impeccably trained

Blue Blood

“Prince Jimin was born with blue blood. His coronation is rapidly approaching, but there are two requirements he must fulfil before becoming a king. He must have the skills to fight in battle, and he must have a Queen with blood as blue as his. You, a member of the royal guard, are assigned to teach Jimin the ins and outs of combat. You are not scared of death, of blood, or of battle. What you are scared of however, is falling in love with Jimin, the one man your blood decrees you can never have.”

pairing: jimin x reader
genre: royalty ausmut, angst
wordcount: 26k

❀ 1 / 9 of my oneshot requests ❀

** warnings: this is angsty!, jimin is a light dom, slow burn, violence, mentions of blood, heavy themes, lots of drama, character death

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sometimes you just gotta indulge yourself with some modern buffstrid

GOT7 / Mafia AU – You start to have feelings for them after an arranged marriage

Request: The first reaction was so beautiful:) I would like to request another one: MafiaAu, Arranged Marriage, you start having feelings for him but don’t give in and admit it.:) So happy that you make reactions*_*            

Thank you for requesting, hope you enjoy!

TRIGGER WARNING! Some strong language and some violence

EXO VERSION IS HERE


Mark

Originally posted by jo-sielala

You two were supposed to sleep in the same bedroom but you kicked Mark out. Well, technically, he didn’t even suggest sleeping together, he just grabbed his stuff and slept in the guest bedroom next-door.

This worked well for about a month. But then, in the middle of the night, you heard your bedroom door open. Certain that someone was about to kidnap you, you opened your nightstand drawer to find the gun that your husband was forced to give you as a wedding gift.

“If it takes you this long to find the gun,” a familiar voice said. “Then you’ll be dead before you even open the drawer.”

“Mark?” you said, squinting at the dark silhouette that was making its way towards your bed. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve decided it’s not fair I have to sleep on the cheap guest room bed,” he said. “So I’m crashing here.”

“What—you can’t,” you started to panic. “Where am I supposed to sleep?”

“Um, wherever you want?” he said, putting his pillow and duvet onto your bed and climbing into it. You scooted to the very edge of the bed, further away from him. “Relax, I don’t bite. Unless you want me to.”

“Ugh,” you rolled your eyes. “You should have talked to me about this.”

“Why? Because you’re my wife and we’re supposed to make decisions together?”

“Yes, actually, that’s exactly why.”

“Well then, wife,” he said with a smirk. “If you’re so keen to pretend we’re happily married, you might as well sleep with me.”

“Excuse me?” you asked, shocked.

“I meant in the same bed,” Mark groaned. “Jesus.”

You huffed. “I’m not sleeping with you.”

“Then leave because I’m not going anywhere.”

You couldn’t believe how rude he was being by just barging in like that, although the sensible part of your brain knew that sleeping with him in the same bed would be inevitable sooner or later. So, you chose to stay and sleep miles away from him, on the different side of the bed.

In the morning, however, his arms were around you and you were cuddled into his chest as if the two of you were really just married and overwhelmed by your love. Once you opened your eyes and realized how close you two were, you jumped back in disgust, waking him up and making him laugh for almost five minutes straight.

“You’re such a child,” Mark finally said through laughter.

“How am I a child?” you asked grumpily.

“Freaking out at the slightest touch,” he said, getting up from the bed, too. “You can’t even make eye contact with me for longer than five seconds.”

Suddenly overcome with anger that he had legitimate proof for calling you a child, you strutted up to him confidently and before you could talk yourself out of it, you stood on your tippy-toes and kissed him on the lips without a warning.

You pulled away a second later before he could even understand what happened. “How’s that for a child?”

Mark regained his balance.

“Wasn’t so bad,” he said, taking a step closer to you. “But let me show you how it’s really done.”

With that, he leaned down to connect your lips again, only this time, the kiss was deeper and much more intimate. And it finally made you realize that maybe the only reason why you tried to avoid Mark wherever you went wasn’t because you hated him. Maybe it was because you were afraid to develop feelings for him.

And after he pulled away from the kiss with the biggest smirk on his face, you realized it was too late. The feelings were already there.

“Cat’s got your tongue?” Mark winked at you after you haven’t said anything for almost a minute.

“Whatever,” you replied and turned around dramatically to leave the room.

read PART TWO of this reaction here


JB

Originally posted by noxarcanax

You were afraid of him. You’ve seen him with a gun and you knew he could control it. The two of you were only married for a month and you were afraid that if you made him angry, he’d use his talent with guns on you.

You begged your parents to choose a different partner for you but they seemed to think that no one would take care of their daughter better than the heir of the biggest Mafia family in the city. You had no say in this and were basically kicked out of your parent’s house right into the house of your new husband who was rarely ever home anyway.

One of the nights when you were all alone in your huge mansion, you thought you heard steps coming from the kitchen. Knowing very well that it was impossible for anyone to be walking around here this late, you ignored it, thinking it was just your over-active imagination playing a trick on you.

You went to the bathroom to get ready for bed, and once you finished your night routine and were about to head to the bedroom, you heard steps again. Only this time, they were coming from the hallway outside of the bathroom. Carefully, you opened the door, wanting to take a look what was making the noise, but you didn’t manage to have enough time to do that.

You felt something cold against your head and a strong body pushed you flat against the wall.

“Where is Jaebum?” a dangerously low voice asked.

Your heart almost started to beat out of your chest. There was an intruder in your house. And he was holding a gun to your head. And Jaebum wasn’t there. You were sure you’d die.

“I d-don’t know,” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Well, you better start thinking, bitch, or—”

“Or what?” a different voice called out from the end of the hallway. You quickly recognized your husband. “Back up from her if you want to live.

“Ah, there you are,” the intruder removed his gun from your temple and instead pointed it at Jaebum.

Jaebum, using the fact that the intruder made the critical mistake of removing his gun from his hostage, fired a shot from his own gun immediately.

The sight of a dead body falling right in front of you forced you to gasp loudly and grab onto the wall next to you so you wouldn’t fall down on the floor right next to him.

“Y/n,” Jaebum jogged towards you and wrapped his arms around your waist without a warning as he looked deep into your eyes. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

“N-no. I’m okay,” you said. “How did you get here so fast?”

“I was on my way home when I saw someone break into the house. I didn’t realize they’d attack you to get to me, I thought they were just… I don’t know,” Jaebum said, pulling away from you. “Honestly, I should have realized you were in danger and hurried, instead of just staying behind until the last moment.”

Your heart started to beat faster again. “It’s okay. You’re here now.”

“I’m here,” he nodded. “I promise this is the last time I leave you completely alone. I’m so sorry.”

You didn’t reply but instead focused on calming yourself so your hands would stop shaking. Jaebum noticed that and took your hands into his own.

