around Sirius' neck Remus had forgotten pretty much everything. Sirius looked ethereal in the dim light. Absurdly handsome. So kissable... Maybe he could kiss him. They were pretending to be a couple after all. Couples kiss. Would Sirius agree to that? Or would that be taking it too far? God, he wanted to.

Like so many times recently, Remus body was acting on its own, inching closer to Sirius, locking his fingers into his collar.

Sirius leaned down a little. Remus could feel his breath on his lips, their eyes interlocked. He felt hypnotized. So close. He was getting nauseous.

Kiss him.

Sirius' arms wrapped closer around Remus' waist, pulling him in.

Remus gasped, like a fucking idiot.

But if Sirius had heard it, he didn't seem to care.

His nose brushed over Remus' cheek. Remus swallowed. Were they actually going to do this?

"Remus...?" Sirius whispered.

Remus stomach turned. His heart was racing and not in a good way.

Shit. Not now.

He pulled out of Sirius' arms and hurried towards the bathrooms.

Shit, shit, shit, shit.

He barely made it into one of the stalls before he threw up. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping it would stop the relentless throbbing in his head. His fingers dug into the toilet seat, before he emptied his stomach once more.

"Remus? Fuck, what's wrong?"

Remus felt Sirius kneel behind him. A warm hand was placed on his back.

"I'm fine," he croaked out.

"Stop the bullshit you are not fine, you are throwing up!"

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Should I take you home?"

Remus wanted to say that he was fine. That they could stay. That Sirius could stay. He didn't want to be a bother. He didn't want to need help.

But the thought of hauling himself home seemed too daunting...

"Would you?" He asked meekly.

Sirius gently rubbed his back.

"Of course. Can you stand?"

He could. With Sirius' support at least. Slowly and carefully they made their way back outside and said their goodbyes to James and Lily.

"Oh no, Remus what's wrong?"

Remus must gave looked quite poorly, leaning heavily against Sirius, because James' and Lily's faces were filled with concern.

"He just had a few too many drinks. I'm gonna take him home," Sirius said.

"I'm sorry," Remus murmured embarrassed. What would they think of him now.

"Oh no worries mate, we've all been there. I suppose as a prefect you have some to make up for," James slapped his shoulder too hard.

The way home was a struggle. Remus felt too bad to apparate, so Sirius transported both of them which made Remus throw up again, into the bushes in front of the shelter.

"I'm sorry I'm such a mess."

"It's alright." Sirius helped him back up. "It's the moon though, isn't it? Or did you actually drink that much while I was gone?"

" 's both," Remus slurred as Sirius led him into the house. He kept his eyes almost completely shut. The moonlight was stinging. "I'm usually not this bad at this time of the month. But I usually also don't drink." He dropped onto his bed and pressed a hand to his forehead. He couldn't move anymore. Today had been too much.

Honor your limits.

He huffed.

"Let me help you," Sirius said and pulled Remus out of his jacket and shoes before freeing the duvet from underneath him and tucking him in.

"Do you need anything? A potion or something?" He knelt down next to the bed.

"Nothing that would properly work now," Remus murmured and curled up under the duvet. "It will pass on its own, if I lay here a for a little. I'll be okay. Thank you."

"Okay then, sleep well." Sirius gently stroked his hair. Remus lightly pressed up into his palm, reveling in the touch, before they both realized what they were doing.

Sirius quickly pulled his hand back.

"Uhm...I...I'll go?"

Remus' fingers wrapped around the edge of the duvet. Stay.

He nodded. "Good night."

"Good night."

He heard Sirius' steps leaving the room, then the door closed with a soft click.

[whackdreamer]

To teach a bull

Summary: After Claire discovers that Yami hasn't mastered Cloverian script, she decides to help by teaching him. However, Yami is quite displeased by the idea of studying.

Word count: 3.1k words

Note: Something I made for Yami's birthday. It came out a little late but it's still within the Virgo season. Never too late for our maiden Yami Sukehiro.

Yami Sukehiro x Claire Polaris (OC)

While most knights were sent on patrol missions, Claire was one of the knights that remained at the base. She settled in at the captain’s office to fulfill her duty of sorting out mission reports. Julius was present in the office as well and was occupied in reading the documents stacked on his desk. 

Claire neatly sorted the important documents inside the drawers. Just as she was about to pull open another drawer, Julius sighed. 

It was his third sigh for the past minute. Claire had counted. 

“Are you feeling unwell today?” Claire turned to her squad captain with a look of concern. 

Julius dropped the report he was reading. “No. I’m perfectly fine. Its just- I don’t know how to fix this problem.” He began massaging his temples.  

Claire thought it must be serious, having Julius appear so deeply troubled. 

She peeked at the report Julius was reading. It was a report that was written by none other than Yami Sukehiro. Claire didn’t see the issue with it at first glance, but as she read through its entirety the problem became clear. His written report had several errors. 

