#stop trying to fight people for saying something is a tradition from one place like you can’t share

[worstloki]

The funniest arguments are the ones where one country tries to claim a food or type of clothing is solely theirs and shouldn’t be associated with another country pointing out it also exists somewhere else. Even if ‘somewhere else’ is a neighbouring country that a century ago was a part of the same place, somehow this calls people to violence

#it’s soooo funny #like everyone calm down #understand how the timeline and culture and adopting things from others and getting to know them works #stop trying to fight people for saying something is a tradition from one place like you can’t share #it’s not stealing stop accusing each other of stealing something that has long existed in both cultures #especially with food like why don’t you just both eat the food #stealing is completely different to sharing traditional culture aspects after residing in the same area for centuries together #like you have to understand the country borders aren’t changing that it is essentially the same place #video gives a recipe for pakistani biryani and there’s a second partition war occurring in the comments #someone says they’re making lebanese baklava and some guys there like uhm this is turkish baklava actually #like BRO #you are basically the same people #sit down

[unclewaynemunson]

Pt2 to this post

'Is something wrong?' Nancy asks, not long after the two of them have taken their familiar spots on the hood of Steve's car. They're basking in what might be the last warm sunlight of the year, looking out over the quarry, at a safe distance from the edge.

It's become a tradition the two of them share, ever since they reconnected back in March. It calms them both, to just sit here and take in the view, no one around but each other. Nancy is one of the few people Steve can share a comfortable silence with: sometimes they sit here quietly for what feels like hours, side by side, listening to music or to nothing but the birds singing around them. But they also have their best conversations here: it's the place where Nancy entrusted him she wanted to break up with Jonathan; it's the place where they talked about their shared past and decided they would always love each other as friends; it's the place where they finally talked about Barbara in a way they couldn't when they were younger. It's where Nancy talked about the ghosts still haunting her and Steve talked about how lonely he sometimes felt.

Steve huffs. 'How did you guess?'

'When you frown, you always do it with your whole face,' Nancy notes. 'So it's hard to miss, really.'

Steve glances at her side profile. There's a serenity to her features that's still relatively new. It means she's healing, slowly learning how to be happy again. It means she stopped waiting for the end of the world and started believing in a real future again. It makes Steve proud of how far they both have come.

'I had a fight with Eddie,' he confesses. 'And with Dustin, I guess.'

'What happened?'

He sighs. 'It's complicated.'

'Wanna tell me about it?'

The look in her eyes is kind and inviting. Steve hesitates. He wants to, but he doesn't know if he can. It's a risk. It's scary.

But he can't imagine Nancy Wheeler ever being careless with his secrets. He can't imagine her judging him, can't imagine her being as small-minded as most people in this town.

He was planning on telling her anyway, because things had been going so well with Eddie lately and – no, he shouldn't think about that right now. But maybe it would actually be nice to talk about it with Nancy.

'So, um...' His throat feels tight and his hands are sweaty. 'I recently discovered some things about myself. I-' The words get stuck somewhere on the way to his mouth, and he clears his throat.

Nancy doesn't push, but only gives him an encouraging nod, waiting for him to find his voice again.

'I found out I like boys,' he finally manages to confess. 'And I need you to know that – that that doesn't mean that what I felt for you wasn't real. It was. I loved you, and now I fell in love with a boy. And-'

'Steve.' Nancy's hand suddenly covers his, causing him to finally jerk his head away from the view over the quarry, to focus on her face again instead.

Her eyes are wide, and she squeezes his hand.

'You don't have to explain yourself to me,' she tells him. 'We're good. But thank you for telling me. For trusting me with this.'

Steve heaves out a relieved sigh, and Nancy smiles; it's that genuine kind of smile which reveals all kinds of dimples and soft lines across her face.

'We might be more similar than you thought,' she tells him, a faint blush spreading over her cheeks.

'Really?' Her words make his breath catch in his throat. He squints at her, trying to see her in this new light. 'Are you saying what I think you're saying?'

She shrugs. 'I don't know. I'm not sure yet,' she admits. 'Still figuring things out.'

'Take your time, there's no rush,' he tells her. 'But...' He bumps his shoulder against hers. 'When you're done figuring it out, talk to me, okay?'

She nods. 'Okay.'

For a while, it's quiet between the two of them. Some kind of raptor circles high above them in the sky. They both follow it with their eyes until it disappears among the tree tops west of the quarry.

'Is it Eddie?'

Steve blinks dumbly a couple of times.

'Wha- what?'

'The guy you were talking about. The one you fell in love with. It's Eddie, isn't it?'

'Jesus, Wheeler, what kind of sorceress are you?' Steve exclaims.

Nancy laughs again. 'You're not being as subtle as you think,' she tells him. 'The two of you have been hooking up for a while now, haven't you?'

Steve huffs dramatically. 'This is unfair. You know everything; I can't even tell you my own secrets anymore!'

'So what happened?' Nancy asks. 'You said you had a fight with him?'

'It's fucking stupid,' he sighs. 'Dustin was getting way too excited about the fact that I was gonna be hanging out with you, so I told him I was seeing someone. Next thing I knew, he was telling Eddie all about how I was seeing a girl.' He waves his hands around to make annoyed air quotations. 'I wanted to tell Eddie it was a misunderstanding, but Dustin was there, so I couldn't out us just like that, and he looked so betrayed and heartbroken... He didn't wanna listen to me.'

Steve sighs; he still can't manage to forget that look in Eddie's eyes when Dustin delivered the big news. 'I wish I would've talked about what I felt for him earlier. I should've been honest when I had the chance, y'know. But I was afraid he wouldn't wanna label what we had, that he wouldn't feel the same way – and now we're in this whole mess. God, he must hate me right now, Nance.'

To his surprise, Nancy gives him an unexpected slap against his arm.

'Ouch, what the hell was that for?!'

'What are you even doing here with me, Steve? You should've gone after him, tell him how you feel!'

'I tried, obviously, but he didn't wanna listen to me!'

'So make him listen! You're in love with him, he obviously feels the same way about you, and you let him leave to wallow in a broken heart he doesn't even need to have!' She rolls her eyes and slides off the car, adding something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like an exasperated 'Boys!' before she pulls Steve off the car as well. 'C'mon, time to get your ass over to the trailer park. Right. Now,' she says through gritted teeth. And, well, Steve knows better than to argue with a determined - and truthfully quite terrifying - Nancy Wheeler.

Read the last part here Taglist: @withacapitalp @ultimatedreamer104 @irregular-child @jcmadgirl @estrellami-1 @myguiltyartpleasure @hallucinatedjosten @jaybren @thew1ldblueyonder @melodymeddler @alycatavatar @zoeweee @lolawonsstuff @fairy-princette @saramelaniemoon @phirex22 @krazyperson @xxsky-shockxx (I only put people on this list who explicitly asked to be tagged. That's really no problem, I love to do that so dw about asking, but I got a lot of relatively vague reactions to the previous post that i'm not gonna dissect and interpret, bc I don't wanna clog anyone's notes unwanted. So just to be clear: i consider it a huge compliment if anyone asks for a tag but please do it clearly if you do!)

#look i can and i will exploit the miscommunication trope until yall are sick and tired of it #bc steddie is actually the perfect couple for keeping that trope believable #they're idiots with terrible communication skills it's canon #they WOULD #“can't you just talk to him?” “wait what i can????” IT'S SO THEM OKAY #nancy is the only sane person here i don't make the rules #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #platonic stancy #(i love platonic stancy they mean the world to me) #(i truly didn't mean to trick anyone into reading about them this just kinda. happened. idk) #this is making me wanna write more about their friendship actually they deserve their own fic #stranger things #fruity ficlet

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for exposing my sister-in-law's secret during a fight?

Ok, this one is going to need a bunch of context.

I (29F) started to date my fiance F (31M) when I was 26. While he is the sweetest person ever, his family is a bit difficult and it was hard for me to fit in. They are a very traditional family of Japanese descent, very rich too, and his mother MIL (60sF) had a dream of seeing all of her three sons married to other rich girls of Japanese descent. I am white and from very humble origins, so I was not very well accepted at first. The thing that bothered me the most was the constant comparisons to my brother in law BIL's (34M) wife SIL (33F), who is rich and of Japanese descent. I was deeply in love with F and decided to fight for my place in his family; I started to take Japanese classes and ended up really good at it, and I was also the one who took care of MIL after her appendicitis' surgery. She recognized my hard work and we became closer and closer, at the same time she realized SIL didn't make the same effort for her and the family as I do, and she started to be very vocal about how I was her favorite daughter in law and how SIL should do better and try to be more like me. Suddenly, the tables have turned and SIL was the one being compared to me, no the other way around.

Of course she didn't like that at all and started to antagonize me and criticize every small thing about me. She would complain my dog would bark too much (which she did, but SIL was a little mean about it), and when my dog died, she made a comment about how finally she wouldn't have to hear her barking anymore (that stung a lot since I loved my dog with all my heart and she was like a baby to me), she would also complain about my apartment every time she visited me, saying it was too cheap (as I said, I come from humble origins) and her newest topic of complaining are my earrings: I like to wear cute and funny earrings (only at work and family gatherings, I don't wear them at social events or anything like that) and she always talks about how I'm too old to wear them and how tacky it looks. F and I noticed she's been progressively meaner the closer we get to our wedding (three months from now) and think she's trying to scare me away before I become an official part of the family.

One last piece of context: some months ago, F told me in confidence about how 6 years ago SIL's brother and sister in law died in a car accident and left an orphaned boy of 4 years old. SIL was the little boy's only family, but she refused to take him in saying she already had too much work with her own son (who was also 4 at the time). That didn't go well with the family; MIL and my father in law (who was alive at the time) assured her they would help with the kid and she would have all the support, but she simply didn't want the boy, so he was sent to the system. That was something MIL never forgave her for, since family is everything to her, and it was something only MIL, BIL, SIL, F and his younger brother knew. He told me that in confidence and asked me to not tell anyone. I promised I wouldn't.

Now for the actual situation.

Our last family dinner was one of F's cousins' birthday, so all the extended family was around. No kidding, I think there were around 60 people there or more. SIL, once again, decided to mock me about my earrings (little cherry earrings, very cute) and talked again how I was to old to wear them, how they were kid earrings etc. I've been tolerating her bullshit for so long now and after her comments about my dog's death, I was more sensitive than usual, so I snapped back and said that it's not because she dresses herself like an old lady that I have to do the same. She got angry at that and a proper fight started; we saying worse and worse stuff to each other while everyone stopped to watch. It ended up with her mocking my upbringing and calling me a gold digger, accusing my of only being with F for his money. That really struck a nerve because I heard that before at the beginning of our relationship and it always hurt my feelings, since I genuinely love F. Before I could even think about it, I said: "At least I'm not a heartless bitch like you. How's your nephew doing, by the way? Oh, you have no idea, right? Since you put him in a fucking orphanage!"

She got speechless after that and left the place, went straight to her car with BIL and went home. I didn't hear from her or him since them. F is furious with me since he told me that in confidence and now all the extended family knows SIL's secret. MIL doesn't care at all; she never got over what SIL did to that little boy and it's been a while since SIL isn't in her best graces.

Now that I'm calmer I feel a little guilty for exposing SIL like that, but she was always so awful to me that I can't really feel that bad. Mostly, I feel bad for BIL, with who I always had a good relationship and even defended me back in the day when the family didn't accept me very well. Now he's not talking to me either and, as far as I know, he's also not talking to F.

So, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[starlithumanity]

I don't even know what you can say to the people who somehow missed that all of Ed's violence is a) anti-imperial, b) protective against direct repeated threats to himself and his loved ones, or c) self-destructive in the hopes someone will respond by killing him during his suicidal spiral. (That last example is fairly indirect and performative and comes from a place of severe nihilistic suffering.)

I don't know what you can say to the people who somehow missed that the violence is triggering and traumatic and exhausting for Ed, and that he is desperate for a chance to live differently but has also never known any other life. Stede gave him the one true glimpse he's had of something gentler! Ed didn't fully know how fucked up his life was before because that was normal to him. That's what growing up traumatized does to you.

I don't know what you can say to the people who somehow missed that the suicidal spiral is a result of Ed's circumstances: of Ed being threatened by Izzy after Izzy repeatedly found ways to force Ed back towards the violent life Ed wants so much to escape, of Ed losing his one glimpse at safety and happiness through Stede and now having to face the darkness knowing he nearly found something different, of Ed feeling like the only way he can survive in this world is by being an "unlovable" monster he hates--and then he's confronted by Izzy telling him he's still not getting it right. Of course Ed gives up then.

I don't know what you can say to the people who somehow missed the show's themes about how much harm is caused by toxic masculinity and by masking your true self and by cultures founded on trauma and self-hate and burnout. (You do see the burnout in Ed, yeah?)

I do get why some people might not understand the complexities of Ed's relationship with Izzy--how codependent and enmeshed their identities are--or the layers of symbolism that position Izzy in the story as a metaphor for traditional pirate culture and its harmful impact. (Which is particularly triggering for Ed on a daddy issues level because that's his original trauma.) If you understand those things, the unique nature of the physical harm Ed does to Izzy in this story makes even more sense.

Ed also frequently communicates through metaphor himself. Him cutting off Izzy's toes is not only a show trying to convince Izzy he's playing Blackbeard right and not only a response to Izzy repeatedly threatening Stede/continuing to threaten Ed, but also is meant to physically represent the harm that Izzy has done emotionally to Ed. Ed is communicating to Izzy the only way he knows how anymore: "See how it feels to be forced to lose parts of yourself? Stede was a part of me. My hopes of softness and joy were a part of me. You cut those off too."

There is so much evidence against the thought that Ed is some irredemable, monstrous lover of violence who will hurt Stede someday. Stede would have to repeatedly and directly threaten someone else Ed loves first (which Stede won't do), and even then, Ed would really have to fight with himself.

It's not his nature, y'all, and I'm so frustrated that some people keep insisting it is. I'm frustrated about what that says about people's ability to empathize and consider reasons for or contexts behind behaviors--particularly when the character in question is an openly queer and likely neurodivergent indigenous man. Is it so hard to have compassion and forgiveness for him? Please don't get stuck in that punitive, dehumanizing mindset.

Redemption is so important, which is why I appreciate that Izzy gets a growth arc once he stops centering his entire identity on the Blackbeard persona and clinging to toxic masculinity. (Seeing Stede's impact, how different things could be, vs. the harm caused by the traditional ways, changes Izzy too!) Izzy's time, as a side character and mentor figure and piracy metaphor, does end, but first he gets to live with more meaning and unlearn many of the negative behaviors. That's the goal, right? To move forward.