“You’re safe now,” he whispered. “I’m here with you. You’re safe with me.”

And you knew he was right. And somehow you realized that there was no other place where you’d feel safer.


Jackson

Originally posted by irrational-obsessions-gottcha78

Jackson was going out of his way, attempting to get you to, at least, like him. Because you seemed to be fuming with rage whenever you saw him and he knew you had impeccable gun training, and even though he wasn’t so bad with guns himself, he still didn’t want to get into a fight with you.

“Look, I’m sorry you had to marry me,” he told you one day when he found you in the middle of your boxing practice. “And believe me, it takes a lot of guts to just come up to you and talk when you’re hitting that punching bag like that. I’m just hoping you don’t imagine it’s my face you’re kicking instead of the—”

“Don’t be so full of yourself,” you cut him off. “It’s just a punching bag.”

“Okay,” he raised his hands in defense. “Hey, when you’re done, why don’t we go do something!”

“Like what?” you asked. “Shoot some bad guys? Deal some drugs?”

Jackson sighed. “Look, I know you wanted to get out of the family business. And I know you feel like it’s my fault you had to marry me and now you’re stuck here, but… if you get to know me, I’m really not that bad. And I bet if you opened up, this life wouldn’t suck that much, either.”

You stopped punching the punching bag and turned to look at him.

“Jackson, I’ve killed more people by the age of ten than psychotic serial killers kill on murder sprees,” you told him with a straight face. “I know all about this life. Don’t act as if I’m new to this.”

“Alright. I was just trying to help,” he muttered quietly. “You didn’t answer my question, though.”

“I didn’t hear a question.”

Jackson never realized how much of an attitude you had and he had to be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying it a little.

“Let’s go out to have dinner,” he said, resisting the urge to smirk. “You and me.”

“If I say yes, will you leave and let me train in peace?”

“Absolutely.”

You sighed. “Fine, then. Seven o’clock. Don’t wear a suit or I’ll literally shoot you.”

Jackson laughed. “Noted. Dinner at seven.”

After he left, you realized you were kind of looking forward to the dinner with him. He did seem like a nice guy and he wasn’t thrown off by your coldness, which you appreciated since every other guy seemed to cower and run away when you looked at them wrong.

Maybe Jackson really wasn’t that bad. Not that you’d ever admit these thoughts out loud.


Jinyoung

Originally posted by defxoul

Jinyoung was just as awkward as you were about this arranged marriage thing. You weren’t strictly against it because it was the norm in your family, but you weren’t excited about it either. You were actually pretty nervous, so to find out that your husband-to-be was just as nervous, was exhilarating.

After the wedding, the two of you stayed cautious of each other, not forgetting your manners, but also not being particularly keen on getting to know each other better. Until one day, both of you were assigned to do a job together. It was just a meeting with a foreign businessman but this would have been your first official outing since the wedding, so both of you needed to act like you were actually married and maybe even in love.

The night before the meeting, Jinyoung knocked on the door of your room.

“Come in!” you called out from the bed, where you’ve been trying to find the perfect jewelry to go with the dress you’d be wearing tomorrow.

Jinyoung entered and smiled at you awkwardly. “I was just wondering what color dress you’ll be wearing so I could match my tie.”

“Oh. Actually, I wasn’t sure. I was thinking either blue or white,” you told him as you got up from the bed and got two clothes hangers with the dresses out of your closet. “I also have a black one but—”

“Wear the white one,” he said before you could finish. “It accentuates your eyes.”

You never realized Jinyoung ever looked at you long enough to actually know the color of your eyes.

You looked down and nodded, hoping that you didn’t start blushing as you could already feel the hotness spread to your cheeks.

“So,” Jinyoung said, walking towards your bed and taking a seat on the very edge. “Are you nervous before tomorrow?”

“Actually, yeah,” you admitted, removing your jewelry box from the bed next to him, so you could sit there. “I’ve never done anything like this on my own. Usually, my dad or my uncle went with me.”

“Yeah, me too,” Jinyoung nodded. “But you won’t be alone this time, either. I’ll be there, too. And I think we can do it.”

“Really?” you smiled softly.

“Of course,” he replied, smiling, too. “You could just charm them with your looks, to be honest, and no negotiation would be necessary.”

Because of a huge smile spreading on your face, you turned to look away.

Jinyoung watched you for a moment and then looked down. “Is that the necklace you’ll be wearing?”

He was pointing at the small silver chain with a heart charm that your dad had given you for your eighteenth birthday.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “It’s my favorite one. Somehow I feel a little more confident when I wear it.”

“Can I put it on you to see what it looks like?”

You swallowed and, not finding your voice fast enough, just nodded.

Jinyoung took the necklace from you, his fingertips softly brushing against yours, creating a spark that almost caused you to flinch. You turned your back to him and Jinyoung slowly put the necklace around your neck. You breathed deeply at the feeling of cold metal against your skin but then almost suffocated when you felt his warm hands brush against your back when he finished clasping the necklace.

You turned around to look at him, too flustered to even smile.

Jinyoung watched your neck for a moment and then raised his glittering eyes to meet yours.

“You’re beautiful,” he said. “With or without the necklace.”

There was no doubt that you were blushing now. It felt as though your entire body was on fire and he didn’t even do anything. You never knew anyone could have this much effect on you and you weren’t sure if you enjoyed feeling this flustered after a single touch.


Youngjae

Originally posted by seventheavenly

Both of you were rarely home. Youngjae was out handling unfinished business, while you were making new business deals. Your marriage united two of the most powerful Mafia families, so it was fairly easy to influence unsuspecting young businessmen.

Your last meeting of the week was with a young, promising businessman who was a little smugger than you liked.

“What do you say we get a coffee sometime next week?” he asked at the end of your meeting, a huge smirk on his face.

“I’m actually booked for the whole week,” you tried to remain polite even though you found him nothing short of disgusting.

“What about the week after that, then?” he persisted. “Come on, you have to have at least one afternoon free.”

“I’m not sure if you know this,” you started. “But I’m actually married.”

And you flashed him your ring that was ten times more expensive than necessary and weighed your hand down. It was impressive though, you could see that even the young businessman thought so. Your ring probably cost as much as he made in a year.

“Well,” the sleazeball smiled, nevertheless. “He doesn’t have to know.”

You were about to shoot him then and there, not even caring that you were in a restaurant full of people.

“Who doesn’t have to know what?” someone asked suddenly. You turned around to see Youngjae making his way towards you.

The annoying businessman looked at the approaching man with his eyebrows raised.

“Hello, my darling,” Youngjae told you once he reached you, and placed a quick kiss on your cheek.

This was the first time either one of you has touched each other in a somewhat intimate way and you were dizzy from the sudden display of affection despite it all being for show.