Claire knew that Yami was from a foreign country, but it never crossed her mind how he learned Cloverian in the first place. 

Julius then revealed it was him who taught Yami Cloverian shortly after they’d met. He covered the basics, but it seemed Yami struggled writing reports in Cloverian. 

As Julius had grown occupied with his work as a squad captain (and rare magic hunting) he failed to continue Yami’s lessons.  

“I’m impressed that he even learned it at all. I never knew it was you who taught him how to read and write Cloverian script.” Claire vaguely imagined how their teaching sessions worked. 

“Yami can be difficult to teach because he gets bored quickly. I had to motivate him by treating him to free meals.” Julius leaned back as he reminisced of the effort he made for Yami. 

“We can’t let him keep making errors in his written reports. If he never learns about it, he’ll remain ignorant of his mistakes.”  

“I’ve thought of teaching him again. But I currently don’t have the time to do so. That’s why-” Julius didn’t even finish and sighed for the fourth time today. 

“…Why don’t I do it? It’ll help you a lot if Yami improves.” Claire suggested in hopes she could ease her captain’s burdens.  

“You’ll teach him?” he asked with excitement. His eyes sparkled like it did whenever he discovered a rare magic item. 

“Of course. If you don’t mind, may I have his report?” 

She figured she should at least start by assessing the extent of Yami’s knowledge. The Grey Deer library held sufficient language reference books she could use. After taking some books off the shelves, she went to find Yami. 

“What do you mean I need to study again?” Came Yami Sukehiro’s words as he glared at his squad mate. 

His intimidating eyes had no effect as she kept her unyielding stance. “Look at your report here.” She showed him the most recent report he submitted and pointed to the parts that had now been encircled. “There’s so many mistakes.” 

“I don’t see why you need to fuss so much about it. I can just write another if it’s that bad,” Yami shrugged. 

He tried to snatch his report away from her, but Claire swiftly pulled it out of his reach. “You’re missing the point. You need to study again so you don’t go making mistakes so often.” 

“Why should I listen to you?” He crossed his arms and frowned. 

“I was thinking how I could treat you to a nice meal if you can easily pass my test. Then, I won’t bother you anymore if you’ve proven me wrong.” 

“That doesn’t sound bad. Fine, I’ll do it. Bring it on,” Yami smirked. 

Claire blinked at his immediate agreement. Free food truly was a big motivator for him. 

Yami sat straight on his chair. He stretched his arms before taking the quill to his side. His eyes burned with determination. 

Seeing how Yami was more than ready for the test, Claire recited the first word. 

“Oh, that’s easy,” Yami wrote his answer. 

As Claire gave one word after another, Yami breezed through and had the words written in Cloverian letters. 

Claire recited the last word. 

“What?” Yami snapped his head at Claire. 

Claire promptly repeated the word. 

“Is that even an actual word? You’re not saying this to mess around, aren’t you?” Yami asked. 

“Are you having doubts? That’s unlike you.”  

“I was just making sure you’re not pulling any tricks on me,” Yami narrowed his eyes. 

“Excuses, excuses.” Claire rolled her eyes. 

Yami blew air out of his nose in frustration that Claire thought he was getting closer to finally becoming a bull. 

“Alright. Time to check.” Claire leaned in to take the paper from him. Yami hesitated to surrender his answers as he refused to hand it over. 

She was relieved the paper didn’t get torn apart after succeeding in taking it out of his hands.  

After reading through the answers he wrote, her brows knitted tightly. Yami felt himself slowly sink to his seat.  

“I knew it, Captain Julius did teach you the bare basics,” Claire assessed. 

“There goes my free meal,” he mumbled under his breath. 

She was pondering on the work she needed to do as she pinched the bridge of her nose. 

There was one more thing she needed to check from him. Claire opened a book and flipped its pages to a certain passage. “Can you try reading this?” 

“Do I still get free dinner?” Yami pouted his lips. 

“I’ll think about it.” 

Satisfied, Yami carefully articulated the words written in the book. 

There were some sentences where he had to read slowly. 

“Stop. I’ve heard enough.” She raised a hand at him after he finished reading a few sentences. 

“How did I do?” 

“…Where do you want to eat?” 

Claire changed the topic and refused to give him proper feedback. 

Yami didn’t feel like he passed her test at all. Still, he took his promised free dinner to a pub he liked. 

Although Claire kindly joined him so she could pay the bill, she spent the whole time scribbling on a book. Yami almost lost his appetite from hearing the pen scratch on paper the entire time. The salad she ordered remained untouched even as he had nearly finished eating his steak. 

Claire gave the book she was previously scribbling on to Yami, “Read the pages I’ve marked. Next time, I’ll test you again and if you get it mostly right, I’ll treat you here for a week.”  

Yami swiftly swiped the book from her. “That a promise?” 

“On the other hand, if you fail you must agree to undergo a week of lecture from me. It would be a deal instead of a promise. How does that sound?” 