#i try to avoid negative discourse but damn guys #edward teach #our flag means death #izzy hands #stede bonnet #my stuff

[thehmn]

Still trying to shake off the yuk.

I was at one of the places where I clean and two guys showed up. Usually there’s no one by the time I get there but apparently they were fixing some heavy machinery. As always they said “Hi” and I responded in kind even though I couldn’t actually hear them because I was listening to a podcast with a pair of small earbuds. I just recognised the usual nod and lip movements for hi.

But one of them kept talking and looked at me weird when I walked by so I pulled an earbud out and said “Sorry?”

“Oh you were listening to music”

I didn’t bother correcting him and just said “Yeah, what did you say?”

He mumbled something. “What? Sorry but you’re mumbling”

“I just said I thought you were Polish”

So he hadn’t been talking to me after all? Did that mean he thought he was talking behind my back? “No, I’m Danish” I just said. It’s a common assumption that cleaners are foreigners because cleaning pays pretty well in Denmark but doesn’t require you to speak Danish or English. We’re paid way more than most “unskilled” office workers for example.

His buddy seemed like he was trying to save the first guy from an awkward situation and laughed “Nice to finally have someone we can understand. Sometimes it feels like we’re overrun with monkeys”

My thoughts must have been very evident on my face because both of them immediately stopped talking. I ran a lot of different replies through my head but settled on “That’s one thing to call my colleagues”

I kid you not. They were practically hiding from me the rest of the time I was there and didn’t say a single word to each other either.

It says a lot about the culture among the mechanics at that place that he thought it would be an okay thing to say to me despite me being a complete stranger. Like, those are my colleagues! I live with an indigenous woman from the Colombian Páez tribe! I come from a Jewish family line that lost their Jewish traditions during WWII because they raised their children as Christians to protect them and stay hidden! But sure, I have the “right” skin colour and speak the language you like so I must be one of you, no other information needed.

I’ve seen it before but it’s the first time I’ve been subjected to racist assholes who just assume I’m on their team. Usually it’s some other person who has to try to politely tell them off in the cafeteria because they’re at fucking work and would like to not start a fight. They’re like geeks in old movies who can’t comprehend that other people doesn’t have the same interests as them and are baffled when a stranger doesn’t care about Batman. At least these idiots got the fucking hint. Anyway, how was your day?

#humontalks #racisim

[vqrtualheartss]

ᴅ☆ᴇ'ꜱ ꜱᴀʏ|

Y'ALL MY PAGE?? LIKE, no like seriously thank like all of you for supporting me🥹. It means a lot to me and all the comments mwah thank you so so much. Also, how do you reply to reblogs..

I've been sick for the last few days so that's why I haven't been producing anything so, my bad. I'll try and get started soon. swr

Also, I am not trying to sexualise Miles because, He's a minor. I'm a minor. If you're reading this I expect you to be a minor

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 Warnings ─ smoking/ vaping, suggestive content (very suggestive) , kissing, miles is aged up to 19 - reader 18

𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓭𝓾𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 | So, basically, you're at a lil' get-together with your friends —These can be whoever— and like every teenage sleepover , truth or dare was being played. Unlike the traditional game of playing it individually, this time however it was in randomised pairs and you got paired with Miles. How lucky were you? He's been the person you've been crushing on for so. so. long since freshman. Casting your feelings aside, you convinced yourself that it was useless liking him given how he just sees you as a "little sister". To hell with that. They resurfaced themselves as you all grew, you aged like fine wine, he got fine-er (??) it was almost impossible not to.

"Truth or dare (y/n)?" It was past 11 on a rainy night, I didn't see the bad in any of the choices. "Dare"

"Feeling risky are we?" f/n teased as Miles let out a coarse laugh barely passing over my head. I was set between his legs that circled under mine stretching over his. "Pick a number" Resting on one of her arms she anticipated my answer, her partner rubbing his thumb over their interlocked hands.

The request confused me a bit, but I replied anyway "32" her eyes glistened with mischief passing me.. a vape? Brand new too. Just as confused as I was, Miles leaned over to inspect the item, pressing down into my back I squirmed uncomfortably . Using his hands to steady himself, he held onto my hips stopping at my ear muttering, "My bad, I'll be gentle in the future". I hummed a shaky 'mhm' in reply, trying to distract myself from thoughts .

Leaning at a lower angle, our bodies held direct contact from our pelvises, not to mention his hands that were situated on the small of my back rubbing circles and drawing lines upwards, slightly arching it. Refraining from making any type of movement —given we were around people—, I focused back to (f/n) who was instead of explaining my dare, sending me the look with a devilry ridden smirk. shit.

Knowing her by now, I knew she was most definitely planning something, and as much as I wanted to maintain a blithe expression, I couldn't. The feelings of his cold rings on my back had me weak, trembling lightly each time he used his knuckles or pressed harder. The low, knowing chuckles he released becoming frequent as I fumbled underneath his fingers, widening my eyes at (f/n) I urged for her to start.

Giggling, she began "So, for this dare, I want you to take 32 hits" I tilted my head because she pointed to..Miles, but gave the vape to me.

"Let me continue, hold on, She'll be the one giving you the smoke. Until finished you two are excluded from the game"

I hesitated looking at the vape still in my hand, pushing it out as I protested. It wasn't that I didn't want to do it, I doubted that he would

"I don't think that-"

"Shit's easy, my tolerance is high" Using a hand of his to apply even more pressure to my back, he used the other to push away my hand.

"Okay and?" I observed attentively, (f/n)'s tone was a little more annoyed than before, and knowing what I know she likes to fight.

"Just saying, if you're gonna give me a dare atleast make it interesting" where's this going? I turned away from Miles to view both faces. He pulled me back, placing both hands around my waist squeezing it before (f/n) added

"Then do it 'till he's sky high then, be my guest" Their bickering brought on the attention of the rest of the group looking at us. He shrugged, she scoffed winking at me discreetly before turning focus to the rest of the group. Okayy then, I know her reason but what's his ?

As obvious as it was that we both wanted to do this I turned around, kneeling. Placing a hand on my lower thigh he shook his head snickering "Your knees are going to go weak if you stay like that." he brought his legs together, suggesting I'd sit on them. Somewhat reluctant I brought myself over, slowly draping each of my legs on a side of his.

Taking the first hit I leaned over to kiss Miles, exchanging the smoke from my mouth to his as he opened giving me access, things went like that for a while. Around hit 15 his hands found my back, making my body involuntarily arch as they raised each time I bent over and sliding down when I retracted. I did not have a high tolerance for nicotine and you could probably tell by my state. My eyes rested low, body completely pressing into each other's as I wrapped an arm around his neck collecting myself. Nearing his mouth to my ear he cooed, "Poor thing, can't even function under a little smoke".

Pressing his lips just beneath my ear lobe I felt the corners of his lips turn upward, letting out a raspy laugh before pulling back. Taking my chin into his hand he turned my vision and focus to him, taunting as we made eye contact "Show me you can do it"

I gave a jestful scowl that turned into a smile accepting his challenge. Inhaling the fumes a smug look plastered onto his face, grinning as I took a long hit.

Leaning over with slightly puffed cheeks, I was certain he didn't see through my bluffing, if anything I was more than sky high, but what's the harm in getting kisses from Miles? Nothing. exactly. Safe to say that kiss lasted longer than needed but who cares? He wanted it. I wanted it. We'll probably forget about everything in the morning being high and all.

Pulling back I placed a hand on my fluctuating chest to atleast try to control my breathing. Miles looked down at me with the same smirk whilst chewing on his bottom lip, his eyes resting lower, hand slipping from behind my nape to the level of his other one just above my ass.

Twisting my head slightly I noticed the room alot emptier, a result of pairs "using the bathroom" lol. The others were either asleep or in other rooms, had it been that long? Shrugging to the question I hoisted myself over Miles' body to get up , well tried to. Pulling me down by my waist he took the hand I had on my shirt, intertwining them as we kissed, pushing back, I shook my head

"We can't, you're high and under the influence" I reminded him, well myself

"We both are. Drunk actions, sober thoughts right?" Slipping in to temptation I sighed placing my head onto his shoulder. "Tell me to stop and I'll do just that. Just say the word" I turned my face away from his, staying silent. He knew what was happening, he knew the effect he had on me, he knew everything

I bit back "I hate you" "I'll have you saying otherwise"

©vqrtualheartss 2023 ©dae 2023

#Spotify #earth 42 miles fluff #black tumblr #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles x you #miles morales #across the spiderverse #black reader #e42 miles #miles gonzalo morales #rio morales #x reader #x y/n #x you #x you fluff #xyz #spotify #earth42miles #miles my beloved #earth 42 miles morales x you #earth 42 miles morales x female reader #x female y/n #x female reader #x fem!reader #x black reader #x black fem reader

[jjungkooksthighs]

Claws of Carnality | jjk (m) (14)

Pairing: alpha jungkook x omega reader

Genre: fluff and angst, abo/werewolf,  fantasy

Rating: 18+/nsfw

Word Count: 8.8k

Summary: The Duels of the Chosen begin, and the alphas battle the right to take the omega as their own. 

Warnings: CHARACTER INJURY, LOTS OF BLOOD MENTIONS, GORE (this will not be for people who are squeamish with blood/gore), dom!jungkook, alpha!jungkook, alpha!Taehyung, alpha!Jimin, sub!reader, omega!reader, cursing, praising, possessive!jungkook, teasing, dirty talk, marking, manhandling

A/N: Hello, all! It’s been some time, but we are back again with another update! I have been very busy with work and school, so that was one of the reasons this took so long. The other reason was that I knew a lot of you were waiting specifically for the long-anticipated fight, and so I became overly critical of myself and didn’t like anything I wrote. This is a chapter that was one of my first ideas for this story, so I wanted it to be as perfect as I envisioned it in my head. Nothing I wrote could match that, and finally I became resolved to just writing without stopping or editing until the end. I hope that you all find this to meet your expectations, given that it is over twenty pages long. Oh, and let me know what you think about that cliffhanger at the end (or anything about this chapter because comments are like the bread and butter of writers), yeah?

Series Masterlist

It is as if time itself has grown tired as the seconds slowly tick by, the silver circlet twining itself around your head becoming heavier the longer it stays nestled there.

It saps your senses and strength away to leave you entirely incapable of movement and thought. In some cases, it even dulls emotions. It was why the substance was forbidden to be used except in ceremonial rites like the Duels of the Chosen.

Soon, even managing a thought becomes a challenge in how the silver intertwists you in numbness in your own head. Even your eyelids fall lower over your eyes in how leaden they have become.

The sound of something distinctly metal comes from somewhere near your feet. It takes a moment for you to drag your irises down your mate’s body to where his hand is fiddling with the bolt holding the first latch closed on the brown wooden box at your feet. The box, like its counterpart that has yet to be opened, is bigger than the one your diadem had come from.

His long fingers easily flick up on the last latch to the second of the three wooden boxes that are of a sepia, umber, and burnt sienna make. It is the second largest box of the three. What your alpha reveals is on a bed of white velvet and you see not one, but two pieces laid under one another that shine in the moonlight.

They are identical and appear to be a kind of cuff for your wrist in their size.  They, like are your diadem, have twisting and tangling silver strands that root from the bottom of the piece to the top, and interspersed throughout the bevy of liana-like tendrils, you can make out small, intricately forged flowerets not unlike the curtain of vines that flowers of all colors and sizes cling to along the stony wall hiding the creek that you used to habit.

It's a task to summon the memories of that place with the circlet that siphons away your cognition. Every time you try, what you are searching for seems to swim away from you in the sea of darkness that has swept your mind in its sway.

“Forgive me, my beautiful flower,” your mate’s voice lifts your very soul as you watch him undo the clasps of the first piece, his digits working the hook with ease and, from his knees, he reaches for your arm while he says, “the tradition is that you must be bedecked in silver before I am allowed to go fight. I fear I may not even make it that far if I do not do this now.” His calloused fingers wrap around your forearm and he turns it so that the underside of your arm is extended to him as he lifts the silver cuff toward it with the other. He doesn’t release your forearm, but instead curls his fingers tighter over your bare flesh as he says, “But gods, you test me so.”

Trying to put together words or sentences is like trying to fish in a dark, murky river. As for your emotions, even they have begun to grow dormant under the waters of dullness that try to quiet them.

It's all you can do to let your head fall to the side in question, the leaf-shaped crystal hanging from the middle of your diadem reflecting the light of the moon.

Attuned to you as ever, your alpha grins, “All I meant is that you have a very, very powerful effect on me, my love.” He guides your arm forward until the back of your hand rests on his shoulder. Then, his fingers are gone and he fits the adornment over your wrist as he hooks the first of the five blossoming fastenings along the undersurface of the bracelet over one another while he confesses, “I wanted to keep kissing you,” he closes the last of the fastenings over your wrist before bringing it to his mouth and placing his lips over your bloodied palm before he turns your now limp arm back over so that you can put your dead weight on his shoulder. Then, he’s grabbing your other so that he can adorn it, too, as he tells you, “I wished to keep tasting you,” a pink tongue glides along his lip where your blood now coats it, a groan slipping from him whilst he secures the fixing on the other wrist cuff as he admits, “And I wanted to keep exploring your body.”

You can only whimper in answer, but even that sound is now muted to your own ears as if you have cloth stuffed in them while the silver sifts out the energy from your body like a drain where the metal touches your flesh. It is heavy as a rock, and your wrist is trapped within it as you whimper.

Your alpha’s eyes soften at that, and still on knees, he reaches for the third and largest of the ornately carved boxes. Somehow, his digits work even slower now on this one.  

You do not think about why. All you can do is sit and watch as a tethering torpor climbs up your arm like a fungus from where the silver cuffs bind them.

“You probably have already realized it by now, omega,” his eyes are locked on yours when his fingers find the hem of your gown behind your ankle and then he’s balling it in his hand, “but it gives me no pleasure to bind you up like this. I am very well acquainted with what silver does to our kind. I made this silver for you, but I also had to make it for myself, too.” He’s careful to lay both of your hands on your lap, “the only reason I am still capable of basic movement while touching it is because I seem to have made myself somewhat tolerant to it with how much I’ve had it on me during my ruts,” golden irises find yours when he adds, “ruts that I could not spend with you until you had accepted me.”

Your heart gives a weak pang against your ribcage at that.

“I’m almost done, sweetheart. Bear with me.” He tugs up on the ovular clasp on the third, final and biggest of the wooden boxes–this one the length of your calf in its size–before pushing inward, and then he’s lifting up the top of the box to reveal two grandiloquent adornments that you’ve never seen anything the likes of before.

It takes some time to process what they are, but you cannot ignore how wondrously they glint in the firelight that makes them sparkle bright as the stars.