“This is my husband,” you told the businessman who kept staring at you with a confused expression.

“Nice to meet you,” the businessman said, extending his hand but Youngjae wasn’t even going to be polite.

“Are you done here? Can we go?” he asked you, leaving the other young man hanging. He removed his hand awkwardly.

Trying not to smile, you nodded. “Yes. I think we’re done here. Thank you for making time for the meeting.”

“Yeah,” the businessman scoffed as you and Youngjae walked away, his hand on your waist. “No problem.”

Once you and Youngjae were out of the restaurant, you turned to look at him with a playful smile. “How come you’re here?”

“I have a sensor that starts to vibrate whenever there’s a douchebag harassing my wife,” he told you with a straight face.

You didn’t know why, but hearing him call you his wife caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach and that feeling was so new that you almost stopped walking in shock.

“You okay?” Youngjae asked, noticing your weird expression.

“Yeah, yeah,” you nodded, trying to play it off. “Just tired. It was a long day.”

Youngjae smiled at you (cue another butterfly attack). “Let’s get you home, then.”


BamBam

Originally posted by bamethyst

BamBam probably wanted to get married even less than you. He enjoyed that single life and was known for having different female companions every night. Needless to say, he wasn’t exactly your dream husband.

You have expected him to stay exactly the same way after the wedding, and you knew you wouldn’t have a right to tell him that it wasn’t okay to see other people because the two of you weren’t really in love, and most arranged marriages that you knew of, only worked because both partners had the freedom to see other people.

Which is why when you called your mother one night, telling her how bored you were, her response “why don’t you hang out with your husband?” caused you to laugh loudly.

“He’s either out there working,” you told her. “Or with girls.”

Girls?” your mother repeated. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean exactly what you think I mean,” you said nonchalantly, not understand why she seemed so surprised by this.

“You mean he’s cheating on you?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that, considering we’re married but we’re… not really married, you know?”

“Hold on, honey,” your mum said suddenly. “Let me call you back.”

And she hung up without explaining anything.

You waited for her to call you back for at least an hour before you realized she must have forgotten to do that. Wouldn’t have been the first time.

You sighed and were about to head to the kitchen to look for a quick snack when the door of your bedroom opened and a very angry looking BamBam entered.

“I just got off the phone with your mother,” he said and suddenly you went cold. “Why the hell does she think I’m cheating on you?”

“You-you’re not?” you asked, awkwardly, taken aback by the news that your mother actually called him.

“What the fuck, Y/n? Of course not!” he shouted. “Why the fuck would I cheat on you? I’m your husband!”

“But we’re not—we’re not really… I mean, you can do whatever you—”

“No, that’s not how marriage fucking works!” BamBam continued. He looked furious and you weren’t sure if you’ve ever seen him like this. “I take it seriously. And I would very much appreciate it if you weren’t walking around telling your relatives how shitty of a husband I am.”

“Wha—I don’t even refer to you as my husband when I’m talking to them,” you told him a little louder, too. “I don’t understand why you’re freaking out about this, I literally just gave you the green light to go out with whoever you want.”

“I don’t want to go out with anyone,” he answered, still just as angry as before. “You’re my wife. I’m supposed to go out with you.”

Your heart started to beat faster. “You said it as if being married was a job.”

“It is,” BamBam nodded and then sighed deeply. When he spoke again, his voice wasn’t as loud. “Okay, I’m sorry I yelled at you but I just… I’m really kind of hurt that you think this badly of me. I mean, I know we’re probably not as close as a husband and wife should be—”

“Probably,” you repeated sarcastically.

“Let me finish,” he said. “I’m trying to make this work. I know it sounds weird since I’m barely ever home – which is temporary, trust me, there’s just some work that I need to take care of – but I do want to get to know you. And if it seems to you like I regret getting married, then you’re wrong. I don’t. I’m happy I did. It was about time.”

“Maybe you’d be happier if you could actually choose your own partner instead of having your parents pick one for you,” you said.

“Sure,” BamBam shrugged his shoulders. “But in this case, I think my parents did a pretty good job choosing a partner for me.”

A smile appeared on your face before you could stop it and this caused BamBam to smile back at you.

“I’m free tonight,” he said. “If you don’t have any plans, I could take you out for dinner. How does that sound?”

“That sounds great,” you said honestly, already starting to feel somewhat excited.

“Okay,” he said and turned around to leave your room but then stopped. “Hey, and please call your mum, yeah? I don’t want her to think her son-in-law is an absolute piece of garbage.”

You laughed at this. “Will do. Sorry about all of that.”

“No worries,” he said. “I’ll be seeing to prove to you that I’m very faithful.”

You thought you were somewhat excited before. Well, now you were basically over the moon.


Yugyeom

Originally posted by pizzawasabi

You knew Yugyeom since you were nine years old. Both of your families were really close, your older sister even married his older brother so it was only logical that you’d be marrying Yugyeom once you were eighteen. And you didn’t fight this, you knew he was kind, sincere, and hard-working, which was more than enough for you.

You weren’t very close to him, though. Which is why, although it was awkward at the wedding, the first few months after the wedding were even worse.

You wanted to get to know him but somehow it seemed as though he was avoiding you.

Finally, one night, three months after the wedding, you were done with it. You stormed into his bedroom, startling him, and stopped in front of him angrily.

But then you realized you haven’t really given much thought to the actual words you wanted to say to him, so you just stared at him for a moment.

“Are you okay?” he asked, awkwardly.

“What’s wrong with you?” you asked finally. And only because he looked really taken aback by your words, you realized that you probably phrased it wrong. “I mean, wh-why have we not once had a conversation after saying ‘I do’ at our wedding?”

“Oh,” Yugyeom said. “I, uh, I didn’t realize you wanted to talk to me.”

“Why wouldn’t I? We’re married and I don’t even know what your favorite color is.”

“It’s blue,” he answered. “But I’m not sure why that matters.”

“I’m just trying to get to know you,” you said, sighing once you realized that this was pointless. “But I guess it’s whatever. I’ll leave.”

“No, wait, I’m sorry,” Yugyeom said quickly. You stopped. “It’s just really weird for me.”

“It shouldn’t be,” you said.

“My parents met because of an arranged marriage,” he said. “They may appear like they’re in love in public but I don’t think I’ve ever seen them actually talk to each other at home.”

This was news for you. Slowly, you sat down on his bed next to him, wanting him to keep going.

“So, I don’t know how to do this marriage thing, either,” he said. “I’m sorry if I appeared cold.”

“No, that’s okay,” you said. “I didn’t know that about your family. Tell me more about them.”