Raised voices resonated from the Grey Deer study hall. Morgen Faust happened to be passing by when he heard the voices so familiar to him that he hurriedly came over to find out what was happening. 

“I don’t want to do this anymore!” As Morgen neared the hall, he identified the voice to be Yami’s. 

“We had a deal! Hey, don’t walk away from me!” Came a voice that was undoubtedly Claire’s. 

“That wasn’t a deal. You tricked me into doing what you wanted me to do.” 

“It's not like that! I’m doing this to help you.” Claire sounded desperate. 

“You wanted me to write a better report, then I’ll go ahead and write another report!” 

“Uhm… guys?” Morgen timidly peered inside. The sight of one tall dark-haired man, and one short silver-haired girl confirmed his suspicions. “What is it this time?” 

Morgen undeniably detected a heavy tension between Claire and Yami. He was no stranger to seeing them argue. But this felt more heated than usual. 

The arguing duo stopped when they saw Morgen arrive. 

Instead of explaining himself, Yami stormed off and left the two light mages behind. 

“We’re not done here!” shouted Claire. 

But that didn’t stop Yami from leaving. 

Morgen observed the unusual flush on Claire’s face. “Care to tell me what happened?” His soft voice brought comfort to Claire. 

“...Morgen.” Claire had a faint crack in her voice.  

 He gave her a gentle pat on her shoulder as he waited for her to calm down. 

Yami settled on a hill not far from the squad base. He tried to empty his mind, but his thoughts kept going back to his fight with Claire. 

“I heard you two got into a fight, again.” Julius said as he located where Yami was hiding. 

Yami grumbled as Julius inadvertently reminded him of what he was just trying to forget. 

“It's unlike you to walk away without resolving the issue with her. What made you so upset?” Julius sat beside Yami. 

“I just don’t get why she’s trying so hard.” Yami finally spoke. “What if I make a mistake? I’m just a foreigner from Hino who can’t write Cloverian perfectly.” 

Julius thoughtfully hummed, “This was all because she saw my frustration when I read your mission report. I only felt that way because I regretted not being a good enough teacher, not because of the mistakes you made.” 

“I think you did a great job teaching me. It was just- wasn’t it enough that I could write my name and read signs? Claire is wasting her time on me.” 

Julius gave Yami a fatherly smile, “You mean you were uncomfortable at the thought of Claire looking after you?” 

“Where did you even get that idea?” Yami turned his gaze away from Julius. The captain’s expression left him bashful. 

“Because Claire could easily rewrite the report herself but instead she decided to teach you so you can do it properly on your own.” Julius' smile transformed into a teasing grin as Yami grew embarrassed. “She thinks highly enough of you that she went out of her way to help you improve.” 

Back inside the Grey Deer study hall, Morgen tried to understand the situation from Claire, “So Yami suddenly got mad when you said he failed your test?” 

Claire nodded. She proceeded to explain the ‘deal’ she made with Yami. 

Morgen read the exam Claire made for Yami. He frowned as it became apparent to him. “You were too hard on him. Even if it was something you had to do to prove his knowledge wasn’t enough. Purposely giving him difficult questions would make him feel like you tricked him to fail.”  

“That wasn’t my intention.” Claire hung her head low. 

Morgen worried for both Yami and Claire. They weren’t just knights from the same squad they were his precious friends. Seeing them fall into disagreement saddened him. He wished for them to make up as soon as possible. 

Morgen gave Claire advice on how she should stop beating around the bush and tell Yami upfront how she wanted him to improve. She was surprised by Morgen’s optimism that it would soon go well between them. The faithful glint in his eyes left an imprint on her memory. 

Moments passed since her fight with Yami. Claire shifted her focus to magic research after Morgen left the study hall. She was grateful for his help now she finally had an idea how to make amends. But she couldn’t bring herself to leave the study hall on the chance she might run into Yami so soon. She wasn’t certain it would be enough. She wasn’t prepared to face him. The frustration kept building up. Torn between patching things as soon as possible and waiting for the perfect timing, she opted to take a nap.  

Yami decided to hurry back to the study hall after Julius started to relentlessly mention nonsensical ideas regarding him and Claire. There he found Claire sleeping and hunched over the table using a book as a pillow. Not to disturb her sleep, he took silent steps and carefully pulled the chair beside her.  

Yami took a quill and paper and wrote the words ‘Surpass your limits’ in Cloverian. He really loved this phrase after hearing it first from Julius. Yami had gone far from where he used to be since he found himself in this country. He ended up becoming a part of the magic knights because of Julius. But whenever he remembered that he was still a foreigner, it never felt important to learn their language or culture. No matter how hard he could try, he would still be too different from everyone else. 

Now he realized where it went wrong. He settled on knowing just enough to get by. When Claire tried to teach him, it reminded him of the gap that no language lesson could ever connect. 