With his hand still gripping at your skirts, your alpha coaxes your knees apart so that he can resituate himself and put one of his knees between yours.

It is a strange thing to be so silent, but you know if you didn’t have this silver on you right now, you would be begging.

Your alpha must know it, because he chuckles when he coaxes your left leg up and onto his so that your foot rests on his thigh, and gods, the sight of him on his knees for you has familiar heat stirring between your legs as your sex cries for him.

The wind chooses that moment to wind around you, and then your alpha is cursing under his breath, his fingers tightening in your skirt as he cusses, “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, omega.”

His movements hasten then, and his eyes dilate in desire. You feel your skirt ascend and climb along your leg until he’s got it bunched up atop your knee, but it is a blur after that the muted sound of a clink. You don’t even realize that he’s fitted the piece over your calf and pulled together the three clamps only with one hand along the back of your leg before he’s heaving a heavy breath and leaning forward to utter, “It is a good thing I am touching this silver and that it deafens my senses to an extent, because if it didn’t,” his lips brush the inside of your knee as he mouths, “I’d have likely been unable to stop myself from standing and taking you against this fucking tree you sit on.”

You have half a mind to tell him you want it, that you want him, but words do not come. Every time you seek them, they bury themselves in the silt of your brain and no matter how hard you try, the silver circling your head hides them from you.

All you can manage is a stuttered,” Ah..al…alpha.”

At the sound of your voice, your alpha’s irises contract from between your thighs as he looks up at you. “Here, my love. I am here.”

You wish you could speak more to him. You wish you could touch him. You wish he would-

“I can hear your desire as much as I can smell it, my love,” your alpha tells you as he brings his lips over to the other side of your knee and he presses his mouth to your skin, “your pre-heat is making you fucking needier as the seconds pass, pretty girl.”

You make an effort to make your thighs meet, but the leg that he’d just wrapped silver in does not heed your mind or your instinct.

You pout. It’s all your body has energy left to do.

You hadn’t noticed it before now, but the usual softness, warmth and wetness of his mouth and fingers was gone. Stolen by the silver that drew sensation away until little to none remained.

Suddenly, there’s something hard gliding along your upper shin, and when your alpha’s mouth leaves you, two fresh, new punctures dot your skin along the base of your knee.

You had not felt him bite you. There had not been any pain due to the dulling effect of the silver just beneath his mark.

Crimson now lines his mouth and he lets it descend from the middle of his lower lip and down his bare neck. You lick your lips as you watch it, your tongue dense as a stone.

Jealousy hangs low in your gut over you in how your own blood gets to trail down his body and you can only watch. Your alpha’s mouth curves up at that, and two canines, each red with your blood, protrude from under his lips.

“Worry not, my love,” your alpha’s fingers find your other ankle and he guides it up so that your foot rests on his leg, his head dipping between your thighs while his digits tug the ball of fabric of your skirts higher so that he has more access to you, “I will satisfy every single one of your fantasies, every single one of your dreams, and every single one of your cravings,” his mouth finds the tender flesh of your inner thigh as he angles his head to the side, your own lips parting as his tongue slides from between his to lick you as he says, “I’ll let you have me anyway you wish, my love. Anything to make you happy, pretty.”

You latch onto that word. You try to follow the line he’s thrown you in the river of languor, and you can manage through the current of listlessness, “Y-yours…w-want to-“

You try again, but attempting to get your head above the water of stupor that has settled around you is too much.

Your alpha coos, “Oh, my omega. I hear you. I see you,” He suckles at your flesh before lightly biting down the same time you hear that clinking sound again, his freed hand placing the other silver adornment along your shin only for the sinking of all of his teeth into your flesh to feel as if he were only nipping you. “I feel your very blood trying to give itself to me like this. How badly I want to give in to you, my little vixen.”

“Pack Alpha Jungkook,” your grandmother’s voice sounds in the distance from where she stands on her place at the edge of the timbered stage, “It is time. She is more than ready for you to go to battle.”

“Give me a moment,” your alpha declares.

You do not hear her at first. The sounds and vocables mix together and you can only discern bits of pieces of it.

Not…not ready…alpha…

They are the only words that you can remember long enough to think them.

In front of you, your alpha’s tongue drifts to and fro over the wounds he’d left on your thigh.

I must, my love. I must.

His voice finds you even though his mouth doesn’t move.

You attempt to reach for him, to get closer to him, but it’s as if a weight has been attached to your arm and no matter how much you attempt it, it is too heavy to move. As if to soothe the frustration you let out in the form of a shaky sigh, he gives you featherlight kisses anywhere and everywhere that he can along your thigh before he turns his head inward toward your other and opens his mouth to mold it against you, his tongue laving at you ardently.

The attention has your core clenching around nothing.  

Before he departs from between your legs, his digits finish their work in securing the clamps along the back of the other piece of silver he’d put over your shin.

Like the air, his fingers are ever present and wind over the silver etchings he’d forged for you until they roam to the front of the adornment he’d just attached to you. The knuckles of the hand he has tangled your skirts has gone snow white in the tight grip he has on the thin fabric.

He’s holding it like it is a lifeline, and honestly, it just might be. He’s all that is grounding you right now.

“Stars above, my love, you charm me even when silence and stillness have stolen what is only mine to have,” he gently helps you to put your feet back on the grass, his golden irises sowing themselves deep into yours as he does, “I used to think about what you might look like all tied up and bound for me, but none of my imaginings could ever be as good as this.” He rises to stand above you and it only takes two of his fingers under your chin to lift it enough so that you can keep your gaze on him, your bare neck exposed for him as he inspects his handiwork while he goes on, “You haven’t any clue just how seductive you can be when you aren’t even trying, omega. Look at yourself.”

Distantly, relief trickles over you at how fucking responsive your alpha is to you. You wouldn’t have otherwise been able to move your head so that you could look upon him given that the rest of your body isn’t responding to what the apex between your legs has been sobbing over this entire time.

Your wolf sluggishly stirs at his command, and you do as you are told with your head empty of everything except the need to satisfy him.

 It takes some effort. Drawing your eyeline away from him is like towing an anchor through a muddy seafloor. The red paint of your own blood that you’d etched all over him has darkened even more in its dryness across his muscled arms and corded chest. Lighter trails of it have swept themselves down his neck from where it drips from his lips from his earlier ministrations, and with the hooded look in his eyes and wild black hair that curls around his chiseled face, he looks like he wants to devour you.

You know that you’d let him. In the back of your mind, the image of him with his head trapped between your legs, your ankles thrown over his shoulders and his lips wrapped around your pussy flashes. It sends wetness between your already slicked folds.

“Lustful little thing,” your alpha groans when your scent reaches his nostrils, “Stop thinking about getting fucked, pretty girl. I told you I would take care of that when this is over. Now look at yourself,” he orders.

His fingers that he’s kept under your chin lower your head so that you have no choice but to look ahead where he wants you to. You don’t have the strength to move it on your own anymore.

 The first thing you notice is that he’s still got your skirts rolled up between his now snow-white knuckles. The second thing you notice is the skin of your thighs is now painted in bloodied trails of your essence that circle and tread toward the very bindings that your alpha had just put on you. The third thing you notice is that just below your knee, rivulets of silver run along your shins and calves. Like they have dripped from the rocks of the creek you often played in as a child and found respite in as an adult, the silver drizzles down your leg until it pools around your ankle in the thick band of metal that encircles it.

“C-creek?” you let the heavy, rolling tide of that thought bring the word forth from your lips.

“Yes, sweetheart. I had hoped to capture the essence of the places you love the most in all of the pieces I made by hand for you,” his fingers loosen around the clump of your skirts under his fingers, and slowly, it descends down your knee, your shin, and then finally your ankle as you both watch. “It’s not a perfect replication, but a lot of silver passed through my hands in my mission to make something only you would be able to wear and bear.”

Affection courses through your veins as steadily as the blood that runs through your body at his words.

“Pack Alpha Jungkook,” the sound of wood rattles against the platform she stands upon when your grandmother strikes the timbered stage with a staff of oaken bark to announce, “With your preparations complete, you must now head to the battle grounds you have chosen where your challengers await your arrival. If you have anything else you wish to say to your intended or to the pack, you must do so now.”

Without taking his eyes off of you, your alpha answers, “I do have something to say.” He coaxes your chin upward with the fingers he still has planted there, and then sunlight in the form of irises finds yours. His voice is carried only to you in the small breeze that blows over you. “I want you to know, omega,” his thumb slides along the cleft of your chin, “that I love you. And this fight…I do it for you. Everything I do and have done up until now has all been for you, my love.” He tilts his head up, his lips finding the spot between your brows just under the crystal that hangs from your circlet and then mouthing, “Be a good for me until I come back to you. I will return shortly.”

You bite at the log he’s thrown you, only a few words leaving you because the rest had sunken under the murky waters of thought in your head.

“Good,” you can’t even scrunch your brows together in consternation anymore because of how leaden even those have become. Your jaw hardly even moves when you speak, because doing so is impossible with the muscles that refuse to respond to you as you say between parted lips, “b-be good for…for y-you. R-ret…return shortly.”

That seems to satisfy the alpha, for he rumbles against you in response. “That’s my girl.”

His mouth leaves you, and though you can’t really feel their warmness or softness anymore because of the silver, you miss them already.

He gives you one last glance, and in those eyes of his, and compassion clings to them as they cross over you.

You want to reach for him. You want to feel those arms of his around you. You want him to stay with you. That thought sinks away from you even though you try to swim after it.

Stay… alpha.

Your alpha steps back, shaking his head as he does.  

I will never have to leave you once this is over, my love. Trust in me.  I will not fail you.

With those words he sends through your bond, he turns away from you. Panic somehow worms its way into your gut as you watch.

Your alpha’ voice is firm as a tree stump and sturdy as the bark of one when he speaks again as the grass crunches under his feet. “To any alpha here-mated or unmated-do not go near the omega. My omega,” he adds. “Get within in one foot of her, and I will hunt you down.”

Before him, the males put an arm over their front and pound their fist into their chest one by one.

The sea of alphas and omegas part like a river for him, and no one stands in his way as he walks, his shoulders set proudly as he moves with confidence cording his muscles.

You try to whimper, but the sound is lost somewhere in your throat.

The other wolves cluster to one of two sides so that you have nothing blocking your sight from him as he treads on through the grass that catches his feet, the firelight of the braziers set every few feet bathing him in a golden glow. The red paint of blood he wears like a second skin, and it is a dangerous warning to the three that stand several paces apart from each other in the distance ahead.

The continual crunch of grass under your alpha’s feet continues until the grass yields to the dirt of the plain by the old knoll that had stood since the old times.

Your alpha halts, resolve now set in those eyes of his.

Before him to his left, Taehyung stares with a sneer on his face. In the middle of the field, ahead of your alpha is Yoongi, the russet-haired male that has his arms crossed over his chest. To his right, Jimin bares his teeth.

Your alpha reveals his own teeth to them all.

“Pack Alpha Jungkook,” the voice of your grandmother descends over the plain as she ambles, with two other elders, down the stage toward the mound before the plain, “As you have been named the Omega Y/N’s champion, you have been granted the battle rights and so you may choose the terms of this battle.” She peregrinates still, the thick furs around her shoulders unmoved even in her shaky footfalls, “No one may contest your decisions, and your choices are final once given. If any wolf breaks these terms, he will be disqualified and deemed unfit to take the omega as his own. Do you all understand?”

“Yes,” your alpha, without missing a breath, answers.

The other three males nod.

“Very well. Chosen one, do you wish to take on all of your opponents at once, one at a time, or in any sequential order?” She makes it to the top of the knoll, her knees popping as she does.

“I will take on Yoongi alone. The other two I will fight together. It matters not to me which I battle first.” Jungkook asserts.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Scared, Jeon?”

Taehyung laughs under his breath. Jimin cringes at the sound.

“Keep dreaming, Yoongi. I know how dirty you play,” Jungkook picks an invisible fleck of dust off his shoulder.  

“Will you fight in your human form, or will you shift to your lupine form?” The elder in grayed, wiry furs is unphased.

“The first battle I will fight as a human. My second I will fight as a wolf. The others will do the same.”

“Will you be using any weapons in your first fight?”

“Hands, teeth, and claws,” your alpha decides.

“Will this be to the death or to the surrender of the fallen combatants?”

“To the surrender. I do not wish to lose any of my alphas. Even if they are a pain in the ass.”

“Are there any other conditions you would like to set, Pack Alpha Jungkook?”

Your alpha’s eyes harden on each of the males before him. “Any wolf that falls in combat will bear those marks for the rest of his life. I will allow no healers or menders to their side unless the injury is life-threatening.”

“Those conditions will be met. Anything else?” The elder beside your grandmother asks.

“Yes. One more thing,” your alpha is unwavering as he takes a step forth, “No challenger may leave the perimeter of these grounds we stand on until the victor has been declared.”

“As you say,” the aged wolf on the other side of the lead elder says.

The rustle of trees sweeps over the land from the woodland around, and the fire of the braziers circling the arena of dirt is swept with the wind until all is quiet again.

Your alpha keeps his back to you, and so fixated on him, you do not see your grandmother lift her hand, the sound of horns filling the air as the two elders beside her blow into the wooden tusks with holes cut into them that they’d produced from the folds of their furs that cover the whole of their body.

“I will remind you, Jeon Jungkook, that as you are the current Pack Alpha, your title and rank will be stripped from you should you lose this battle. The victor will take your title, rank, and your intended should you be unable to beat them in combat,” The two elders at your grandmother’s side speak together, their voices melding into one, “Do you understand and agree to these terms?”

Your alpha doesn’t even flinch at the prospect. “I am aware of what will happen should I fail to be victorious. I consent to those terms.”

“Should any alpha fail to comply with these conditions, they will be exiled, and if it is the victor’s decision, he may decide to exile or end the lives of those he defeats.” The elders wait for all four males to acknowledge this with affirmations before: “Now, with the terms and agreements that have been given,” the elder in gray from atop the knoll who stands as the intercessor of the four alphas below voices, “Let the battle begin.”

For a few moments, all the males do is stand and stare between one another, no one willing to make the first move.

Your alpha is patient, so he waits. He has spent a long, long time waiting for you.

Worry snakes around your chest, its slithery movement slow and lazy as you watch your alpha’s muscles in his back tense as if he’s preparing to be attacked.

As if he can smell your concern, he turns his head to the side, his irises softening as they silently seek yours.

Worry not, my love. Just watch me. This will all seem like a dream in only a short while.

“The hell with this,” comes a dry remark from Taehyung, who shrugs off his black rabbit furs, the bones cracking from between his knuckles as he claws at his black linen shirt so that it falls in shreds at his feet, “I’ve been waiting for a chance to get revenge for what you did to my fucking shoulder, Jeon,” Taehyung covers the five circular wounds in his flesh, his eyes boring holes into your alpha, “and I will finish what I started with the female and make you grovel while I do it.”