And he did. You finally got him to open up by asking questions. He was a little cautious at first but then he seemed to relax and the two of you sat cozily on his bed for at least three hours, just talking and getting to know each other as if you were on your first date.

By the end of the night, when you were too sleepy to even form sentences anymore, you rested your head comfortably against the headboard of his bed and listened to him tell you about his childhood pets.

“Hey,” he said softly, a few seconds later. “Did you come into my room to fall asleep while I talked?”

You smiled, suddenly too tired to open your eyes that you haven’t even realized you closed in the first place.

“Yeah, sorry,” you said. “I should probably head back to my room.”

“You can stay here,” he suggested. “I can keep talking to help you fall asleep.”

“That would be nice,” you admitted and he proceeded to tell you about the day he had, obviously skipping the extremely violent parts so you wouldn’t suddenly jolt awake.

Right before you fell asleep, you realized that this evening, in Yugyeom’s room, was one of the coziest nights of your life, and butterflies fluttered in your stomach when you thought about having nights like that every night for the rest of your life.


credits go to the original owners of the gifs!

You can send your requests here!

the first and only time yakov slips and accidentally calls yuri “yurio” he is met with a long, blustering stare and discovers, for the first time, a feeling not unlike the quiet horror and resignation a crab spider must feel when she realizes she is about to be devoured by her young.

“ah, yurochka- ”

coach,” he says bitingly.

a faint irritability rises in the back of yakov’s mind when yuri rises to his full height; why can’t he maintain such an impeccable posture during the training that counts? what’s wrong with the name yurio anyway? and why couldn’t yura just be like the diva-crybaby hybrid vitya was—will always be—and why must he instead be such an exhausting composite of refined spitefulness and unrestraining savagery?

he braces himself for the verbal tirade that’s sure to follow, but a cheery voice floats from the other side of the rink, “yurio! hey, wanna work on our quads together?”

and yakov watches, in disbelief, as his pupil immediately deflates to pivot on a blade and call back, “you better not fuck around and land all your flips this time if you think you’re ever gonna beat me, katsudon…”

sometimes crab spiders are eaten by their young, and other times crab spiders find themselves saved by unassuming japanese men with a talent for pacifying turbulent personalities

anonymous asked:

I wish you would write a fic where.... Jyn is Cassian's bodyguard. (We all know that she's way better in a fist fight). Standard "important person falls in live wth bodyguard, and vice versa," but gender swapped from the norm because that works better for these two. Of course with that way you have of making standard tropes non-standard that you do so well.

Well, I can’t resist when someone sneaks a compliment into a request. 

“Your life is worthless.”

“My life is worthless.”

“There is nothing that should make you hesitate to lay your life down in service.”

“There is nothing that should make me hesitate to…”

And it went like that, every day. Every ten seconds. The infinite hourglass of her mind. The sand spilled out, my life is worthless, flipped back over, running down again, there is nothing that should make me hesitate to lay down my life in service. Flip. Flip. Flip.

Cassian was at first too proud accept the careful watch of a woman as his captain of the guard, too close at all times, shoving her body in front of knives and arrows and fists to save him. 

Jyn had been trained to do so, and was offended that he hadn’t wanted the parts of her that were useful; her life was utterly worthless as years of training had confirmed, but her combat skills made her useful. She wanted to be given purpose. 

Cassian didn’t like the look of it. Her life at his feet. Her assessing mind shuffling him around into safe places. 

Maybe compassion disguised itself as pride.

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Popular | Chapter 9

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Avenger!Reader

Prompt: Tony has made a bet to see who could end up with the most fans, out of the Avengers, by the end of the month. Bucky takes it just to piss Sam off and Reader really wants to prove that she isn’t the least popular. Bucky and Reader team up to be a fake couple in order to beat the other Avengers, agreeing to split the prize at the end. Will it all work out?

A/N: Thanks for your patience while I got this out! We only have two more chapters left. I appreciate all of you reading ♥♥♥

Warnings: Panicking and confusion

Series Masterlist

Originally posted by gliceria

Natasha’s Patience

Bucky felt like he swallowed a large stone.

“No no no, doll please! Please, I love you. You have to know!” He gripped onto the mainframe for his life, unwilling to release the comm. You sounded so far away. He couldn’t even fully comprehend what you said last to him. Any attempts to reconnect only left Bucky with more static and meaningless sounds. Steve had to pry him away from the cockpit, doing his best to calm the man down.

The rest of the crew filed in quickly. “Please try and figure out what’s wrong!” Bucky called after them. He tried getting up again, but was pushed back down by Steve.

“Steve, we gotta try again. What if something bad happened? I can’t forgive myself if she’s gotten hurt, oh my god Steve.” Bucky was gasping as he tried to reach you. Wherever you were.

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Remie Goins - Harlequinade

honestly the cleanest junior ballerina that I have ever seen…her training is impeccable. And she’s so cute!!!

Chloe Decker and the Heir of Merlin [Lucifer/Harry Potter]

Happy Deckerstar Summer Exchange to @kirayukimuras! I was intending this to be longer, but then summer turned insane… alas. Anyway, yes, the promised Deckerstar Harry Potter AU. (I have to tag @lightbringersamael for reasons, since we invented the details of this verse together.) Enjoy!


The choking grit of stone and smoke and dust, the burnt-ozone afterglare of spells, the pale, tremulous sunlight of the first day of the rest of everyone’s lives, bear down on Chloe Decker’s shoulders as she wades through the rubble of the courtyard. Hogwarts is blasted and broken, but still standing, still standing, and Voldemort is dead. It sounds like a dream, it sounds like a trick, he’ll spring up and order the battle resumed – but he doesn’t. It’s going to take a while for everyone to believe it. And yet just now, as the recovery of bodies continues, Chloe has only one thought – and one fear.

They said they last saw him around here, dueling his mother. There’s a particularly deep crater that could have been made by a giant, or a curse, or – Chloe’s breath catches painfully in her chest, she stuffs her wand in the filthy sleeve of her robes so she can have both hands for climbing. Reaches the spot, and looks down.

“Lucifer?”

There’s nothing. No sign. The broken rock shifts, and falls.

“Maze?” Chloe coughs, looks around for Lucifer’s best friend, his loyal shadow, co-leader of the “cool Slytherins,” the two of them among the few from their house who stayed back to fight. But then, Lucifer has been pushing the Carrows’ buttons all year, and Chloe doesn’t want to believe half the whispers about what they were doing to him – scion of the anciently pureblood Morningstars, who claim to trace their descent from Merlin himself, Lucifer’s defiance is unfathomable to them. They will have him or break him or both. When Chloe thinks of the bright-eyed, eleven-year-old boy named Samael, who she met just five years ago, wonders how they can only be sixteen with everything that has happened to them, everything they have done and not said, it makes something close to agony rise in her chest. He has to be here. He has to be somewhere.