He gathered the materials Claire made for him and attempted to understand what was inscribed. All that he could do was scratch his head in confusion. 

“Maybe Julius was to blame after all,” Yami groaned. 

Claire shifted and slowly woke up from her nap. She could feel a presence beside her, but her vision remained a blur. It might’ve been Morgen who came to check up on her again. But the magic being given off wasn’t like his at all. 

“…So, how do you read this again?” 

… 

… 

“WHA-!?” Claire jumped from her seat when she finally registered that it was Yami who sat beside her and asked her a question. 

Yami still had his finger pointing at a certain word to an open book and wore a dull expression as opposed to the last time she saw him. 

“What are you doing here!?” The shock had yet to settle as her heart still beat rapidly. 

“Well…you said you were going to teach me… That’s why I was asking you how to read this.” 

“But I thought you didn’t want to study anymore?” Claire was confused. 

“I changed my mind… After all, you were being generous enough to give me free lectures…right? You’re teaching me for free, right?” 

“Uhm, yeah. But you were being difficult, so I had to find a way to convince you to study seriously.” 

Yami tapped that one finger he used to point at a word, doing it in a state of pondering. He wanted to know something other than how to read. 

Claire anticipated what he was about to say as Yami’s gaze left her frozen in place.  

“Why are you helping me? You call me a musclehead and a dumb bull. Didn’t you see me as a lost cause to begin with?” 

“Gosh. You truly are an idiot,” she huffed. Claire showed Yami his report again and laid it out on the table. “You've learned Cloverian within only what? A year? That's pretty amazing for a foreigner. Some who were even born into this country can still make mistakes with it. But for you, this is all new to you. Yet, you are at this level.” 

This level, she meant Yami’s imperfect report was a commendable feat itself. Yami only realized that he was tapping one foot from under the table when he heard the heel of his boot clattering against the floor. The small curl of his lips now dangerously grew wider. 

He was grinning, prideful yet innocent. His tanned skin brought emphasis to the white of his teeth.  

“I think this is the first time I received such high praise from you. Maybe if you treat me nicer, I will attend your classes more often.” 

“Don’t get used to it. I still think you’re an idiot.” Then Claire began to speak softly, “But I also think that you’ve struggled to take it in all at once. Learning this country’s writing system, among other things.” 

Claire was unsure if Yami heard her last words clearly. Still, she gave herself a mental pat on the back for speaking as honestly as possible like Morgen told her to do. 

Yami stood up and bowed at Claire, “Please teach me everything I need to know.” 

“W-why are you lowering your head at me! Stop that.” Claire fumbled on her words as she quickly raised his head back up by pushing his shoulders. 

Yami’s eyes held no contempt. He bowed his head at her with the full intent to be her student. Claire didn’t know if Yami knew what it meant in this country to lower your head to someone. 

“I’m going to squeeze everything you need to learn into that muscle brain of yours. You better be ready.” 

“But first, tell me what this word means?” He showed the same word he asked about earlier. 

“You’re still not over that?” Claire giggled softly. She found herself a silly student, maybe teaching him wouldn’t be so bad. 

Julius sat in his office where stacks of mission reports lay on top of his desk. A knock came from the door which he acknowledged, giving his permission for them to enter. 

It was Yami, who came to submit his mission report. 

Julius accepted and read it right away. “You’re writing has improved! I see your supplementary lessons paid off.” 

“You have Claire to take credit for that. She’s much better at explaining things than you,” Yami deadpanned. 

“I-is that so.”  

“Yeah. You taught me to write different words without telling me proper writing structure.” 

“Haha... I guess Claire’s just a better teacher than me.” 

“Yep. Much better.” Yami proceeded to give Julius a nod and walked to leave the captain’s office. 

Yami opened the door and Claire came into view. The lower half of her face was covered with the paper she was holding. 

“You’re here to submit your report too?” 

“Yeah, uh- Excuse me.” Claire lowered her head and squeezed through the space between Yami and the door. 

She appeared to be in a hurry, so Yami gave way and opened the door wider for her. 

Yami closed the door and was about to head back to his quarters. 

“Thank you for the report. About Yami, I hope he didn’t give you much of a problem.” 

“Not at all. He learns fast so it was no trouble.” 

The exchange between Julius and Claire remained audible to Yami. His mind went to Claire’s expression earlier. She might have tried to hide her face, but he was able to tell that her ki was acting strangely then. 

“She must be in a hurry because she needed to take a dump. Yeah. That must’ve been why.” Yami said to himself. 

Yet something about seeing Claire then made his heart flutter uncontrollably. 

[END] 

[houseofpendragons]

Untamable Equine

Summary: Calamity takes her first steps on her road to disaster

Warning: Gun, blood (nothing gory or anything but you never know what might trigger someone)

A/N: So I first posted this on Wattpad but I figured I’d bring it over here to share with y’all

(THE BANDITTI OF THE PRAIRIES.