“Oh, shut up already, Taehyung,” Jimin throws off his own furs, his eyes narrowing on the brown haired wolf who had just spoken, “I should destroy you first for what you did to my sister. To me,” he rips his own shirt from his body, “You fucking asshole.”

“Can you both just come at me already? I’m getting bored over here,” Your alpha stretches an arm behind his back, “Unless you’d like to let Yoongi have a go at me first?”

“Fuck off, Jeon,” Yoongi picks at his nails, “you two had better start ripping into some limbs, or I will.”

“No,” Taehyung pushes off his haunches and is off, “he’s mine.”

Jimin is on his tail the second he moves. Your alpha is still even though there’s a male running toward him and another behind that one. Taehyung’s arm lifts, his claws in the air and then he’s upon your alpha.

Fear constricts your stomach at the sight.

The brown-haired wolf draws his arm down in an arcing motion as if to slash at your alpha’s chest, but before it can make it there, your alpha’s hand, fast as lightning, races through the air and he grips Taehyung’s wrist with force, each of his nails sinking into the alpha’s wrist as if it were water. The brown-haired alpha barks in pain, his eyes unseeing of the other alpha behind him as he does.

Jungkook smirks, and with no effort, he swings his other arm back, his fingers clenching into a fist and then that fist makes contact with Taehyung’s stomach. Hard. The brown-haired alpha is flung like a pebble into the air and the impact of the throw has his head colliding with Jimin’s so that there’s a loud thud as Taehyung’s skull hits the other’s that is hard as a stone.  

“Surely you both can do better than that? I’m a little disappointed. I wasn’t expecting much from Taehyung considering he’s never been that great a fighter,” your alpha wrinkles his nose in disgust at the fresh blood that now coats his hand as he looks down at it, “but Jimin? You usually are faster than that. It’s unlike you.”

“Basta-“ Jimin is silenced when Jungkook impels his foot down on his abdomen to knock the breath out of him.  

Your alpha’s tone is devoid of any warmth when he chides, “I thought I told you not to address me with such disrespect.” He stomps on the downed alpha’s chest again, the rib beneath it cracking like a twig as Jimin yips in affliction.

Taehyung gets to his feet and swings, but Jungkook uses the body of Jimin like he’s a stepping stone to jump to the other side so that Taheyung misses and your alpha tuts, “Ah, ah, ah, Taehyung. It is rude to try to punch someone when they’re looking.”

“Like I give a fuck,” Taehyung curses, and when he swings again, Jungkook jumps back with inhuman speed. Across from him, he just narrowly misses Jimin who had rolled to his belly and pushed off his hands to get up.

Jungkook flicks his bloodied hand toward the ground as if to get it off and red dots the ground before he taunts, “You know, I’ve always thought you smelled absolutely rancid, Taehyung,” he wipes the remains on his trousers, “but I didn’t think it was possible for you to smell worse than the bottom of a fucking bog.”

Taehyung responds by yelling out the Pack Alpha’s name, and then he’s making another dash for him. Jungkook isn’t even phased by it. He just steps sideways so that the alpha’s claws and open maw miss him completely. Jimin comes for him next, but he dives toward the ground and rolls when the other alpha tries to swipe at his side from below.

 Yoongi, the passive bystander, stays where had been since the beginning and files at his nails using a rock he’d picked up.

Meanwhile, Taehyung scampers like a wild man toward Jungkook. Anger has turned the whites of his eyes red, and his movements only grow more erratic the longer he battles.

When Jungkook rises to his feet once more, he grins at the sight. “Always so quick to anger,” he spins when the brown-haired alpha’s arm descends downward, “and always so easy to defeat.” He rotates the other direction when Taehyung’s attempts to uppercut him, “I knew you would not be difficult to defeat from the moment I threw you against that tree in the fucking forest when you talked back to me. When you dared to disrespect and defile my intended with your tongue,” Jungkook’s fist ascends toward his maw, but the brown-haired wolf holds up both arms in front of his face to block. The force of the blow knocks his arms away from his face, one of his elbows pushed up into an area of his arm that it doesn’t belong as he curses loudly and the wolf staggers backward away from Jungkook, who mocks,  “I should take your tongue for all its slander, but taking that ego and pride from you will hurt you more than that ever could.”

Jimin sprints so that he’s waiting on the opposite side of your alpha, but before his outstretched foot can make contact with Jungkook’s stomach, his calf is caught by Jungkook’s fingers. Your alpha keeps that leg in his hold, his claws elongating and puncturing the flesh there so that Jimin winces and cries out.

Momentarily seized by the pain, Jimin grabs at his leg while Jungkook reprimands, “and you, Jimin…You used to be such a good friend to me. I have missed your presence and friendship.” He headbutts the male, “Were you not distracted by Taehyung, you might have actually made me break a sweat.”

The scraunch of dirt sounds from behind him, and Jungkook crouches as Taehyung catapults himself toward him. He hurls Jimin to the ground, and Taehyung’s teeth embed themselves into Jimin’s chest as the two tumble to the ground. In the scuffle, Jungkook’s claws that had been lodged in Jimin’s thigh had cut through his flesh like it was fluid, and blood sprays all around them before Jimin lands with a deafening thump on the dirt that is stirred up in a cloud around the males.

When it clears, a motionless Jimin is lain under Taehyung, who extracts his claws from around his heart and rises without even glancing his direction. Crimson gushes from the downed alpha’s wounds, his skin torn and mangled from his thigh all the way to his foot where his lifeblood flows out of him like a red sea. Bone peeks from beneath the five angry incisions that sever his skin from itself along his leg and his chest heaves with labor where the blood pushes itself out from the five punctures around his heart.

Agitation dots your alpha’s face where Jimin’s blood does not, his entire chest now speckled with crimson that you had not put there.

He had not wanted this to end in death for any under his charge.

“This is your fault, Jeon,” Taehyung spits, “If you had just fucking stood still, you would be on the fucking ground right now, and your little bitch would already be mine.”

That has your alpha’s irises lifting to his. They are colder than ice as he narrows them, “First you defile Jimin, who became your friend because I told him to, and then you insult my intended. Tell me, Taehyung, whose fault is it that you can’t even use your fucking shoulder where my claws severed some of the nerves there when the sun was setting?”

“Hmm,” Taehyung puts a bloody hand to his chin, “I would say it was the she-wolf who is to blame. I wanted to fuck her, and she didn’t want me to. You got in the way.”

“You will never touch her,” Jungkook lifts his lip so his teeth are on display, “and you will never have her,” your alpha growls, “not as long as I live and fucking breathe. I’ll break every bone in your body starting from your toes to your ribs if that’s what it takes to make you understand that.”

“Just as long as it’s not my face. I need that,” Taehyung’s sarcasm is loud, “the bitches I screw love it too much.”

With that, Jungkook roars so even the mountains beyond shake, and he rushes forward toward the brown-haired alpha. He moves with such speed that even the wind cannot blow past him, and it is over in seconds.

One second, your alpha is in front of the older wolf. The next, he’s sliding along the ground under Taehyung’s parted legs, the dirt scattering around him like the bones of prey after a hunt. Jungkook puts one arm out to steady himself before he turns off his heel and rises so he’s stood

behind the unexpecting alpha, and there’s no time for Taehyung to react before both of your alpha’s bloodied claws cut through the air like daggers and he’s dug them deep into the other alpha’s shoulders. Taehyung wails in pain as his freshly dressed wounds are reopened next to five new wounds on his other shoulder where red drips slowly from both shoulders down his bare, naked chest.

He thrashes in your alpha’s hold, but your alpha is stronger, and he knocks Taehyung’s knees out from under him so that he falls onto them in the black dirt.

“You’ve lost once again, you fool,” Jungkook utters, his claws tearing at the other’s flesh every time he thrashes, “now you can atone, at least a little, in your defeat.”

As they are, they both face you, and your alpha’s irises pierce yours when he orders, “Tell my intended that you’re sorry for debasing her with your speech and your actions. Tell her you will never do it again. That you’ll never pursue her again.”

Taehyung snaps, “This isn’t over yet.”

“Oh, but it is,” your alpha decides with derision, “It very much is.”

Taehyung attempts to wriggle out of his hold. Jungkook punishes him, his flesh tearing and ripping where Jungkook twists his claws deeper into him. Taehyung bellows in agony. More blood scatters down his back.

Jungkook huffs, only to extricate his claws from the male’s shoulders and kick him square in the back so that he falls to chest, his arms giving out on him with the way that the nerves had been cut and rearranged in the gory mutilation of his shoulders where flabs of skin barely hang on by a thread.

“Say it,” Jungkook orders as he stands tall above him. “I’m growing weary of waiting. I don’t want to have to use Alpha’s Bidding on you, but I will if I must.”

Taehyung remains silent minus the coughs where more blood spews forth from his lips. He must have bitten his tongue in the fall.

Though he can’t use his dislocated arm, he can still use his other one. That, and his legs.

Before he can even get his first foot on the ground, Jungkook’s hand darts out and his fingers project themselves over and around Taehyung’s neck so that he is held up under Jungkook’s digits. The Pack Alpha squeezes with enough force that Taehyung’s face begins to turn red, his breaths stuttering as his arms unsuccessfully attempt to pull the raven-haired alpha off.

“You’re weak, Taehyung. You always have been, and you always will be. Now give the fuck up already.” Your alpha urges him, the bite in his tone making the wolves around you shudder.

“I’d rather be fucking exiled.” Taehyung attempts to throw his only remaining good arm behind him, but Jungkook seizes his bicep in an iron grip.

Your alpha sighs with exasperation, tsking, “You really should know when to give up, you motherfucker.”

 “You don’t say,” Taehyung goads.  

Jungkook’s eyes narrow, his golden irises flickering as he mulls it over. Those irises settle on yours, and then your alpha’s lips set in a thin line before he acts.

 There’s no hesitation when he twists Taehyung’s arm into an unnatural angle, the crack of bones filling the air in warning as the wolf on his knees hisses and howls in agony.

“No,” Jungkook determines, “that would be too easy.” Jungkook’s teeth sharpen and shift so that they are pointed like blades as he growls, “Running would let you forget. But suffering, “ his canines elongate until they extend below his lower lip, “your suffering will haunt you as a wraith for the rest of your life.”

The word has hardly left his lips before Jungkook wrenches Taehyung’s thin arm up, his teeth flashing menacingly before they disappear into Taehyung’s hand, the sickening crack of bones breaking under his teeth as he bites down hard enough that his teeth penetrate the opposite side of his appendage. The male screams, his fingers twitching uncontrollably as blood bursts forth into Jungkook’s mouth.

It is fetid as bile. It is putrid. It is gamy, and Jungkook blanches at its disgusting tang so unlike the sweet sugary taste of your own.

“As much of a thorn in my side as you’ve been, I do not want to see any of the males under my watch be killed. However,” Jungkook throws his head back, his teeth dislodging from around Taehyung’s palm so that an ovular junction of dark holes arc over and under both sides of his hand and then Jungkook’s hoicking crimson spit from his mouth, “that doesn’t mean I won’t hurt you for what you’ve done.” He releases Taehyung’s deformed arm that is now bent at an odd direction, his jaw clenching as he says, “It doesn’t mean you are not due for discipline since you seem to have forgotten basic respect and decency.”

“I’ve got plenty of th-“

Before the downed mall can finish, Jungkook slices his serrated claws once across the brown-haired alpha’s back, his expression hardening even though the captured male yelps through the stinging sensations left in his wake, “Silence. I will not hear any more defiance or disrespect from you. You will give me your fealty, or I will make you hurt so much that you’ll never even remember what it was like when you could wake up in the morning and use all of your fucking limbs,” he yanks back on Taehyung’s neck, four of his fingers pricking crescents on one side and his thumb pressing tightly in on the other, his claws dangerously hovering over his nape. Like this, your alpha presents the fallen male to you as he continues, “and you will beg for forgiveness on your hands and knees for daring to deflower my mate in mind and in body, “with the hand that does not hold Taehyung captive, Jungkook’s long, curved claws shear the fallen alpha’s back along the unmarked half, and Taehyung’s eyes go white at that, blood bubbling in his throat as the will to fight falls from him with his blood while Jungkook finishes, “and you will bear these marks I’ve scarred you with for eternity, so that not even the gods may forget your faithless acts of lies and licentiousness with the unknowing omegas you defiled.”

It takes until his cheeks begin to turn blue for him to give a choked sound of defeat, his arms falling loosely at his sides as Jungkook tosses him to the ground as if he were nothing more but a piece of meat next to Jimin, who is still as a corpse next to him.

You grow wetter between your thighs at the display of your alpha’s power. You’d always known he was capable and that he was formidable, but seeing him reduce the pack’s strongest to nothing…it was arousing.  

Your alpha bends over between both of the fallen wolves, and then grabs a fistful of hair atop both of their heads and lifts their chins up so that you can see both of their faces.

Taehyung’s face is almost untouched save for the dirt and blood that have caked themselves onto his chin and cheeks. Jimin’s lids are slow to open and close, crimson dribbling from both sides of his stained lips. He is still lain on his back with pieces of his flesh hanging from his leg, the white of his bone peeking through small sections down his leg while his pectorals rising up and down heavily as he heaves air out of his system. His life essence trails sadly down the sides of his ribs.

Taehyung has not fared any better. The bones in both of his arms have been shattered and moved to areas that bones didn’t belong, and his back is marked in several puckered, open valleys of red, angry skin joined by rivers of crimson that make an ‘x’ shape down his back.  His limbs are thrown about him where he is prostrate in the dirt next to Jimin.

“This battle is over.” Jungkook states with finality. “Neither of you can continue.”

“I,” Jimin weakly rasps through the blood that bubbles up his throat, “I yield to you, Jungkook. You have beaten me.”

Jungkook’s fingers unthread themselves from Jimin’s hair, his skull landing softly on the ground as Jungkook guides it down. Despite everything, Jimin had once been his friend. Seeing him like this…it was not easy even for the Pack Alpha.

“Get him to the healers. He will bleed out if he’s not tended to immediately.” Jungkook commands, the emotion in his voice held at bay because he knows Taehyung, like a hound, can sniff weakness and prey on it.

Two males depart from the crowd of wolves around them. They do not question your alpha as they lift him carefully off the ground and onto a mat of grass that is attached to a set of wooden poles on each end for them to hold. Before they can walk away, Jungkook holds his only free hand out.

The two males stop immediately.

“You will answer to me from here on,” Jungkook’s eyes blacken in the eclipse from light to dark, his words deep as he spills them, “voice to me your regrets before I have you removed from my sight.”

