GeW_15



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    “A meeting,” Tony doesn’t even bother to hide his incredulity.

    “Yes.”

    “With the Galactic Empire,” he attempts to lighten his own mood with the joke, but the response he gets from Ross makes the blood freeze in his veins.

    “They call themselves the Unitary Galactic Communia, actually.”

    If Tony lets his silence speak for itself, it’s only partially because his throat is closing up on him at an alarming rate.

    “I know it sounds bad at first—“

    “Oh no no no, not at all,” Tony interjects quickly, “this is wonderful news. A communia. A unitary one. Sounds very… organized. They must be people who know how to keep an army. Of galactic proportions. This is great, really. Not debilitatingly frightening in the least.”

    ...
    Alternatively: the freshly pardoned Rogues have complaints, Tony is dead on his feet, and Steve has issues with the handsome alien lord who keeps offering Stark the literal universe.

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    11 Jun 2026

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    “Fuck off, Nicky.”
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    “Hasn’t anyone ever told you spider-napping is illegal?”
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    “You can’t hold me here, I know my spider-rights.”
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    “God, you guys are so old. What are you? Like 27?”
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    “Scale of 1 to 10, how upset would you be if I told you I banged your mom?”
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     

    Or, I got my grubby little hands on the spider-man time line and fucked around a little bit. Not much (everything) changes.

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    13 Mar 2026

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    Oscar had never really put all that much thought into his status as a beta.

    As a beta, his secondary sex didn't put anywhere near as much of an effect on his every day life in the way that being an alpha or omega would. He didn't experience heats or ruts, and well… his ability to scent was baseline. His own scent was mild and even, much less prone to souring. In turn, he wasn't as affected by the scents of others either. It meant he had a pretty easy time on the track, all things considered.

    *

    Or the fic where Oscar shifts from beta to omega and has to deal with the fallout.

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    16 Dec 2025

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    Harry tore his eyes away from the man on the catwalk. The merry party of wizards were advancing on him with Moody at the helm, leaving Uncle Vernon to smoulder a few metres away. He was asked if he was ready to go, which he didn't respond to. He simply let Moody's gnarly, root-like hand clamp onto his shoulder and lead him away.

    They followed all the way to Uncle Vernon's Mercedes. Some of them gave Harry hugs while other whispered reassurances that they'd see each other again soon. That the weeks would fly by and that they would come to get him before he knew it. But Harry knew very well that he was doomed. He knew that this would be the last he ever saw of any of them.

    ***

    Fewer things are the same now, in this summer of 1996, though a few things will remain the same. This is Part Two of the Dreamweaver series.

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    16 Apr 2025

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    There was no pity in Arcturus’s gaze, no affection, but neither was there disdain. What filled his eyes was something far more unsettling—something heavy and calculating, as though he were measuring Sirius with a precision no one else ever had. Cold and deliberate, it was the look of a man who saw not a grandson, but a tool, a piece in a grander scheme.

    “The time has come for us to return to our roots,” Arcturus began, his voice steady, like the pronouncement of fate itself. “We’ve allowed ourselves to care too much for the opinions of sheep. We’ve let slip the traditions, the magic that defines our blood. And in doing so, we’ve bowed to the world. When, in truth, it is the world that should bow to us.”

    Or: Faced with their looming ruin, the Black Family decided to take a Targaryen approach to solving their problems.

     

    Or: They are to be married in the tradition of their House.

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    23 Feb 2025