A TALE OF THE MISSISSIPPI VALLEY)

CHAPTER. I.

"THE valley of the Mississippi River from its earliest settlement has been more infested with the reckless and the bloodstained men, than any other part of the country, being more congenial to their habits and offering the great inducements to follow their nefarious and dangerous trade.

Situated as it is, of great commercial importance, and the river who's name it bears, together with its tributaries stretching four thousand miles north from the Gulf of Mexico, and draining all the country south and west of the great chain of Lakes, and between the Allegheny and Rocky Mountains, it has afforded them an unequalled chance to escape detection and pursuit, and thus wooed as it were, countless villains and blood-stained, law-doomed ones to screen themselves in its bosom.

Organized bands, trampling upon right, and defying all law human or divine, have so annoyed the peaceful and quiet citizens of this great valley, that in the absence of a sufficient judicial power the aid of "Judge Lynch" has been but too frequently called in, and a neighboring tree proved a gallows and "a short shrift and strong cord" been the doom of those who have ever plead vainly for mercy at his bar."

Basking in the shade underneath the sun-dappled canopy of an ancient sycamore, on the cusp of a serpentine trail, a girl named Calamity Grace found herself lost in the timeworn pages of Edward Bonney's 'Banditti of the Prairie.' This book, a gateway further into a world not so terribly distant from her own, was an ever present companion for the spirited young girl. Their winding path was leading them closer to the bustling heartbeat of New York, a city that existed like a mirage in her eagerly expectant mind.

For Calamity, who was christened as such in memory of her mother's death, the trail was home. So, having always lived on the countryside, the thought of an actual city seemed like a far-off dream. Her Pa, a brawny robust man with a heart and spirit as boundless as the plains they traversed, was her only family. I mean, sure, she had kin in her aunts and uncle back up at the family's farm in Virginia, but they had long since abandoned the wild unpredictability of the trail in favor of settling down. Not her Pa though, her Ma had died on the trail and he was still here, headed to New York to work as protection to those traveling West on the wagon trains. He was less a conventional father and more of a boisterous older brother, his eyes always alight with mischief, sporting a grin that seemed to outstretch the horizon itself. People always told her she had his smile.

Disrupting the tranquil silence, a shadow lumbered towards her until it swallowed her up in its darkness, his big bellied laugh echoing and ripping through the quietude. "Calamity, you're obsessed, honey." He started, plucking the book from her fingers just as one plucks the petals from the pulp of a flower. "You need to make some friends beyond the ones in these dusty, old pages. Or someone who ain't a book for that matter." Amos, he wore that signature grin, the limited sunlight setting his hair and the scars that littered his body aglow. To most he was an intimidating foe, but when his little girl looked up into those eyes like an open expanse of blue sky, the only feeling she felt was home.

His playful jest kindled a spark of laughter in Calamity's eyes. He held the book within arms reach, teasing, challenging her. She sprang to her feet, her nimble fingers reaching out for the purloined leather-bound pages. A dance of playful tussle ensued as he pulled the book back at the very last second, so as to leave her agile little hand grappling with the air. His chesire grin was more arrogant now. Calamity didn't mind, sending back an even more mischievous smile to mirror his own, her eyes alight.

They continued this game of back and forth, each time Calamity becoming closer to her end goal. With frustration nipping at her heels, she could feel the pressure of the book zipping through the air, tickling the tips of her fingers. It all came to an end however, halting abruptly when Calamity tripped and scrapped her knee against a jagged rock.

Though getting quicker, she had still been no match for the stone that caught her unsuspecting and sent her stumbling down bloody to the hard packed earth. She immediately dropped down as a shock of pain went through her body. Her hands instinctively coming up to cradle the broken skin, tears welling up in her eyes. She could feel the sting of the air mixing with her cut as blood welled up freely from between her fingers .

She heard the book collide angrily against the ground, dust shooting up to create a film aimlessly on top of it. Amos collapsed at her side only a moment later. The sight of blood had quickly dissolved the laughter in her father's eyes, replaced by the familiar warmth of a parent's love. His voice softened as he insisted, "Move your hands away, let me see it, Calamity."

As he examined her scrapped knee, Calamity's keen eyes saw a glimmer behind him, and it wasn't from her tears left unshed. As she pieced together the fact that it was the sparkling of a river, an idea began to blossom in her sharp mind, sweet revenge tickling at the edges of her brain.

She saw her opportunity.

Seizing the chance, Calamity just 'gave him a little push' she would later go on to say, sending him sprawling back into the river. It rose up to greet his fallen form, creating an outline of his defeat. His surprised laughter echoed, reverberating through the clearing, merging with her own unladylike giggles that escaped past her lips in triumph.

Heaving himself back up onto the bank, he shook out his golden locks in her direction, making her squeal in delight. Though when he shook his head again it was in disbelief. "Now, how about you tell me how you noticed that, and I didn't?" He questioned, eyes twinkling with pride and intrigue.