“LUCIFER!”

Her shouts rings away across the blasted towers of Hogwarts without an answer.

Chloe takes out her wand again and starts levitating the rubble – it would be quicker to just Reducto her way through this, but she can’t take the risk of hitting him if he’s somewhere under there, grievously wounded and unconscious but still alive. If Harry can survive, why can’t he? She knows that Potter, a year ahead of her in Gryffindor, the captain of her Quidditch team, more or less a friend, is special, the Boy Who Lived – no one else is getting hit by Avada Kedavra once, let alone twice, and living to tell the tale. Surely Charlotte Morningstar, devoted Death Eater as she might otherwise be, isn’t killing her own son. Chloe can’t give up.

Swish and flick, she thinks, remembering first-year Charms classes. Swish and flick. Up go the pieces. There is spell damage everywhere. Whoever was fighting here was unleashing advanced and esoteric curses – far beyond O.W.L., possibly even beyond N.E.W.T., and Lucifer always did like to push boundaries, refine technique. Got detention at least a dozen times for being caught by Filch in the Restricted Section. None of it ever stopped him. Very little ever did – does. He is one of the most talented, and potentially deadly dangerous, wizards that Hogwarts has ever taught. Chloe knows there will be absolutely no tears shed if he’s discovered dead, if they’ve gotten a two-for-one special, taken down both You-Know-Who and a likely heir to the throne. That’s not Lucifer, that’s not the Lucifer she knows, who hates his insanely wealthy Slytherin family and the Dark Arts and everything they’ve chosen to be after they cast him out, but it’s hard to see past. He hasn’t made it any easier.

There’s only one block remaining to be moved. The rest of the castle is still being searched. This doesn’t have to be the last chance, but it feels like it.

Chloe’s voice comes out as a hoarse whisper. “Wingardium Leviosa.”

The heavy stone floats aside like a feather.

There’s nothing below but scorch marks.

Chloe’s breath feels driven out of her as if she’s taken an Impediment Jinx directly to the chest. She goes to her knees, staring down at the soot-stained tomb, knowing that is what it is, that Lucifer is dead, he is dead, and she is never going to see him again. The Ministry can breathe their sigh of relief. The peace can start. This is the happy ending.

Chloe remains where she is, not moving, until she can hear voices calling for her. Dan and Ella, by the sounds of things. They stayed to fight with the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, respectively, and all three of them have spent quite a while living in the Room of Requirement with the other remnants of Dumbledore’s Army. Dan never understood, to say the least, Chloe’s friendship with Lucifer. Ella was more inclined to give him a chance (then again, Ella and Luna Lovegood are good friends, so that’s just Ella). And now Chloe gets to tell them. Has to tell them, and herself, and make it real.

“He’s dead,” she says aloud, and stands up, as Dan and Ella come clambering over the stones. “Lucifer’s dead.”

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tainbocuailnge  asked:

yo can you tell some more stories about fionn mccool? i know the one where he gets cucked and the one where he dresses up as a baby but there's no way that's all

why, YES, I am always up to share more about my favorite Irish mythos character and professional baby, Fionn mac Cumhaill. Ok, SO, Fionn Gets Cucked and Fionn Avoids A Fight By Dressing As A Baby are two of Fionn’s adventures, but he’s got a lot more! Also, those two happen quite late in the Fenian Cycle, when Fionn is already the leader of the Fianna Knights. There’s actually a lot of stories about Fionn, since, much like our good friend Cu Chulainn is the central hero of the Ulster Cycle, Fionn is the central hero of the Fenian Cycle. Today, I want to share with you some of the stories detailing the origins of Fionn, and how he becomes a professional baby, but also, so you all know that, despite my friendly mockery of him, the dude is a bona fide badass (and as I’ve said before, my favorite Irish mythos duder). Also, you’ll see some parallels between Fionn and Cu, but more of that later! So sit tight, get some cookies, and lets get WILD.

OUR STORY BEGINS with the Fianna Knights, commanded by one man named Cumhaill, which is literally pronounced “Cool”, so you KNOW we are in for a good ass tale when the first dude we meet is literally named Cool. Coolio had the hots for this druidess named Muirne Munchaem, daughter of a kickass High Druid, Tagd mac Nuadat, because she was really beautiful and a cool druid and, well, he probably had a thing for necks because Muirne Munchaem literally means “beautiful neck”, which is what she was known for, her beautiful neck, which is what mythos is known for, for being as subtle as a club to the balls with its names and foreshadowing. Speaking of getting hit in the balls with a cudgel, that is EXACTLY what happened to Cumhaill when he asked for Muirne’s hand in marriage. HOWEVER, when you are the leader of the Fianna and your name is fuckin’ COOL, one or six club strikes to the groin isn’t enough to dissuade you. So did Cool insist with tenacious fervor and, aided with the power of True Love, eventually changed Tagd’s mind? Nah, fuck that noise, my dude just snuck into Tagd’s castle during the night and stole Muirne away, who apparently was pretty ok with this. Druid Wife GET.

Now, why was Tagd so opposed to this marriage? See, Tagd used his Magic 8-Ball one day and asked it “Hey 8-Ball, what would happen if my daughter Muirne got married?”, and the 8-Ball, ever so wise, replied in its usual white letters with a blue triangle background: “YOU WILL LITERALLY LOSE EVERYTHING YOU OWN”. Oh ok, well, see, I can kinda understand why Tagd answered requests for marriage with a literal club to the testicles now. Problem is, Coolio had indeed already stolen his very willing daughter, so, fuck, damn, step 1 failed. Tagd pitched the mother of all tantrums and went to the High King, Conn Cétchathach, which literally means “Conn of the Hundred Battles”, holy FUCK that is a cool ass name, and tattled on Coolio. Conn said “that’s not very cash money of you, Cumhaill”, and put a price on his head. Thus begins the Hunt For Cool.

What’s not cool is that Cool eventually gets hunted down and killed by a FILTHY TRAITOR named Goll mac Morna, a Fianna Knight who saw this opportunity, with Cool having been outlawed, to kill him and take control of the Fianna, which he did, but the problem is, Muirne had already been left pregnant, so she went back to her dad, but dad was vewy vewy angwy, so he ordered for her to burned at the stake. So she was like nah son and druidly ran away, hid in the forest, and went to her sister, Bodhmall the Druidess, and asked for a solid, if she could raise his kid so they wouldn’t kill him while she goes and hides. Aunt Bodhmall was like sure thing man I love kids, so the kid was born and she named him Demne. Bodhmall lived with her husband Fiacal and her BFF and companion, the warrior woman Liath Luachra, Bodhmall and Liath grab the little Demne and go live in the forest, in seclusion from society, to train him and raise him, just like in the animes.