Jimin can hardly keep his eyes open anymore, his throat aching from wailing too much. Drowsiness from loss of blood makes his eyelids droop, and it’s all he can do to incline his head downward, his eyes closing as he manages, “I have many regrets. One of my biggest,” he hiccups,” was that I thought I could win against you.” Remorse shakes his voice as he lets Jungkook know, “The other was letting Taehyung manipulate me and losing not only our friendship, but the female, too, because of it.”

With that, he’s carried away into a dreamless sleep and the two males extricate him from the battlefield.

“Pussy,” Taehyung hacks up more blood.

“I don’t recall telling you that you could speak. Perhaps I need to give another demonstration to you of just how weak you are,” Jungkook’s other arm raises up, but before it can go near him, Taehyung cringes and buries his face into the dirt.

Taehyung shrieks, “No! Not my face!”

Jungkook lowers his arm, “You’re pathetic, Taehyung. Now give up.”

“Fine. Just don’t ruin my face,” he screws his eyeballs shut, “I was bluffing about what I said before, alright? Alright?”

“I have tried to be a reasonable male,” Jungkook’s fingers bend inward where he still grasps the other male’s hair, and Taehyung’s expression twists in discomfort as your alpha cautions, “But my patience with you is at its end. Yield to me before I break some more bones.”

Taehyung bites down on his tongue, but he has no other options. He knows he’s lost and that he now has no choice but to swallow his pride.

“I…I yield.”

“Good. Now tell her you’re sorry for everything. You had better mean it, or I’ll hurt you even more than I already have.” Jungkook warns.

“Like hell I’ll apologize to a woman.” He defiantly counters.

Your alpha growls, and he stomps with force down on the back of Taehyung’s knee, the bone shattering as he does. “I didn’t ask for your fucking opinion. Do it. Now.”

Taehyung shakes his head into the ground, his trembling digits digging into the dirt as the threads of pride that remain in him all but sever.

“Gods, that pride of yours is really something. Perhaps by losing it, you’ll finally gain some sense again.” Jungkook provokes before his heel bears down powerfully on Taehyung’s other knee, the ligaments beneath fracturing and splintering upon impact.

Taehyung groans in torment, and what little of his pride had been left is torn from the very base of his being as Jungkook whips Taehyung’s head back so that his spine is curved up at an odd angle.

A little while away, some alphas observe Taehyung with expressions of disinterest, disgust, and dismay contorting their countenance for his misconduct toward their leader. The others watch their leader with delight dancing in their eyes. As for the omegas, many cling to another at the gory spectacle. A few glare with hatred toward Taehyung, but many more look in awe at your alpha.

“Cough up the last of your pride, you imbecile, because none will be left after this. If you will not submit of your own accord, I’ll just make you.” Jungkook tosses him to the ground as if he were nothing but a ragdoll, his irises darkening like the night, his words cloaked in the veils of shadows. “I command you to get on your hands and knees. You are to beg my mate for her forgiveness for any time you so much as looked at, thought of, or treated her in a way you knew I would be unhappy with. Then, you’ll pledge your loyalty to me.”

How anyone could refuse Jungkook would never be anything you could comprehend, but under Alpha’s Bidding, no wolf could disobey he who was the strongest of them all.

Taehyung grunts as the wolf inside him moves, and despite the unbearable pain that it causes him, he cannot help it.

He bows his head and his mutilated arms, maimed back, and disfigured legs all fold under him as he bites out between blood, “Forgive me, my lady.”

Words do not find you with the silver dampening all thought in your head. And in your gut, you can’t find it in yourself to care what this male thinks, says, or does.

All that matters to you is the one who stands behind him. All that fills your vision is him, and soon, he was going to fill you.

“The days of your disobedience are over. You obey and you serve me. Tell me this is true.” Jungkook demands, his eyes black as ash and his voice gravelly.

Taehyung can’t even pick his head up, for he’d landed on his nose in the dirt. With his dilapidated arms, he’d not been able to break his fall. It’s a struggle for him to speak between sputtering out the dirt, but he cannot ignore the male standing above him even if he wanted to.

His wolf speaks for him, his defiance dripping out of him with his blood onto the ground at the victorious wolf’s feet. “You are true in what you say.”  

Jungkook considers him before bidding, “You will never seek my female ever again, and you will do as I say when I command it of you without question, or I will sever your fingers, your toes, your legs, and your fucking arms from your body with my own hands if I have to. Is that understood?”

Taehyung’s skin crawls at the order, fear setting its teeth on him.

The last of his resolve slithers away from him, his muscles slackening as he concedes, “Understood, Pack Alpha.”

“What does it feel like?” Jungkook cocks his head to the side.

“What does what feel like?” Taehyung’s shoulders slump weakly.

Your alpha’s grin is vicious when he reveals rows of sharp teeth, his canines protruding from under his upper lip, “To lose.”

Those golden irises of his land on you and then they’re scaling over you as in a silent journey to appraise you of injuries even though he’s the one in the middle of the battlefield. They grow brighter the longer they are set on you, and with his attention deposited only on you, he doesn’t hear the pounding of paws against the dirt behind him.

All the veins in your body run cold, panic stabbing you through like an icicle. You are frozen in place under the numbing silver, but don’t care about the throbbing in your head from under your circlet that threatens to drag you into dark unconsciousness. Not even that can snuff out the scream that cuts through the air as a shrill sound rifts through your throat in the pitch of it that leaves the ears of every wolf in the vicinity ringing.

Those golden irises that are bright as the sunrise go dim as the dusk under the shadow of russet fur and snapping jaws.

#alpha!jungkook #werewolf!jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook #bts smut #jungkook fanfic #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #dom!jungkook #alpha jungkook x omega reader #jungkook x you #bts abo

[a-libra-writes]

👉👈 can i get some nicodeme savoy romantic hcs please? Im thinking he and s/o (or crush) probably work together or smth bc that's how i personally see a relationship with him or even Serafine working, but feel free to go about it how you like ^^

Hehe I got a bevy of Nico requests, this one is gonna be some Romantic HC's (like ive got with the others) with additional HCs of working with him on the bottom!

Nico's a pretty easy guy to start flirting with. If there's a handsome fellow or lovely lady who wants his attention, who is he to refuse? He takes it in stride, not really pushing or pursuing too hard - you set the speed. The only time he'll put on the brakes is if you're clearly angling for something serious; Nico is quite upfront about wanting a more casual relationship.

While he's flirting with you, Serafine likes to do the same, even if just to bug him or interrupt. They've always been like this with each other's romantic interests, and have even shared flings. Note if you aren't comfortable with it or aren't interested in women, she picks up quickly and doesn't continue her flirtations. The teasing will be endless, though. No escape.

(Sometimes it actually bugs him out his sister will interrupt right when the flirting gets to something more. He just makes a mental note to pay her back later.)

Nico definitely takes you places that aren't traditional dating spots ... The Marigold room, boxing matches, rowdy and cramped speakeasies he heard about from a cousin of a friend of a friend. While he'll also go places you suggest, these spots are where he seems to be most relaxed and in his element. And if you're masc or present as such, it's much easier to be physically affectionate and open in those underground places.

Also, showing you off is fun! Nico will say as much. Whether you're at his side or in his lap, he has a comfortable yet steady arm around you to make it clear who you're with. He really loves it when people try to flirt anyway, just so he can stop them short with a "They're a little occupied, don't you think?" and give you a kiss right on the neck. He is shameless.

Actually, he thinks it's kind of funny when others flirt with you, and then you immediately shoot them down once he shows up. Huge ego boost, as if he needs any more. Almost makes being late to the date worth it.

And on that note, Nico is a very affectionate guy. He's most likely going to be the bigger person between you two, which he likes. Nico likes picking you up like it's nothing, giving you big squeezing hugs, and carrying you around. It's extra fun when you get flustered and embarrassed. He likes kisses and making out and really doesn't care who sees, though Serafine will toss something at him when it's time to stop and get a room.

Also, he's surprisingly conservative with his energy when he isn't fighting, so he likes lazy days with you, too. Resting his head in your lap, rubbing his cheeks against your's when you wake up together and going back to sleep. He's actually pretty damn content with just snuggling. It's fun when you're smaller because he can just lean and flop on you and you can't do much to move him. Serafine knows if he doesn't come home, he's probably at your place, so if she needs him she drives by there and blares her horn until he comes out. Oh, and if you like his accent, he's definitely playing it up and thinking up silly petnames for you.

(Not a serious relationship tho)

He doesn't like talking about the relationship being "exclusive", just stating that he'd rather not be tied down and he doesn't get why you'd want to complicate things. That's the claim, but it's pretty clear to his sister that he's lost interest in his other dalliances. Nico just shrugs and tells her they aren't as fun. She tries to suss out your feelings on the matter as well, but she'll always be on her brother's side, and she won't convince him to be something he's not.

You'll actually get the big guy talking about his childhood, and the swamp they nearly died in. He likes hearing about your's, especially if it was very different from how he grew up. If you're well-off he likes teasing about you being an "uptown cat" whose messing around with a stray, but it doesn't truly bother him. Nico might even be willing to meet some family members, but never in a formal setting, and he won't try to smooth his rough edges.

He is what he is, and there's really no changing it. Still, it's obvious Nico cares for you dearly, even if he doesn't wax poetic about it or go about it in a traditional way.

If you both work together, that's just fine for him - more time to spend with you, and you both would get closer much faster. Having to rely on someone in a gunfight and trust they won't chicken out or abandon you will do that.

The siblings might prefer having you on their jobs over Mordecai, if you're more prone to "fun" and chaos like they are. Nico likes to show off for you and flirt mid-firefight, and just laughs if you scold him. He's more situationally aware than he appears, though; if you're in danger he's quick to leap to action, just as he would for his sister.

He's probably gotten himself hurt doing that, though he isn't bothered by it. Nico has a remarkably high pain tolerance and would probably walk off a bullet wound if you and his sister didn't stop him. More than once he's showed up to your home bloody, having gone to you before the Marigold doctor. Can you blame him for wanting to be fussed over by you instead of that old man? At least if he's hurt on a job you're both at, you can drive his ass to proper medical care.

Oh, and he's not above giving you a kiss before and after a job. Or during, if there's a quiet moment. Hey, he's still paying attention (probably). Serafine just rolls her eyes and tells him to focus (or you to stop encouraging him), but she plays along if Mordecai is around. The shadowy cat is making disgusted noises and very bluntly telling you two to focus and do those things elsewhere.

Also, work with the Savoy siblings long enough, and you're likely to be inducted into their whole 'Maitre Carrefour' group, and it ... may not be entirely optional. If you're loyal to the siblings, Nico will convince his sister to not bother you so much about it, but it's clear Serafine wants you to be a part of it. The three of you end up being a well-known trio amongst the Marigold gang, which would only make Mordecai more wary and unwilling to be 'friendly' with you three (actually, the blatant PDA probably bothers him more.)

#nico savoy x reader #lackadaisy x reader

[neonthewrite]

Shoot the Breeze

I have another GT July Prompt ready! The next up was "Secret" and I'm not sure why, but I really wanted to return to our little buddy borrower Chase. Takes place directly after Lies Under Duress. Can he actually keep a secret? Let's find out ...