Mimicking his teachings, she replied, "I did what you always tell me to do," her voice mirroring the hum of the river, "observe and listen."

As they lay sprawled out in the grassy field, the sun drying her Pa's clothes, he steered the conversation back to the book. Calamity Grace, her eyes reflecting the endless sky above, began to narrate the captivating tales of outlaws and their thrilling escapades with fascination twinkling in her eyes.

Her voice was bummed with fervor as she spoke, something that only a young heart could command, her words painting countless pictures and weaving vivid images of a life marked by excitement and all the other thrills that sort of life had to offer.

"I want to experience that," she confessed, almost as if she was just whispering it to the wind. A determined glint filled up her deep brown irises, "I want to know what it's like."

Her Pa, taken aback, slowly adjusted his head so that he was facing the side of her own. "Why would you want to go and do such a silly thing like that?"

With the rivers soft murmur serving as a backdrop to safeguard her secrets, she responded with, "So I can taste what it's like to be truly free, Pa." Her voice, unwavering, carried with it the hardness of the outlaws she so admired.

The sun was setting over the New Mexico landscape, casting long shadows that danced across the expanse of plains. Little Calamity now sat cross-legged in the grass, her freckled face glowing in the waning light. Her declaration hung in the air, a bold statement of intent that seemed to echo across the vast, open landscape. It staled in the air, something the girl seemed to pay no mind to and if she did, she didn't show it.

Amos, a grizzled veteran of countless gunfights and a man who had seen both the best and the worst that the West had to offer, was taken aback by her words. He sat up abruptly, his worn leather boots digging into the soft earth. His gaze fell upon his only child, the spitting imagine of himself and her beloved Ma. His heart clenched as he pondered her words, teetering with them in his mind.

Without saying a word, he had now risen all the way up onto his feet, striding over to his saddlebag. His hand disappeared into the worn leather pouch, emerging with a weighty object. He blocked his daughter's view with his broad back, the physical representation of his internal battle only increased the chaos going on inside of his mind as he now contemplated the object resting in his hands. It was a pistol, a brutal testament to the harsh realities of the Wild West, a harbinger of life and death.

His mind was a tangle of thoughts, like a tumbleweed caught in a desert wind. Would he be promoting violence by reaching her how to handle a firearm? Or was he simply preparing her?

Slowly, he turned to face his daughter at long last, pistol still cradled in his calloused hands. The rays from the sun caught on the gunmetal, causing it to gleam ominously. "Calamity," he called, his voice a gravely whisper carried on the wind. "Come here."

She rose to her feet, curiosity dancing in her dark eyes. She stepped towards him, her small boots leaving light impressions on the grass. He held the gun out to her, his heart pounding in his chest.

The pistol was a thing of brutal beauty, a testament to the deadly craftsmanship of the 1800s. It was a Colt Single Action Army revolver, its body a sleek expanse of steel, forged and tempered to withstand the rigors of frontier life. The grip was pristine white, made from the finest ivory to represent purity and elegance, adorned with intricate carvings that Amos had commissioned when Calamity was born. A rearing mustang, a symbol of untamable freedom, was etched into the wood of the ivory, its wild spirit mirroring that of its intended owner.

Casting a glance towards the boys, who were currently engaged in a game of horseshoes a little distance away, Amos led Calamity farther off into the rolling hills as their laughter echoed in the wind behind them. The world around them eventually fell away until it was just the two of them surrounded by natures natural and foreign song that was the star beauty of the West in both father and daughter's eyes.

"The gun ain't a toy, Calamity," he began, his voice stern yet gentle. He showed her how to hold the firearm, how to aim, how to squeeze the trigger and not pull. "Pulling the trigger is a careless act, no way to know if your aim will be true. But when you pull that trigger is when you really mean it, you hear me?" It wasn't a question.

The recoil jarred her much smaller arm, a sharp reminder of the weapon's lethal power, she could feel the surge of empowerment coursing through her veins now. She didn't flinch, her young face set in a steely determination that made Amos's heart swell with pride.

And the recoil that was still rattling her arm didn't just fill her with sensation, a thrill raced down her spine. It was intoxicating to her, feeling like she could protect both herself and others with the simple squeeze of the hairpin trigger. She felt invincible, responsible for life and death if her small hands so chose. Her heartbeat was pounding in her ears like the beat of a drum following no specific rhythm or pattern. A symphony of fear, excitement, and pure joy swam through her ears. She was not just a girl traveling the Wild, Wild West; she was a force to be reckoned with.

As the echo of gunshots reverberated off the plains, Amos watched his daughter, her face still being illuminated by the setting sun, eyes ablaze with newfound knowledge. With pride, there can sometimes come equal parts dread. He felt a pang of foreboding, a dark shadow that began seeping in at the edges of his heart as he watched her hand, clutching the ivory handled pistol in a tight resolve. This was a dangerous place, it's beauty matched only by a brutality Calamity had only ever read about. His smile slowly faded, replaced by a contemplative frown. For some reason he found himself reflecting on her name.