Now, there’s something YOU, the reader, needs to know about Irish mythos to understand this wholly. This is what the modern reader thinks a druid looks like:

This is what a druid actually was:

Honestly, these dudes and dudettes were the concept of decimating ass given human bodies so they could find asses to decimate. You did NOT fuck with druids. They were warriors through and through, and some of the FINEST. So Demne here was being raised by his two mommies, both of which were IMPECCABLE ANUS ANNIHILATORS, being trained in the art of Rectal Ruination, and when Demne was old enough, the three of them, like any loving family did, went on adventures togethers, to punch magical shit and suplex brigands. Demne was a very strong child, but there was something odd about him: His hair whitened prematurely. So here you had this anime ass kid with white hair kicking ass with his two POWERMOMS and kicking so much toosh under their tutelage that he earned a nickname, like all prominent warriors did back then.

His nickname was Fionn, which literally means “white”, “pale”, and “bright”, because of his white hair which flowed beautifully in the field of battle. Discarding his childhood name “Demne”, Fionn, son of Cumhaill, or Fionn mac Cumhaill, was born!

Fionn mac Cumhaill, trained by two Powermoms and aided by his heritage of asskickery from a father literally named Cool, surely had a colorful future in front of him… And that was the problem. Fionn was becoming too famous. Becoming famed is kind of a POOR CHOICE when you are actually trying to hide from people that are trying to kill you, and hey, speaking of which, HERE THEY COME.

So here’s Fionn, right, kicking ass left and right, but due to all this asswhooping, his name started spreading and people started to wonder, hey, maybe this Fionn guy is the son of that Cool Dude that we were ordered to kill, we should go and check this out so we can get the rest of the reward money! Fionn’s powermoms notice that people are starting to swarm the area, looking for him, and realize that their combined kickassery is playing against them. “FIONN”, bellowed Powermom Bodhmall, “THOU ART A GROWN ASS MAN, PACK YO SHIT AND LEAVE”. Powermom Duo had already taught everything they knew to young Fionn, so he left to find his own way, as his moms ordered him, and thus took to wandering. Some time passes and Fionn realizes “MAN I CAN SURE KICK A THOUSANDS ASSES BUT I AM DUMB AS FUCK”, and he was pretty insecure about this because, while far from being dumb, Fionn understood that being raised in a forest away from society by two warriors wasn’t exactly a normal upbringing, and since he did want to take back the Fianna Knights that his father had led, he needed BRAINS for that shit, because you can’t lead men with just MUSCLE and HUSTLE. So Fionn becomes the disciple of the poet Finn Eces. Some people say his name is Finegas, but those people are HISTORIANS and so they don’t matter. So Finn Eces teaches Fionn cool shit unrelated to decimating people in combat, and Fionn actually likes it, it’s like, wow, I know exactly 500 different ways to kill a man with his own spine, but I didn’t know the name of this cool ass flower yesterday! I love this purple flower. 

Finn Eces was on his own quest, by the way, because if you had a name in Celtic/Old Irish mythos, you had some big ass fuckquest to accomplish, whether it be a personal big ass fuckquest or a more important big ass fuckquest. My dude’s quest was that he really coveted Fintan mac Bochra, better known as the Salmon of Knowledge, said to grant whoever ate it with all the knowledge in the world. He had spent seven years looking for the little bastard, and one day, he actually caught the salmon. Overjoyed, the old Finn Eces hands the Salmon to Fionn and tells him to cook it and to NOT EAT IT. “Aye aye cap’n” says Young Pale and off he goes to cook the hell out of this fish for Sensei. While he is cooking it, Fionn uses his thumb to touch the fish and check how well done it is. This is where shit gets Mythological: The salmon’s body fat was dripping (because it was being cooked), and the salmon got very hot, so when Fionn used his thumb to check it, he ended up touching some of the salmon’s dripping fat. The THING IS, all of the salmon’s wisdom had been concentrated in that one drop of fish fat, and ALSO, again, the fish got VERY HOT, so Fionn burned his idiot thumb and immediately, by reflex, sucked on it, thus, ingesting the fish fat that contained all of the wisdom, THUS, acquiring all of the wisdom. MYTHOS.

Fionn finished cooking the fish and brought it to his master, but Finn-Sensei told him to STOP RIGHT THERE and to look him straight in the eyes. Finn Eces noticed that Fionn’s eyes weren’t those of an idiot child anymore, but rather, they were bright and enlightened, endowed with wisdom he never had seen before. “FIONN”, yelled Sensei, “DID YOU EAT THE FISH”. 

“NO, LOOK, IT’S WHOLE” explained Fionn, “It’s just, I burned my finger and sucked on it”. Apparently, Finn Eces was both a very smart man and a kind one too, because he immediately understood that the Salmon had given Fionn his wisdom, and he didn’t really mind. He was like, cool, grats dude, you were Chosen By The Fish, so you can eat the fish. Fionn itadakimasu’d and ate the whole salmon, thus acquiring all of the Salmon’s knowledge (the fat of the fish contained its WISDOM, the meat contains the KNOWLEDGE). Having consumed the whole thing, Fionn became Super Mega Fionn, and thus acquired his super power: ALL of the world’s knowledge and wisdom. Well, to be more specific, he has ACCESS to all of it. It’s like when they installed “how to not suck at flying helicopters” into Neo and Trinity’s brains in The Matrix. Fionn pretty much had access to the Akashic Records on demand, and could retrieve any knowledge and wisdom he wanted. How did he do this? By sucking on his thumb, where he first burned himself and sucked the fish fat.

This is why I call him a professional baby, not just because my dude literally dressed as one that one time. Fionn’s superpower is literally to know everything and anything he needs, as long as he sucks his thumb like the idiot baby he is. I love Fionn so much.

What Don Juan Riberto REALLY doin in town:

I step out of my studio. The girl is still there. Having been coddled all her life, she is strong. This does not make sense, but I guess whatever. “Take me on as your apprentice,” she implores.

“What are three words that describe you?” I ask, proving I am kinder than you initially thought, and/or desperate to continue working.

“Comical, romantic, and gritty,” responds the girl.  I look at her furiously.

I walk down the street into town. The silver maples sway in the breeze, and I curse them for their slow growth rate. Such plants only absorb 3% - 6% percent of the suns energy, leaving the rest to beat down on my face like a laser. I sigh. I know there will be more lasers, t(b-h).

The market is but a short train ride away. I do not emotionally connect to the announcer, however, and miss my stop. I have to switch to a bus. THIS announcer whispers to me, sultry, “Northbound.” I died of pleasure right there at the sound of the voice’s impeccable voice acting training, but I will not include this line, as it is inappropriate here, only loosely related to the rest of the paragraph. The announcer breaks into a rap.