Forbidden Fruit Snacks | Fried Potatoes | Minnie’s Supply Run | Nailed It | Orange You Glad | Almost a Thief | Lies Under Duress

~~~

Chase put a hand over his chest, outwardly mimicking a look of offense. Inwardly, he felt like the motion was necessary to keep his heart from fluttering right out of his ribcage. Even up on the table, even with the human sitting down, he felt so small. He’d been small for so long, but it didn’t hit him quite as hard as when he was forced to compare himself to a human. He hardly believed, in moments like this, that he used to be on the same scale. The disparity had long ago prompted him and Minnie to stop calling themselves human.

They were a world apart now. The living wall before him was proof enough of that.

Against such a foe, Chase’s only weapon was talk. “Sneaking around? You make it sound so, I dunno, nefarious or something. I just wanted an orange, man. You saw how big they are to me, you saying you wouldn’t go for a, a giant orange if you had a shot at one?”

At least the guy was easy to read. His brows knitted in clear bemusement and he even had to fight a smile that tried to come over his face. That meant he wasn’t mad, at least. “Dude, you … you keep avoiding my questions. Why?”

“Well, I don’t wanna answer ‘em,” Chase shot back, for his part letting a grin settle on his face. “If I really wanted to answer a bunch of ‘Oh my god what are you’ and ‘Why do you have my stuff’ questions I’d have let some giant someone catch me sooner.”

He saw on the human’s face that he had given something away. An instant later, the man leaned forward slightly, looking closer at him, appraising something. “So you’ve been doing this a while? Stealing stuff and hiding out right in my apartment?”

Chase shrank back a bit, shoulders inching up to his ears and stomach quivering. “Wh-who said that?” he countered, quieter but trying to keep up his relaxed tone. “You’re making the assumptions anyone would make, that’s all. Not my fault people are predictable. So I tend to avoid … everyone.”

The human’s mouth twisted into a thoughtful frown. Then he leaned back in his chair again. One hand absently drummed at the edge of the table‒Chase felt every tap where he sat‒and the other dragged through his wavy brown hair. “Okay. Okay. We’re off to a weird start, little dude. We can at least agree on that, right?”

Chase’s eyebrows shot up. Did he actually convince the guy of something? “Sure, sure, I mean it’s understandable, right? But I can get out of your way shortly‒”

“Hang on,” the human interrupted, that amusement returning. “You’re not off the hook yet. But I’ll take a step back here. I’m Jacob. Nice to meet you, maybe, if you’ll tell me why you’re sneaking around in my apartment, mister …?”

Chase pursed his lips and didn’t take the bait. “So what’s your secret, Jacob? One of your parents a, what’s it called, a bulldozer? A mountain, maybe?”

Jacob sighed. He was disappointed, but not quite angry, based on the smile that still twitched at the corner of his mouth. Chase was entertaining him, which was probably a good sign. An angry human would be too much to deal with, no matter what few advantages he and Minnie had discovered since shrinking down. Keeping the guy laughing kept Chase out of worse trouble.

The human leaned his chin on his elbow, a casual stance that loomed overhead all the same. “Something like that,” he answered. Chase hadn’t expected him to roll so well with his banter, but it made him like the guy a tiny bit more, despite everything. “Got a long, storied tradition of being mountains in the family. Are you part mouse?”

Chase winced. It was a fair turn. But having his own size pointed out always came with that old sting. “Oh he’s got jokes! Low hanging fruit, dude.”

Jacob shrugged. “You can’t reach anything higher, short stuff, might as well keep things fair, right?”

Chase’s jaw dropped in a stunned grin. “Ha! Okay! You are‒you’re funny, Jacob.” Chase was surprised to find himself really meaning it. In another life, he probably would have been friends with this guy.

“Thanks. I try. But I’m still wondering what you are, little dude. And why you’re really here.”

“Why are any of us here,” Chase shot back, though his following chuckle was a bit more nervous than he wanted. Jacob, still amused, wasn’t budging. He remained looming overhead, calm as could be but putting pressure into the air all the same, and Chase still had no ideas on how to help himself. “I mean. You said it yourself. I’m just. Just a little dude. And I said it myself. I was trying to take an orange. No big secrets there.”

Jacob pondered it, and Chase watched for signs of frustration, or maybe of further amusement on that giant face. The guy had never seemed like the angry type, from what observations Chase had made of him in the past. He might be a reasonable person in most respects. Finding some miniature thief in his home could well test those limits.

“Will you at least tell me a name? I don’t want to just keep calling you ‘little guy’ or whatever else. It’s a little weird.”

“That … is a reasonable ask,” Chase admitted. He also wasn’t sure how long he could stand the nicknames, and Jacob wasn’t demanding anything. What could he possibly glean with just a name? “I’m Chase. And it’s not because I like having things coming after me. So no cat and mouse, Jake.”

That earned a bemused frown, Jacob’s brow knitting and his mouth twisting. “Noted. Don’t think that’d be necessary, seeing as I already caught ya.” He glanced away for a moment, straightening where he sat. “Listen, Chase, I don’t think this talk is over, but I didn’t expect getting a single straight answer would take that much time, and I have some other stuff I need to do today.” His focus returned to Chase and felt like a physical weight. “What are the chances you’ll still be here when I get back?”

“What? If you just leave? Zero, buddy. Are you kidding? Soon as you’re out of sight I’m gonna bounce.” Chase’s heart fluttered again, and he scolded himself inwardly. Would Jacob have believed him if he said he’d wait? Then he could just leave anyway.

“That’s what I thought,” Jacob said, that faint smile returning. His hand approached, prompting Chase to all but leap to his feet again. “C’mere.”

Chase stumbled backwards and came up with a hundred stupid lies, all running rapid fire through his head but none of them sounding like they’d even make Jacob pause and think. He was usually so good at coming up with plans, at getting by just in time.

He was all out of close calls. Jacob’s enormous hand was upon him seconds later, fingers longer than Chase was tall curling behind him, gathering him up in a grip he wouldn’t be able to see out of if Jacob closed his fist entirely. As it was, Chase had a view of the ceiling as he was hoisted all too easily off the table, like he weighed nothing. His few ounces probably didn’t feel like much at all, really. He left the table behind, and the world lurched as Jacob stepped around the furniture towards whatever goal he’d decided on.

“Waitasecond, Jacob,” Chase said, pushing against the palm he was pinned to. “I’m totally ready to talk more. Let’s chat now, about whatever you want. Let’s, what do they say, let’s ‘shoot the breeze’ or whatever.”

Jacob chuckled and it shook his hand with the noise, enough that Chase felt every bit of it. “We’ll shoot the breeze all you want, later. I gotta make an appointment. Won’t be long. You’ll be fine chilling here ‘til I get back.”

Chase, surprisingly, didn’t doubt it. He’d be unharmed, and so far Jacob held him carefully, if securely and almost entirely obscured in a hand. But he’d be trapped. He heard a cabinet open, then close. Then another. Jacob must be looking for something to trap him with.

That sting was back, with the reminder that a simple kitchen tool would be enough to trap him.

His stomach lurched as Jacob turned, maybe towards the kitchen counters. He’d found something. Chase suddenly squirmed, tried to do something to change what was about to happen. He’d been out of his depth since the human came back and found him on the counter. All because he’d wanted to one-up his sister in a made up game that didn’t matter at all now.

He opened his mouth to spout off another protest, some more fast talk to get Jacob to hesitate, keep the human distracted. As he did, the hand lowered again, far too fast and sudden, and the only sound Chase managed was a strangled yelp while his whole body flinched from the falling sensation.

He was set down quickly on the counter top, and there was a shadow looming over him. He threw his hands over his head on instinct. It meant he missed whatever it was settling down on the counter over him, though he felt it hit the surface under his kneeling posture. When he looked up, a metal dome sat over him, pocked with holes in an even pattern all around and letting in dappled light.

 A strainer. It left him in a space the size of a decently sized room. He could even stand up if he wanted and probably not reach the top of the dome if he stretched his arms.

The light changed on one side as Jacob leaned in to peer through the holes. Small, disjointed glimpses of his face loomed just outside of Chase’s prison. “Just … wait in there for a while, okay? I won’t be gone that long.”

Chase huffed and slumped in an obvious pout. “Sure, man, I’ll just. I’ll just make myself comfortable. What the god damn hell, it’s almost cozy.”

Jacob retreated again. When he answered, that smile still colored his voice. “You’ll be okay, Chase. It’s only for a little bit.”

Chase had lost his desire to argue. He was barely sure he’d actually had a whole conversation with a human over at the table, without feeling all that much danger. He certainly felt the danger now, trapped under a strainer until whenever Jacob decided to come home. Chase had felt like he might control the conversation if only he said the right words, but it hadn’t worked. He knelt in the dim lighting and listened as Jacob left the room, and eventually, the apartment itself.

“Damn. That really could have gone better.”

#gtjuly #gtjuly2023 #mywriting #chase lisong #jacob andris #borrower!chase #gt #g/t #giant tiny #g/t handheld #trapped #caught #borrowers

[havendance]

Finally returning to my version of the AU where Jason lives because Dick dies:

Let's get this out of the way: this is not an AU where Dick dies in Ethiopia instead of Jason. In fact, in this AU, no one makes it out to Ethiopia at all. 

I'm still doing my NTT reading, but we're going to mess with the timeline somewhat. Jason is benched because of the whole Garzonas incident, but before he can run off to Ethiopia and get himself killed, Dick Grayson dies. 

The Titans aren't in space because that complicates the timing and logistics and whatnot, so instead, let's say, hmmm, Brother Blood did it. 

Bruce takes the news extremely poorly of course. Jason is now benched indefinitely because Bruce expresses his emotions through being controlling. Bruce also proceeds to go and try to boss around the Titans and take down Brother Blood. The Titans, who are also mourning their friend and have little love for Batman, don't take kindly to this. The following clusterf*** of a situation leads to Brother Blood manipulating circumstances in his favor so that he gets away with killing Dick, somehow. 

Following that disaster, no longer having the outlet of action, Bruce begins to sink into despair. He fights crime by rote and the mix of rage and despair his grief takes means he doesn't particularly care about the condition that both he and the people he fights come out in. 

Meanwhile, Jason is also upset. He and Dick had their rocky moments, sure, but they still had something that was almost brotherhood. He's upset that Dick is dead and guilty because part of him thinks he should feel worse. He fights with Bruce in the aftermath (words only, not blows) over the way Bruce is handling it: the way that he benched Jason and is pushing him away. Bruce responds by doing this even moreso. Jason in turn responds by purposefully avoiding Bruce. It's quite some time before they're in the same room as each other again. 

Tim is in school when he hears about Nightwing's death. For maximum angst, lets say that he died on live television while Brother Blood arranged things to either look like he was only acting in self-defense after the misguided and out of control Titans attacked him, or that it was a tragic accident that he tried and failed to stop. Maybe he fell to his death.

Tim also takes this poorly. Nightwing was his hero. His nightmares come back, his grades start to drop. He sneaks away from boarding school to attend Dick Grayson's funeral (mostly a closed, private ceremony, but he hides in the back) and again to visit his grave after one too many sleepless nights, leaving a copy of the picture of them at the circus.

(I know A Death in the Family takes place in the spring, but we're putting Dick's death in the fall in this AU for school year timeline purposes.) 

The school calls Tim's parents about this and they're so worried about it that they decide to cut their business short and come home early. This would've been a good choice on their part if this weren't also a 'Tim joins the Batfam AU'. As it is though, I need to make Tim an orphan somehow and they both die in a tragic plane accident, or maybe in a car crash on the way to the airport. 

This devestates Tim even further and he becomes very depressed :( 

But back to Jason. Frustrated with Bruce and his own roiling emotions, Jason decides to cope with his grief in the traditional (very healthy) bat way by putting on a mask and fighting crime. Since Robin is still benched and Jason is still avoiding Bruce, he puts together a new costume. It's probably very emo and edgy with lots of reds and blacks; he calls himself, hmmm, let's say Corvus (Latin for crow) to stick with the bird theme. 

While sneaking out at night to dispense vigilante justice, he runs into none other than the Huntress! 

Helena can see some of herself in the kid, in the way he fights like there's  something trying to break free, the way they share similar ideas about what Justice sometimes entails. And besides, he's a kid, she doesn't want anything to happen to him. So she takes him under her wing. 

With her coming off of a two year hiatus, he's got nearly as much experience as she has. Helena can offer a certain maturity and more life experience. Jason, in turn, knows more about detective work. (He was trained by Batman; She's self-taught) 

Jason confides in her that he wants to kill the man who killed his brother. Helena's torn because, on the one hand, that was what she was after. That was what she did. But on the other, Jason's a boy. He's still young. She was an adult when she did it. She knew what she was getting into. She doesn't know if Jason does. 

(Also, I think I've heard that Jason having mommy-issues were a thing? Maybe play with those?) 

Tim, meanwhile, is in foster care probably, but has definitely been transferred to the public school system and has ended up in none other than Helena Bertinelli's English class. 

(He doesn’t know that she's a vigilante and is too depressed to find out.) 

In the habit of sneaking away to visit Dick's grave, he runs into Jason once. 

He met Dick once, he says when Jason asks him why he's there. It's kind of stupid, he admits, he didn't even know him, so why does his death hurt so much? 

I'm going to borrow an idea from scintilly's one dick & tim au now and say that there's that one corrupt Drake Industries executive who's embezzling money and framing a 13 year old orphan for it. Tim is too depressed to really clock when the police start asking pointed questions, but Helena is getting a bad feeling about how the cops keep pulling him out of class to question him. She begins to investigate and Jason joins her. 

Jason and Helena uncover what's going on and this somehow culminates in a cool action sequence where Huntress and Corvus have to save Tim from a hitman that the exec sent after him or something, idk 

The important part is that, when everything's done, Tim gets a good look at Huntress for the first time and has just enough adrenaline flowing through his brains to make an intuitive leap. 

"You're my English teacher," he says. 

When pressed why, he admits that he was her meeting with Jason once after school. (He doesn't name Jason, he gestures at Corvus.) When asked why he knew it was Corvus, he's like "Well, you used to be the new Robin." 

Jason takes offense at being called the new Robin (he's been doing this for two years!) and also wants to know how Tim recognized him out of costume. 

Tim clams up. When pressed, he starts crying and rambling about quadruple somersaults and how everyone who could do them are dead and Jason eventually pieces that together with what he remembers from that one time he met Tim at Dick's grave to figure out what's going on. 

And if he knows Dick's ID and he knows Jason's then... "Do you know who Batman is?" he asks. 

Tim, still crying, nods. 

Jason swears. Well, they can't just leave him alone after all of that can they? 

I can get a fostering license, Helena says. 

Jason shakes his head. I know a guy, he says. 

Is your guy Batman? she asks. 

Jason's like, you don't know that. 

(It is Batman) 

So they drop Tim off somewhere safe until things can be finalized. (Tim makes many promises about how he isn't going to tell anyone anything) and Jason goes off to talk to Bruce for the first time in forever. 

While all of this has been going on, Bruce has continued to self-destruct: he's constantly coming home beat to hell, the GCPD are whispering about maybe taking down the giant bat spotlight they unofficially have on the roof, etc etc. 

Jason hasn't been in the same room as Bruce in over two months because of grief and also the whole hiding the fact that he's been sneaking out as an unsanctioned vigilante thing. When he finally seeks out Bruce to talk to him about Tim, and sees how bad of a shape the man is in, he breaks down. 

Look, Jason's been going through a lot and that's his dad who looks half-dead. Jason doesn't want to lose a father as well as a brother. 

They finally get to have a heart to heart where Jason talks about his feelings and admits what he's been getting up to. Bruce listens and remembers that he has more than one son and promises to try and do better by Jason. They hug. It's all very sweet. 

Then, when that's done and Jason remembers why he went looking for Bruce in the first place, he's like, "So, uh, there's something else..." 

Congratulations, Bruce! It's a boy! 

So Tim becomes fostered by Bruce Wayne, Jason goes back to being Robin, and slowly things get better. 

Jason continues to go hang out with Helena, and Tim stays as a student in her class. They all hang out together sometimes and Helena shows Tim how to use a crossbow. 