Calamity Grace. A disaster disguised as beauty.

The irony of her birth had not been lost on him. She was the most beautiful baby he had ever seen, and she had taken the woman he had loved more than anything. He didn't blame her, nor did he harbor any resentment. Instead, he loved her more if that was even possible. He decided to find humor in the situation, a bittersweet coping mechanism he supposed .

But now aside, still remained entirely glued to his little girl holding that instrument of power and danger, he couldn't help but wonder to himself. Would she become a calamity to others one day? Would her desire for freedom and her spirit of rebellion lead her to getting her wish and becoming an outlaw, bringing disaster to other towns and people? Would she one day live up to her name, and send a shiver of fear down the spines of those who dared to utter her name?

These thoughts worried him. His heart clenched with a father's worry. A father fear that they can't protect their own child from themselves. His little girl, his Calamity Grace, was standing on in the precipice of a path that could lead to an uncontrollable life of danger and uncertainty. He could only pray that she would navigate this wild frontier with the wisdom and strength he knew she'd inherited from her Ma.

He had given her a tool of survival, a piece of the harsh reality they lived in. But in her hands, it was more than just a weapon, it was a symbol of her will to carve her own path in this world, a testament to her spirit that was as wild and free as the rearing Mustang etched onto the guns handle.

He stood there, the sun dipping below the horizon his daughter by his side, he made a silent vow to a spirit resting in a grave. He would guide her, teach her, and stand by her, come what may. Because no matter what she was his little girl, his Calamity Grace, a disaster masked by beauty. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

But life has a funny way of doing whatever it likes doesn't it?

[doom-dreaming]

Blue Team Beach House: Entry, Kitchen, Laundry

Now that we've looked at some of the design considerations from the outside, we're ready to head indoors! I feel like I'm on an HGTV show.

Right inside the front door (which, like most of the doors in this house, is tall and has a window feature - again, sight lines are important), we have the entryway. It's wide enough that it doesn't feel cramped, but still has plenty of storage space for things like keys, books, jackets, shoes, and exercise equipment (including but not limited to: Kelly's running kit and Linda's yoga mat). Which brings us to this post's first Design Consideration: Efficient Storage.

There's a place for mail and a mirror to double-check that they look sufficiently rugged and intimidating before they go out in public. Eventually there will be pictures in those frames. The holo-panel by the front door is the manual control hub for the dumb AI that runs the house's utility systems. (I'm still undecided on a name for it. I'd take suggestions.)

The color palette of the entryway more or less informs the theme for the whole house; various shades of blue and natural wood. Light floors and ceilings contrast with the dark blue walls and keep things from feeling too closed-in.

Directly in front of the entry is the kitchen and it's a straight shot through to the laundry area (but we'll get there in a second). Also, remember what I said about edible plants?

An indoor herb garden! Right around the corner from the entry, and just a few steps away from the kitchen (it's all open-plan anyway) there's fresh basil, sage, parsley, grapes, mushrooms, and garlic. Linda has assigned herself to plant care, she likes the routine of checking in on them every morning. (Quick shoutout to the moveobjects cheat for allowing me to sink those huge clunky vertical planters into the wall a bit, they look so much better that way.) Behind that door is a little shotgun bathroom, but that's for a different post.

The kitchen is spacious (as it needs to be when you have up to four huge people in it at once) with plenty of room to move around. Again, the coloring is light, mostly blond wood and white (easy to clean, as Kelly is so helpfully demonstrating) with the exception of the appliances, which add a balance of dark and/or colorful accents.

Utensils, knives, and pans are wall-mounted to free up counter space and there are so many cabinets and drawers for storage.

The decor throughout the house focuses mostly on wood and glass as its main elements, but there are industrial touches, seen here in the hanging lamps over the bar island and the brushed metal backsplash. (Player note: I added the blue floor light strips 1) because Halo is sci-fi and this house needed at least a little of that and 2) because the abrupt switch from wood to tile looked weird without a border.)

Instead of a traditional dining table, there is a long bar with additional storage under the countertop. Again, the seating is sturdy and stable and matches the muted dusty blue of the walls and framing of the overhead lamps, adding some color to an otherwise very earthy palette. The hallway behind the kitchen wall provides a way to access the two downstairs suites (Fred's and Kelly's) in a way that doesn't involve cutting through the kitchen. Neither of those doors are in the hallway, and as such can be seen from multiple angles on the ground floor, reducing blind spots to points of entry and egress.

Tucked under the stairs, next to Kelly's room, is the laundry area. As is par for the course, the washer and dryer are stacked to save space and nearly everything else is wall-mounted or stored on shelves.

The second Design Consideration I hope this post has demonstrated is: Unobstructed Space To Move. This will continue to be apparent throughout the rest of the house, but I feel like it's especially applicable on the ground floor where the walkways are wide and nothing is closed off from anything else in such a way that makes it difficult to access quickly.