I get off the bus in the market place. I approach a vender, and ask for my usual $115 worth of meat and vegetables.

“No,” says the vender. “For we have had our approved organic seal revoked from our dairy products.”

“No,” I retort. “That sentence should go AFTER sentence 24.”

“Okay,” he says. “No, for we have had our approved organic seal revoked from our dairy products.”

“Damn…” I murmur. “Well, do you have any Gulf Toadfish in?”

“No, sorry,” the vender shakes his head. “No fish. Their population has been going down, do to excessive cockblocking by the bottle-nosed dolphins.”

“DAMN!” I (com)pound a fist against the table at an annual rate.

“Sorry,” the vender shrugged. “May I interest you in some artisanal sea sponges? They are the alive dominators and, why, I’d go so far as to say they are the organism in charge!”

My ears perk up. “Artisinal, you say?” I lean over to examine the experimental tray. I frown. “Did you…roll and boil these yourself?”

The vender is quiet a moment. “Welllllll….no. But they are heavenly over a bed of soybeans and 151 bushels of corn!”

“DDDDDAAAAMMMNNNN!!!!!” I scream up at the heavens, where I know the Stick Man hears me.

I run off into the; near-by, road. I plunge my hands 69 feet, nay, a mile, nay TEN MILES into my pockets. Why. Why me.

I sigh. Perhaps it is my ancestor’s fault…perhaps they used too many resources for me to be economically successful.  I hear a boat whistle far in the distance. I close my eyes. In the end…I know I have no one to blame but myself.

@temptedbythelight

Hux was alone in Snoke’s desert fortress, his solitary footsteps echoing in dimly-lit corridors that and he was about ten minutes away from turning on his heels and having the entire ugly place destroyed – and Kylo Ren along with it, as it happens. It is lucky, then, that he finds him first.

He was passing in front of a grey door when he hears it – a distant keening, low and desperate. It was quick work to slip his vibro-blade between the door and the wall; high on victory, he didn’t even think that whatever’s on the other side could be dangerous, and by the time his eyes met Ren’s feral gaze, it was too late.

Hux’s first instinct was to recoil in fear. He hadn’t seen Ren since Starkiller, over two years ago, and while there had been plenty of rumours of Snoke’s enforcer and the occasional sighting by Order members, he’d always personally thought that Snoke had his unstable apprentice killed. Once, about six months after Ren’s departure, he dared ask about him during an audience with the Supreme Leader; he still remembered Snoke’s blood-chilling smile, the curve of his lips and the gleam in his eyes as he said, “Don’t worry, General. Kylo Ren will not be a problem anymore.”

But Kylo Ren was alive, that much was evident, and he was trembling as he rocked back and forth on his threadbare mattress on the floor, hair a wild mess around his face and eyes like dark pools, deep and wild; and all Hux could think was that he was about to die.

Then Ren raised his head and Hux got a long look at his face – scarred and pale and utterly terrified – and at the black muzzle around his jaw, and he thought, Oh.

When he’d been a child, growing up on Arkanis, the Commandant had kept hounds. They had been beautiful beasts, large and intelligent and impeccably trained, and devoted above all. Devoted, and affectionate, and loyal. Steady hands and a little firmness go a long way, his father used to say, and Hux didn’t hold much affection for the old man, but is a fact that no one could commend a subordinate’s allegiance quite like the Commandant did.

He took a step inside, small but deliberate, keeping his eyes fixed on Ren’s, never letting his gaze waver. A beacon of security and authority and calm.

“Ren,” he called out, his voice as steady as his walk. His words don’t matter; it’s the tone that does.

amorlinguarum  asked:

Why do you think Catelyn would have been the best match for Jaime?

Because Jaime is shaped around Cersei. Even in the hypothetical where there’s enough space between them that they can’t continue that unhealthy relationship, their personal development was complimentary in irreversible ways. Catelyn, while relatively well-adjusted overall and with some specific differences due to their respective environments, is a lot like Cersei, enough that he would feel compatible with her. Even in formative family dynamics, right - they’re the oldest of three and lost their mothers at young ages. Catelyn is more adaptable where Cersei is aggressive, still waters running deep rather than “all wildfire,” but it comes from a similarly strong will.

Likewise, I think Catelyn would be quite happy with him, which is of course just as important. She’d have started out on the right foot with him, and Jaime would respond to that. Jaime has the outward qualities that attracted a teenage Catelyn to Brandon Stark. Cat’s affection for Brandon was in part because they were engaged and she was optimistic about their life together, but he was also physically skilled, handsome, hot-headed, and charming. Jaime is totally that type. But, unbeknownst to everyone but eagle-eyed Aunt Genna, Jaime also has some of the inner personality traits that allowed her to build that really solid bond with Ned. (So much great mirroring in that generation of characters, even if it doesn’t come out while they’re all alive at the same time.)

And as much as I wouldn’t want to inflict the Lannisters as in-laws on anyone, let alone a character I like, I think Catelyn is the kind of person who would be most equipped to handle life at Casterly Rock. She is impeccably trained at her social duties, and has that touch for reading power dynamics and knowing how to handle people, when to charm them and when to duck and cover. Unfortunately, she’d probably fall in line with the Tyrion scapegoating - I mean, she got in on the Tyrion scapegoating when it wasn’t a way to stay off of Tywin’s bad worse side, and her habitual behavior toward Jon didn’t do her any favors with anyone - but Jaime at least can afford to be straight with her if he tells her to knock it off, so it’d at least be possible to address.

Also Jaime tends not to throw his own kids out of windows! So that’s just better for everyone.

Tag, You're It (for the prompt "in between.")

Rose Tyler was pinned down. Back literally against a wall, with nowhere to turn. The room was a loud, smoky haze of black lights and glowing neon. She feared attack from the left flank and from above, and she knew she was a sitting duck where she was, so she backed up, weapon in hand, wondering how on parallel earth she’d managed to get herself into such a mess. She’d never hear the end of it if she didn’t prevail. She had a reputation to uphold. Because when Rose Tyler played laser tag, she was in it to win it.

Rose was the undisputed laser tag champion of the family. She owed it to her impeccable timing and Torchwood training. The Doctor rarely tagged her. Tony couldn’t always keep up. He complained that she never let him tag her. She said he had to run faster.

Today she had to admit, the Doctor had brought his A game to the free for all in the “war room.” He’d tagged get a couple of times. But Tony hadn’t gotten her yet, and she intended to keep it that way. She’d be more than happy to let him tag her.

He just had to catch her first.

She backed up slowly and was startled when she collided with a tall, immovable object wearing a blue pinstriped suit and converse. The laser tag vest looked ridiculous with the ensemble but no less weird than the skirt and blouse she wore with hers. (The decision to go to the laser tag arcade had been a last minute one.)