Reusing one of my old ideas and going with Tim becomes Robin during No Man's Land when he and Jason run away into the restricted zone as Batman & Robin 2.0, only in this version they also team up with Helena during it. 

I also feel like Tim's Robin costume should integrate the color blue in it somehow to honor Dick. 

Ummm, skip forward some to get to the part of this AU I was originally thinking about (making fanon Jason & Tim about Dick & Tim) 

Dick Grayson is resurrected somehow by Brother Blood. Unfortunately, this means that he is brainwashed and evil. 

(Part of me wonders if this should be a mainly Teen Titans story since Dick died under the Titan's editorial) 

Anyway, Dick, probably called something edge like "Bloodwing" or something, is sent to kill Robin. While attacking Tim, he sees the picture of him and his parents with Tim at the circus and it causes the brainwashing to crack.  

Instead of killing Tim, he kidnaps him and brings him back to Brother Blood's cult. They proceed to have a very bad time together and probably develop a codependent relationship between brainwashing sessions and cult stuff and, idk, other whumpy stuff. 

The rest of the Teen Titans show up and save the day. Dick and Tim get deprogrammed. There are lots of tearful reunions between Dick and his friends/family. 

Happy endings (until the next major event that is) 

#jason todd #tim drake #helena bertinelli #the cooler gotham antihero #my au ideas #jason lives dick dies au #carthago delenda est #dc #bats + birds + affiliated

[blonditarot]

How Enhypen members see Jay?

Heeseung

All major arcanas

I’m hearing an unstoppable force. Jay wants it he goes and gets it. He’s very passionate about his job, always ready to take action. I don’t know there’s also something about how Jay moves his body. Heeseung might thinks he’s a great dancer. He is also somehow restricted. As if Jay didn’t see what he is doing. He belittles himself. Heeseung might think Jay is a bit toxic. He refuse to see some things that are obvious to him (I got a 4 of cups rev to clarify this). Heeseung thinks Jay should accept that he’s not perfect (I feel that Jay might be working hard to make everything he does on stage to look perfect and he’s very ambitious, he never stops improving himself, he always want more, let’s say he has a tank with 10 fish that he worked hard to get, once he gets it he’s not happy with it because he could always have 12 fish, he’s never content) and just be happy with where he is.

Jake

That’s all I got from him. He might think Jay lack some harmony in his life, that he is unbalanced and did some bad choices. I can dive deeper because I’m getting a headache. I’m also picking up Jay might be in a bad place right now and tries to purposefully pick up fights

Sunghoon

A hardworking star. Jay knows his purpose. He works very hard to achieve his goals and when he is focused on something there’s no way he’ll get distracted by anything. He is disciplined. Sunghoon thinks he is diligent in his work. He tends to do everything the same (in a good way) he holds a certain standard on stage that he always manages to meet. However he can be cold and emotionally unbalanced. He’s way too focused on the material side of his life and ignores his emotions (and quite often other people’s feelings as well)

Sunoo

Sunoo thinks Jay is a page. He holds his coin with admiration and passion. Always tries something new, learning something new, he wants to obtain as many skills as possible. He always wants to learn (somebody that will forever remain a student because of Jay’s choice) but Sunoo thinks he should take a break. He needs to pause with his ambitions and try to look at his life from a different perspective because he might miss something. „Slow down and have some fun”

Jungwon

He doesn’t listen to others. He’s stuck in his ways, very traditional and obedient. He doesn’t like to break the rules (by that I mean social norms). He doesn’t acknowledge the fact somebody might have different beliefs than him. If you will try to talk him out of something it’s gonna be talking to a wall. But he always planning his future, checking every road ahead of him to carefully choose the best one. But that hanged man says Jungwoon thinks Jay should try to see the world from other people’s perspective. He should include others opinions in making decisions instead of standing alone with a world in his hand „because the world belongs to all of us”

Ni-ki

Why are the cards repeated?

Srsly. His thoughts are the same as all of the members above. Hardworking, diligent, ambitious, should go on vacation to reevaluate his plans for the future.

And now I also got the king of cups rev. What is this? I’m not gonna write for 6th time that he doesn’t understand what emotions are

#enhypen tarot #kpop tarot #jay tarot

[pls-hold-me-im-justa-weeb]

Training With Zoro P.5 (Eventual Smut) Y/N x Zoro

🍶 wc: 3.2K

NO SMUT YET I'M SORRY BUT I SWEAR IT'LL HAPPEN

P.1 P.2 P.3 P.4

I cut out the part about reader cooking a comfort meal and everyone liking it, which you can read on my AO3 if you're interested :) But briefly, reader needed comfort after thinking it's hopeless with Zoro, so they cooked a comfort meal. Eventually everyone (except Zoro) tried it and liked it, so you told Sanji he should cook it some time. He said no, because it's your recipe and he doesn't want to take that away from you. Just mugiwara family fluff :3 I also want it known I am white af, so in no way shape or form am I BIPOC. Please let me know if I should correct anything. This is simply a reflection of intolerance that is present against different nations in One Piece, no matter the race.

Warnings: reader feeling kinda like they don't belong, perversion (by other ppl) of a cultural dance, reader insecure about body, platonic(ish) bathing with Zoro, mild heatstroke, super sore muscles, taking pain medicine, so exhausted reader is acting drunk.

-----

I’m used to mental pain, so it shouldn’t add that much, right?

The rest of the afternoon and early evening was spent lounging around on the deck, hanging out with Brook. He had both his guitar and violin out, alternating between them as he experimented with melodies. You let the music wash over you, tapping your finger to the beat of the faster songs, and swaying to the slower ones. You closed your eyes, picturing how you would dance to them all, sketching brief choreographies in mind’s eye, basing your movements off the traditional dancing you did growing up. It was only when the skeleton stopped to drink tea that you remembered something he had said yesterday when the storm first hit.

“Brook?”

“Hm?” he hummed as he handed you a teacup balanced on a saucer. You smiled and took it gratefully.

“Yesterday… with the storm… you said something.”

“I did?”

“You said… that you didn’t know where you were supposed to be or what you were supposed to be doing.”

“Ah. That’s right. What about it?”

“I… what… have you… did you struggle to find how you contributed to this crew? Like you’re a strong fighter and a great singer, so obviously there was a place for you. But…” you trailed off quietly, unsure of how to phrase what you wanted to say.

“Hmmm. I did. I didn’t think I contributed enough to this crew. I kept trying to prove myself, prove that they had a reason to keep me. I got underfoot for days, trying to help but I actually made things worse” he said, chuckling at the memories. You shifted, waiting for him to continue as he sipped his tea.

“I eventually ended up confronting Luffy, and he put my mind at ease. Everyone has a role on this ship because we’re all different human beings. We all contribute something to this journey we call life, building on people’s experiences when they interact with us. You have nothing to worry about. You are valuable to this crew simply because you’re here.”

You looked down at your lap where your teacup was held, fighting back the urge to cry.

“But I…” you started quietly. Brook interrupted you.

“You care for all of us, and that is enough. You keep our ship tidy, which is a feat in itself, but you do so much more. You talk with us, sharing your experiences, opinions, and empathy. You’re even sitting with me, enjoying my music. What is music if it’s not heard? You talk with everyone about what they’re interested in, letting them ramble and you ask questions, showing that you’re genuinely interested.”

He placed a skeletal hand on your shoulder. It felt odd- pokey and too light- but comforting none the less. You looked at his eye sockets, a shy, wobbly smile breaking through. You were sure he would be smiling gently at you if he had the lips to do so.

“You have enough heart for both of us. Because I have no heart! YOHOHOHOHO!”

You rolled your eyes at the dumb skeleton joke, chuckling despite yourself.

“Can I tell you something?” you asked. Zoro told you the crew wouldn’t mind… and if you wanted to dance again, you needed his help. He cocked his head expectantly, looking at you.

“Back home… I used to be a dancer. I used to perform the traditional cultural dances, and I was damn good at it. Unfortunately, I got an injury and couldn't dance to the performing level anymore… but I’m still not half bad”

“Oh really? Please… tell me about the music that played. I’ll humbly do my very best to replicate it so you may dance again, should you wish to do so” he said, picking up his violin. You grinned excitedly before it faded a little.

“Ah. But. The one I miss the most… it get’s a bad rep” you started, nervous. You’ve seen how the skeleton can get lost in his perverted thoughts.

“A dance that gets a bad reputation? How?”

“I… It’s about… spring. Welcoming the new life back into the world. About welcoming the fertility of the season, and it eventually changed to something that was seen as provocative. Of course, perverted pirates came and spread the news about how dancers were moving incredibly seductively. But… I think it’s beautiful. It’s graceful but difficult, fluid movements with hips and arms and your back” you explained. Your remembered of the satisfaction of how your movements flowed gracefully like the streams that trickled back to life after the snow, hands drawing shapes and patterns in the air as your legs lowered you up and down smoothly, your feet carrying you in twirls as you balanced on the balls of your feet. You didn’t notice the faint smile on your lips.

“I think it sounds beautiful. If you ask me to see it as a work of art that inspires the beauty of spring, I shall abide by that request to the best of my ability” Brook said. You looked at him, pulled out of your memories.

“That means a lot. Thank you” you said quietly, smiling at him. He took a sip  of his tea.

“So… tell me about the music” he said, gesturing to his instruments. You grinned, and opened your mouth in preparation to speak before the musician interrupted you.

“Ah. Excuse me” he said politely. You looked at him curiously. Your silent question was answered promptly as he farted loudly, then belched. You couldn’t help it. You burst out laughing, yelling at him in between breaths that he was disgusting and that he stinks. He joined in your laughter easily.

“Don’t encourage him!” Nami nagged, lounging near the helm. That only made you laugh harder.

That night, dinner was boisterous, but your muscles were quickly becoming more and more sore by the minute. Each knock against your thigh or arm by the rowdy bunch almost made you flinch. You felt a steady gaze on you through the meal, and you looked up multiple times to make eye contact with Zoro. You couldn’t decipher the look, and it didn’t help that his cheeks were nearly constantly puffed out with his large bites of food or deep swigs of his drink. How can he be so sexy and hot but also adorable?

Eventually, you excused yourself, having fully planned on going to your room to sleep away the pain. Apparently, someone had other plans. Not five minutes after you limped to your room and flopped face down on your bed, a loud knock rapped on the door. You groaned, and managed to roll to your back before calling out to come in. You had an idea of who it was, even through the haze of being half asleep.

“It’s me. You gonna use the bath salts tonight?” Zoro asked, leaning in the open doorway. You spared him a glance and sighed.

“Mmm. Maybe. I’m pretty tired though. Might just use them tomorrow” you muttered. He was quiet for a moment, shifting in place. You heard the clink of his swords.

“You should at least wash the muscle cream off.”

You groaned.

“I thought you said it would soak into the skin or something.”

“I never said that.”

You craned your neck, looking at him. You probably looked ridiculous in this position, but you didn’t care at the moment.

“If it won’t stain my clothing because it’s soaked in enough, why does it need to be washed off?”

“Hah? Do I look like Chopper to you? He only told me that it needs to be washed off at the end of the day, something about muscles cooling when you go to sleep”

You groaned again, relaxing your head back onto the mattress. Smart, Chopper. Getting him to take a bath every time he uses it. You chuckled tiredly as another thought popped up.

“You sure you’re just not trying to get me in the bath with you? Jealous that I took a one with Robin?”

You almost felt his posture stiffen.

“Why would I care you took a bath with Robin? Besides, it’s time I took a bath, and I pushed my body in training today. May as well draw one bath with the bath salts for the two of us at once.”

You grunted. He did have a point. It was rare enough that the man took a bath, and besides, he didn’t see you like that. You weren’t much to look at.

“Fine. But I’m not walking without more pain medicine” you conceded with a yawn. You glanced at him. He looked surprised at how easy you agreed. You scoffed, reaching for the pouches you had deposited on your bedside table earlier in the day. You tossed the one containing the salts to him before digging around to retrieve another dose of medicine from the other.

“Relax, hot shot. I won’t look if you’re shy” you teased. Your fingers uncorked the small bottle and you downed the medicine.

“I’m not shy! I wouldn’t ask you if I was shy, idiot!”

You snorted at his adamant reply.

“Shut up and follow me” he griped. You sighed, moaning as you hauled yourself out of bed. Your muscles twinged briefly before settling into a dull ache. You followed him to the bath house, passing a smirking Robin in the library. You rolled your eyes at her, dragging your tired body up the ladder. By the time you got to the undressing area, Zoro was only in his pants, his swords resting against the wall. As he undid the button and unzipped, you couldn’t help it. You wolf whistled, smirking. He snapped his head towards you, flushed. You giggled.

“Sorry. Couldn’t resist teasing you. You’re so fun to rile up” you said, turning away to undress. He grumbled under his breath, looking away. You looked away as soon as you caught a glimpse of his bare ass as he pulled the waistband down over his hips. He really was telling the truth earlier. He wasn’t wearing anything under his pants. Blushing slightly, you stripped from your outfit, underwear following closely as soon as you heard the door to the bathroom close. You took a deep breath, readying yourself for the absolutely sinful sight you knew you was about to bless your eyes. You heard the shower head running, the bath water splashing in the background. You wrapped a towel around yourself to preserve at least some modicum of modesty. Wait.

Wait. One showerhead. One. He’s using it. In there. Standing naked. Your thoughts stuttered to a halt as a blush overtook your face. You almost turned around and left right then.

“What the hell are you doing? Get in here! The bath is almost ready!” the swordsman yelled from the bathroom. You took a deep breath, clearing your mind and sending your body on autopilot. You opened the door, closing it quickly to avoid the loss of steam. That would be your saving grace in this sinful heaven you had managed to get yourself in.

“Calm your swords, Zoro. I’m here. Maybe I just wanted to give you a moment of privacy to wash your ass” you muttered. Good, good. Play it cool. Like this is completely normal. You heard him grunt, and you looked up. Your heart dropped into your stomach, and your fingers felt almost tingly. You weren’t breathing, but you didn’t care. You could die right now and be happy, feeling blessed.

He was standing with his side facing you, arms raised, showing off his biceps and forearms as he ran his hands through his water-soaked hair. Water dripped over his body, falling into crevices, and tracing the planes of his muscles. You followed a rivulet with your eye, tracing its path as it dripped from his thick fingers, down the back of his neck, over his shoulder blade, down the crevice of his spine, and curving as it met the dimples of his lower back. Your eyes trailed lower, seeing the outline of his toned ass that bled into thick, well-muscled thighs that were often hidden under his baggy pants. You ripped your eyes back to his face, one eye looking at you from the side. Water dripped from his sharp nose and ran down the side of his mouth. It dripped off his chiseled jaw to fall onto his plush pecs, following the hills of his abs, trailing down to the V that led directly to his cock. You swallowed. You couldn’t see it. It was strategically hidden behind his thick thigh and a veil of steam, but it was right there.

“Stop staring and get in the water.”

His demand snapped you out of your reverie. You focused back on his face.

“Huh?” you eloquently replied. He rolled his eyes at you.

“Get over here, idiot.”

“Right.”

You stepped forward, inhaling the steam.

“You need to take your towel off.”

“…yep.”

He snorted at your obviously flustered state. You hung your towel on the hooks on the back of the door, and turned around, placing your arms so you were still at least somewhat covered. He wasn’t looking at you, turned away and facing the wall.

“I won’t look until you say so. I remember what you said earlier... about being… ya know… about your body” he murmured quietly as you padded forward. You ripped your gaze from his ass, feeling like a perv once he said that.

“…thanks.”

He was silent, sighing into the hot water streaming from the showerhead. The two of you washed quietly, trading places as needed. Out of respect for him, you didn’t gawk at him like you did when you first came in. Though you really wanted to see what he was packing, you kept your gaze solely on his upper body. True to his word, he didn’t look at you. You guided him around the shower with pokes and prods on his biceps, leading to lighthearted bickering. Eventually, the two of you settled into the bath, fragrant from the salt Zoro had sprinkled in the water before you came in. You sighed as you felt your muscles ease and relax with the healing properties.

“Fuuuuck me this feels amazing” you moaned. You heard Zoro make a small noise, and you glanced at him. He was still looking away.