[goosetrainer]

Mari's NOT SO LAST MINUTE (wow) Tera Raid Guide #5 - Rillaboom

It's Bellibolt again. I wanted to be more creative but it works and it recycles an old pokémon, so why change? Also busy

It's a bit ~close~ (you need not lose time selecting your moves and it requires a bit of NPC hunting) so if I have time in the next days I'll see if there's something better. In the meantime, reminder that I'll let anyone borrow my own pokémon if you can't train your own (need Pokémon Home)

Bellibolt l.100

Tera type: Electric

Ability: Electromorphosis

Item: Magnet

Nature: Modest/Quiet

IVs: max HP, def, sp.atk, sp.def

EVs: 252 sp.atk, 252 def, 4 HP

Moveset:

-Acid Spray (TM)

-Parabolic Charge (egg move)

-Electric Terrain (level up) / Reflect (TM)

- ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

If it looks familiar, it's because it is the same Bellibolt from the Walking Wake/Iron Leaves guide, literally just took it out of the box and tried it and it worked. Just swapped Light Screen with Electric Terrain.

Usage:

Rillaboom has mostly physical attacks + one special move (Boomburst)(not so dangerous, low special attack). Wipes your stat modifications the turn after his shield went up, wipes his own the turn after the shield went down.

The biggest threat is the fact that he has TWO (2) attack-boosting moves, Growth and Bulk Up. By the end of the fight he'll have them used ~4 times... which brings us to the important part of the fight

RESET FOR THE RIGHT NPC ALLIES

-favour pokémon with the ability INTIMIDATE. One is necessary and technically sufficient, two is ideal, three is an unicorn but if it happens it's good! (They are: Tauros, Staraptor, Arcanine)

-optional: Dudunsparce, Umbreon and Drifblim can apply paralysis/burn status and it helps, either with the occasional free turn or the very welcome attack debuff. In theory Sylveon has Charm but I can't recall seeing it use it...? If you got an Intimidate mon but none of these, it should work just fine, try your luck.

-IMPORTANT if you get Arboliva RUN AWAY and retry. Rillaboom already generates Grassy Terrain on turn one making his grass type move the most dangerous, no need to prolong that suffering for the rest of the fight.

What you're gonna do is: Electric Terrain on turn one (gets rid of the Grassy Terrain, making Drum Beating weaker and helping with at least one Parabolic Charge's damage) OR Reflect (protects against all physical moves but no offensive boost for you). Only use one or the other, don't waste turns in my experience Electric Terrain worked better but maybe it's just me.

Then the usual 3x Acid Spray - you will die in the middle, after the first or second Acid Spray, don't panic. IMPORTANT if you manage to get all 3 done before dying, but end up with less than half life, DO NOT TERASTALLIZE. You'll just die the next turn and lose your terastal. Rillaboom is very fast, if your Bellibolt's nature is Quiet his speed is more than double yours, don't think you can heal at this point! Let yourself faint.

Terastallize when you're sure you'll survive, and go with the 2-3 Parabolic Charges that you need to break the shield.

Now, this point is a bit weird, there's a chance of the game bugging a bit with the order of action but use either Acid Spray or Parabolic Charge. [Technical rant here: in theory Acid Spray is the one you should select - Rillaboom will get rid of his own stat debuffs before you attack, meaning that his special defense goes back up to neutral again and you start getting it down on the same turn, but sometimes for some reason you attack first and he resets his stats after, and if he attacks on the same turn you find yourself with less HP on Bellibolt, and neutral special defense on Rillaboom, it's weird. Keep an eye on what happens during the previous turns and act accordingly I guess.]

In any case, the post-shield fight will have you alternating Acid Spray - Parabolic Charge - Acid Spray - Parabolic Charge, etc. Rillaboom's attack will likely be at +3 at this point, so you can only really spare one turn at a time to mess with stats before you need to heal. Two Acid Sprays should be enough, but if you have the time and the life you can use it a third time. Much more likely that you'll only have the time to do that only twice though, and then finish with 1-3 Parabolic Charges, it should hit hard enough by then.

TL;DR: Electric Terrain/Reflect on turn 1, Acid Spray x3, die and resurrect anytime during the Acid Sprays, terastallize, Parabolic Charge until end of the shield, Acid Spray > Parabolic Charge > Acid Spray > Parabolic Charge > Parabolic Charge spam

Pros:

-it's literally a returning build. Reduce Reuse Recycle!

-no transfer required from other games

-immune to the secondary effect of Body Slam (paralysis)

-idk check the last time's pros

Cons:

-bit slow, bit too close with the time limit

-heavily dependent on NPCs 😞 sorry

^this attempt was won, just took a screen before the last attack to show how close it was. Also notice that I have Light Screen instead of Reflect, lol! I used Electric Terrain that time, instead.