“Hello,” the Doctor said, eyebrow raised, smirking deliciously. She stood between him and the back wall, and she realized he had her trapped. She expected him to tag her right there, at point blank range.

Instead, he took her hand and pulled away from the wall, pulled her closer, and she quite unexpectedly found herself being snogged throughly in the hazy dark black lit room.

And also quite unexpectedly, as he snogged her so deeply and so well, she felt the buzz of a laser hit to her vest. She startled, and pulled away from the kiss to see her sweet, angelic little brother, in between her and the exit, laughing his head off, pointing his laser rifle at her.

“Oh, yeah!” Tony crowed happily.

And then he did the most vile, despicable thing.

He high-fived the Doctor.

And then he hollered “Thanks!”

Rose didn’t know which one to tag first. Her conniving brother? Her duplicitous husband? These thoughts were going through her mind as they ran off cackling like loons while she chased after them. They were fast, and gone two separate directions, before the five seconds of lockdown on her blaster expired.

*****

She was still glaring at both of them as they left Laser Blast Arcade to get fish and chips.

“Seriously, you snogged me as a distraction. You snogged me for the sole purpose of deception.”

“Deception wasn’t the sole purpose,” the Doctor said. “I quite enjoyed snogging you because…you’re Rose Tyler. And you enjoyed the snog. I could tell.”

“I did no such thing.”

“Your tongue says one thing now, but believe me it was communicating something quite different then.” She noticed that he still had that damned smirk on his face. “The way I see it, Tony finally got to tag you, I got to snog you, and you got a very satisfactory, in-the-heat-of-battle snog. Which I know you enjoy. We’ve done that enough times in the heat of actual battle, so I know I’m right. There are only winners in this situation, my love.”

She made a little scoffing sound. He looked so smug. Her brother looked pretty smug as well.

“Besides, you still got the most hits. See?” He produced their score card, with her listed (with the code name of ‘Nebula’) first, the Doctor (code name ‘Storm’) listed sixth, and Tony (code name 'Maverick’) listed second to last. He leaned in and whispered, “You’re brilliant at it , but you take it a wee bit too seriously. I mean, he’s six.”

She looked down at her little brother her beamed and said, “I got you good, Rosie.”

Rose rolled her eyes and grinned. “I will concede that I could possibly be competitive.” The Doctor snorted laughter. “But you still owe me chips for tricking me.”

“All’s fair in love and war,” the Doctor proclaimed with a grin, holding the door open for Tony and Rose.

Rose nodded, laughing and taking Tony’s hand and the Doctor’s hand, content to walk in between two of the most important men in her universe.

@timepetalsprompts

When People Compete in a Race You’re Not Running

I think every dog owner has run into “that” dog owner at least once in their life. You know who I’m talking about. Their hair is perfect, their outfit is on point, they are in perfect shape, and they’ve been blessed with their heart dog, who is impeccably trained. 

It doesn’t seem to matter how much you grow as a dog owner, because you will always run into someone who is further along, more experienced, and better equipped. 

Honestly, the more you grow as a dog owner, the easier it is to ignore the people ahead of you. The people who are hard to ignore are the people who jog by you with their dog by their side in perfect sync, and smirk at you as you struggle to keep your dog from chasing theirs. 

It’s embarrassing. You can’t help it. It’s hard to shake it off, even though you know you are doing everything right and that your dog just isn’t there yet. People like that are so detrimental toward your relationship with your dog, because they make you feel like dog training is a race, and that they’re winning. 

For the average pet owner, dog training is not a race. You are not competing, and you are not losing. Dog training should always be a journey you take with your dog, where you both gain knowledge and experience as you grow closer together. 

Let people compete. Let them run their race. There is nothing wrong with taking the scenic route. 

anonymous asked:

*small voice* do you mean to write the 101 dalmatians AU? It sounds lovely, I need more!

My hand slipped. It’s just the meet-cute, I don’t know how it happened but here it is. (I changed the dogs to be Alana and Margot because reasons). (x)

-x-

Alana is an exceedingly clever dalmatian.

She has always been, but since Will adopted her she has only grown more clever, between the tricks he teaches her and the lessons she teaches herself to keep a leg up (so to speak) on her six brothers and sisters.

Will takes very good care of her and her adopted siblings, and really she thinks she could want for nothing, but on days like today she wonders if maybe there’s something he wants for.

He’s taken her to the park, and she lies next to him as he sits, elbows hooked over knees, on a clean patch of grass overlooking the pond. He thinks she doesn’t see the loneliness in his eyes, but she does. It isn’t there always, but it’s there in flashes, just before he turns off the lights and curls into bed at night. It’s there when he stares across his empty kitchen table over his plate of trout that he feeds her flakes of. It’s there now, as she watches him try to read his book even though he hasn’t turned a page in nearly half an hour.

He’s staring out over the bank, the stripes of sunshine in the water reflecting in his eyes, and he’s thinking of something… someone perhaps.

Alana rests her chin on Will’s thigh and huffs out a little snort of a sigh. Absent-mindedly he pats her head, rubbing the soft flap of her ear as she thumps her tail in lazy contentment.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. The pages of his book remain unturned.

A silvery jingle distracts Alana and she cocks her head, shifting out from under Will’s hand to look at the bench behind them.

Sitting at the feet of a very well-dressed man is the most beautiful dalmatian she has ever seen.

She is poised, regal even, with crystal blue eyes and an elegant red collar specifically tailored just for her that brings out the contrast of her brilliant spots. Alana doesn’t think about the simple black cord that Will has looped around her neck, she’s so impeccably trained that her leash is mostly for show, but all of a sudden she feels a little shy.

The dalmatian catches eyes with her and dips her head in greeting. Her owner looks up, first at Alana, then at Will. His eyebrows raise and he rests his gaze on Will’s unsuspecting profile, lingering longer than she’s ever seen anyone look at her master.

She looks back at Will in excitement and barks softly, tugging at her leash as she stands. Will looks down in surprise. She never tugs at her leash. He follows the source of her little commotion and locks eyes with the man at the bench.

The man does not look away. Will flushes from head to toe. He does not look away either.

Alana tugs again and moves towards them, barking a little louder. Will tries to shush her and pulls back. The red-collared dalmatian stands, a little confused by the encroachment, and moves in front of her owner in protection. She barks once, clear and with authority, and Alana immediately sits.

“Margot,” her owner admonishes gently. His lips quirk and he raises a brow. She sits once again, grumbling her discontent. Will marvels at the man’s quiet authority. He practically radiates with it, power crackling off of him and reaching out in jagged bolts towards him.

Will has never wanted to be electrocuted more in his life.

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