“You can look now” you said quietly. He glanced at you before looking at the water.

“I… I didn’t look at you either, you know” you muttered, looking out the window. The crescent moon was low in the sky, shining brightly through strands of thin clouds. You glanced at the man across from you, who met your gaze with a teasing raised brow.

“Yeah? Even in the beginning?”

You scowled, face flaming.

“Doesn’t count. You looked at me then too.”

He scoffed.

“Just your face”

You splashed him lightly with the water, still scowling.

“Good. Though there’s not much to look at though so… whatever I guess.”

“There’s lots to look at” he muttered, seemingly unwittingly. You cocked your head in confusion.

“Did you just call me fat?”

“What?! No! I-I-I… it’s just… you…”

Your quiet giggles quickly turned into full laughter at his frantic scrabbling. He finally stopped and glared at you, jutting his bottom lip out. Was he…?

“Awww are you pouting?”

“No!”

“You sure?”

“Yes! Now shut up so I can soak in peace!”

You giggled.

“Yes sir” you said mockingly. He tensed briefly at your reply and shifted his legs under the water. You narrowed your eyes, but dismissed it, exhaustion crashing over you again.

You must’ve fallen asleep, because the next thing you knew, there was a gentle hand stroking hair from your head. You were warm, too warm. Your head was leaning against something firm but with some give. You hummed, opening your eyes. You were in the bath still. Zoro was next to you, letting your head rest on his shoulder. Unthinkingly, you snuggled into him, grabbing his arm and cuddling it to your chest. You felt him stiffen.

“You awake now?”

Your head shot up, and a wave of dizziness made you slump back down. You groaned.

“How long?”

“Not very. About twenty minutes”

You hummed, blinking a few times.

“Dizzy” you slurred sleepily.

“Let’s get you out of here then. Can I carry you? I won’t look.”

You grunted an affirmative, but still whined when your comfy headrest rose out of your reach as he shifted. You tried to tilt your head up to look at him, but that made your dizziness even worse.

“I’m going to pick you up now” he warned. You tried to raise one arm, but felt it swaying. A hand grasped it, and wrapped it around the back of a wide neck. You felt one corded arm under your shoulder blades, and the other under your knees, and he lifted you carefully out of the bath. You groaned with the movement, letting your head loll into his chest.

“Let’s get you dressed and some water.” You could feel the vibration of his voice in his chest.

“Zoro?”

“Hm?”

“You’re good.”

“I’m good?”

“Mmhmm. A good person”

“Whatever you say.”

He placed you on the small bench in the changing area, ducking back into the bathroom to grab the towels. The room spun, and you swayed in your seat. A solid hand fell onto your shoulder.

“Maybe we should see Chopper”

“Poor Chopper. Me again? Poor guy” you muttered. The filter between your brain and mouth was completely gone, erased though exhaustion and dizziness.

“Can you dry off?” A towel was shoved into your hands, and you clumsily swiped at your torso and thighs, unable to dip down to dry your calves. You tried to dry your back, but you dropped the towel.

“Good enough. I’ll help you stand so put your underwear on.”

You were raised to standing, and you were only kept on your feet by the swordsman’s grip on your shoulders. You somehow managed to put on your underwear through muscle memory, though it was clumsily done. You moaned, utterly exhausted.

“’m sorry” you mumbled.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“You’re helping me so much. I’m not giving anything in return.”

“You don’t need to give anything in return. We’re crewmates”

“I love you guys.”

Zoro snorted.

“What are you, drunk? Raise your arms.” He instructed. You ended up lightly smacking his chin clumsily with a floppy hand, but still managed the task. He wrangled your slack body into your shirt and slid your pants back on.

“Fuckin hell it’s like dealing with a child.” He muttered.

“I think you’re good with kids. It’s adorable. You should let your childish side out more, other than arguing with Sanji” you swayed as you talked, more from exhaustion than dizziness as your body cooled.

“Thanks for the advice” Zoro replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“You’re welcome” you said cheerfully.

“Okay I’m going to carry you to the kitchen now.”

You nodded, moaning with a new wave of dizziness overcoming your senses with the movement.

“Strong man” you muttered as he slung you over his shoulder like a sack. He was obviously ignoring you at this point, which you were okay with. You were just so… tired.

You briefly remember someone coaxing you to drink some cold water, with some voices floating in the background, then strong arms tucking you into bed. The last thing you remember was a light kiss on the forehead, with a man whispering, “sleep well”.

#one piece fanfiction #one piece x reader #zoro x y/n #op zoro #with: zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #g/n reader #eventual relationship #eventual smut #mutual pining #reader is part of mugiwara kaizoku #reader is a simp #me too fr #op brook #mugiwara no ichimi #mugiwara family fluff #zoro x you #one piece fluff #mugiwara kaizoku #one piece #f!reader #m!reader #gn!reader

[swanqueensalad]

okay top 3 cute sq headcanons that you have right now and top 3 more angsty sq headcanons you have right now?

thank you for this anon!!! i love doing these <33

cute:

emma is actually so dad vibes she falls asleep on the couch every night the minute she, regina and henry start watching netflix. she kicks up such a fuss about what they watch then just straight up passes out. henry always complains and makes fun of her, but regina (though she would never say it) really likes it. it makes her feel very warm and safe and comforted to be snuggled up on emma's chest watching tv, feeling her breath rise and fall, listening to her silly occasional snores. because even asleep, emma never stops holding her. (and then emma wakes up at the end of the episode or the movie and insists she wasn't asleep and saw the whole thing)

every saturday morning, regina mills has a baking session. she is basically a pinterest mom who also is obsessed with organizing and scheduling, and baking is a hobby that benefits everyone, so it becomes part of her routine. emma is gradually learning to help: this means being annoying in the kitchen, eating ingredients, giving regina cuddles and neck kisses when she's trying to do something, and singing along badly to the music on the radio. though regina pretends to be annoyed, she secretly loves it. after henry grew out of helping her, she always baked alone until emma, and rarely got much joy out of it. now it's one of her favourite parts of the week. simple, peaceful, and happy. (and every time she bakes with emma and then they eat some of the freshly cooled goods together, it undoes cora's voice in the back of her head a little bit, every week her questionable relationship with food gets a little bit better)

as much as emma loves storybrooke, she sometimes misses the outside world, and so another tradition that develops is emma taking regina for date days out of town. they'll pick random towns, forests to hike in, and places to visit and take a leisurely drive, stop for food somewhere. for a while emma gets weirdly obsessed with weird thrift/antique stores and finding the dumbest stuff she can (regina and henry, when he hears, both tease her for 'keeping some Mr Gold genes after being the Dark One') and while regina makes fun, she secretly loves leafing through antique books and reading inscriptions left in them. also, whenever they speak to waitresses or shopkeepers on these outings, they have to make up different stories about how they met. every time, emma comes up with a different story and makes it as rambling and silly as possible, and every time regina smiles and shakes her head and sometimes inputs something funny that comes to mind.

angsty:

i've def spoken about this one before, but regina has nightmares very regularly. multiple times a week, about various things from her past (god knows there's enough nightmare fuel). emma is a light sleeper and lifelong insomniac herself for many reasons, and if she is asleep, she wakes up very quickly when she hears the familiar change in regina's breathing, or feels her lashing out with her hands or feet in her sleep. it aches deep in emma's chest every time, knowing there are things that have happened that will always haunt regina like this, knowing there are some things she can't fight off. and she's still learning what to do with those things, how to help her without a sword and fist, but she wakes her as gently as she can and kisses her forehead, strokes her hair and whispers silly things and dumb jokes to her until they're both okay. regina doesn't like to talk about her nightmares or what they contain, and emma doesn't ask. they just hold each other and learn to feel safe.

idk if this is a controversial one, or if my view of them has just changed a little as i've gotten older, but emma and regina are both people that are still struggling big time with their mental health, processing, healing etc and though they love each other and are definitely on a one way path to peace, there's no way this doesn't cause issues sometimes. when regina and emma fight (beyond the everyday quibbling that undoubtedly means i love you), they fight badly. they both say awful stuff they don't mean or believe. they both spiral. (but afterwards, when they've calmed down and the dust has settled, they always find each other with immense apology and understanding. and the good thing is, because they both struggle, they both understand wholeheartedly what the other one went through, why they said those things, and they know unequivocally that they didn't mean them. their fights are not common, but after them they are always extra caring and tender and honest with each other, just to be sure the other knows how much they are loved.)

this is more sad than actually angsty, but it means a lot to me so. i have forgotten if this is actually canon or not, but regina had a version of daniel's tombstone brought over to storybrooke with the curse and it is still very important to her to visit it regularly, bringing his favourite yellow flowers. emma respects her privacy and that it's a very personal thing, but one day when emma asks where she's going and she says there, regina tells her very gently that she's welcome to come if she'd like. and so emma, after making sure it's not overstepping any boundaries, joins. she is quiet and respectful, holds regina's hand and sits with her there. after a while regina turns to her and tells her how much he would have liked her. how similar they are, in some ways. how totally not in others. before they go, when regina has already left, emma pretends to have forgotten something so she can have a quick moment to touch the stone and tell him a quiet thank you, for loving regina and taking care of her before she could.

#doing this ask bc it's a quick ish one that requires not a lot of thought #i am working on responses to other prompts tho!! #i am just a very busy salad this year #swan queen #sq #swan queen hcs #swan queen headcanons #swan mills family #regina mills #emma swan #swan mills family headcanons #regina mills headcanons #emma swan headcanons #regina mills hcs #emma swan hcs #anon #salads headcanons #stable queen #kinda

[spawnofdeath]

Item: A Diary

Item found in the ruins of a smaller wooden building, likely a temporary shelter constructed after the event that caused most of the destruction.

Item is a small book bound in calf leather with copper detailing attached to both covers. Corner detailing appears to depict flowering vines of some kind in the upper corners, flames in the lower corners. Center of the front cover shows a stag head, with remains of black enamel on antlers and eyes.

Book appears to be a diary.

Heavily damaged by the elements, few pages remain legible.

First legible entry far towards the back, apparently written after the disaster, transcribed:

"Three days since the earth stopped shaking. We are still just picking up the pieces, both figuratively and literally. We are hoping to make time to bury Mother and Father tomorrow, as the Mausoleum luckily still stands.

Scott is taking it badly. I don't know what to do to help him. We two are now responsible for the kingdom of Rivendell, but I am unsure he is in a fit state to take this responsibility, and I cannot for certain take it on my own. It was never meant to be just one of us. We are twins, we were born to rule together. I need my brother's help. I cannot do it alone. But it seems he cannot do it at all.

We had a fight about it earlier today. We've never had such a bad fight before. I don't know what to do. I love him, I do not wish to lose him. He is all the family I now have left. Even just in general, twins shouldn't separate, it's bad luck. We rule together, or we don't rule. I cannot do it alone.

Later.

I may have to do it alone. I was going to end this entry after the last sentence, but at dinner, Scott and I fought again. He isn't taking well my attempts to comfort him. He thinks I am letting go of it too easily. He thinks I do not care. I don't know how to convince him that I am just trying to do what's best for us, what's best for everyone! I don't know what to tell him. He thinks we should not rule together. He might not be wrong. It might be time to break tradition.

I need to talk to him about it more tomorrow, when both our heads are hopefully more clear, but I am exhausted. I have not been sleeping well, but I will have to try."

Several pages after this are fused by mold and turned illegible.

The next, and apparently last entry, only partially legible, transcribed:

"[...] writing this, most of my belongings are already packed up, and I and the ones willing to follow me are ready to leave by tomorrow, as are Scott and his followers. We will not be going in the same direction. I [several words illegible] leave this diary behind, as a record of our fate and plans to those who may come to this place after we have left.

Rivendell is in ruins, and if Scott and I will not rule it together, there is no point in rebuilding here rather than anywhere else. It makes no difference.

I, Xornoth, first of my name, King of Summer, Champion of Exor, am leaving with the ones who trust me to seek fortune in far places and found my own kingdom separate from that of my brother, Scott, first of his name, King of Winter, Champion of Aeor. We likely will not meet again. I try not to grieve that fact. I do not believe there is room in my heart for more grief.

Best of Luck, little Brother. May Aeor guide you and your people well."

Thoughts and theories:

What to even say here? What a thing to have just read. Need to speak to Xornoth about this urgently. We had been talking about gaps in our memories, of course, but to have forgotten something this important? I have to tell him. I have to show them this.

Other than that, again mentions of Exor and Aeor. Names that seem to come up a lot. Gods? Summer and Winter. Fire and Ice. Stag motives again, as well.

#scott smajor #xornoth empires smp #aeor empires smp #exor empires smp #empires smp #empires s1 #two sons of rivendell au #two sons of rivendell au writing #tsorau

[krisingtons]

On Writing Emotions

I get asked a lot how I write scenes with so much emotional impact. It’s admittedly (and ironically) difficult to put into words sometimes, but I thought I’d give it a shot.

First, I think one thing needs to be stated from the beginning because I have seen some confusion around this. When writing for emotions, the goal is not to make your readers feel certain emotions. Your goal is to show your characters feeling certain emotions. Then, we as writers need to trust that readers will have their own emotional reaction from that. Trying to write with the reader’s experience in mind is akin to breaking the 4th wall in acting, which generally ruins the immersion of a story. Basically, to give a reader an emotional impact, you first need to act like the reader doesn’t even exist. 

With that said, how do we then, as writers, make characters have certain emotional experiences? I think I generally ask myself five questions:

What does the character want in this scene?

Is the character getting what they want in this scene?

Are they comfortable responding to getting or not getting what they want?

Do the characters know they are getting or not getting what they want?

How does their response relate to other characters in the scene?

I think most writers have a solid handle on the first two questions, even subconsciously. A lot of plot is driven in this way. Let’s consider all five questions on a very basic level through a fight scene. Fight scenes might not seem inherently emotional, but that’s usually because the emotions are so straightforward. That’s what makes them a good place to examine this process.

So in a fight scene, usually the character first wants to stop the other character from doing whatever they’re doing. Second, the character is probably not getting what they want, hence the fighting. Third, assuming it’s a character that’s used to fighting, they would be considered comfortable with responding to not getting what they want because they know how to fight. A character in a fight would generally have a good sense of whether or not they’re getting what they want because they’d know whether they’re winning or losing the fight. Finally, this response relates to the other characters because the other character probably wants something different, which is why they’re fighting in the first place.

Notice how in this example I didn’t actually state any emotion words, but I would guess that some came to mind anyway, notably “anger” or some variation on it. Again, that’s why fight scenes are straightforward to examine as emotional, because the emotion and response is straightforward.

Now let’s move on to a likely follow-up scene to a fight. Let’s make this whump and say that the character lost the fight and is now in the hospital with a caretaker character. We can now run through our five questions again from the perspective of the caretaker.

The caretaker in this scene probably wants the whumpee to recover. Depending on how the recovery is going, the caretaker may or may not be getting what they want. Let’s assume that the whumpee is doing worse (i.e. flatlining) and therefore the caretaker is not getting what they want. Let’s also say that the caretaker is also normally a fighter. That would mean that they are uncomfortable responding to not getting what they want. A fighter, after all, is used to literally combatting tangible obstacles to getting what they want, such as other people. In a hospital situation, though, the obstacle to what they want is intangible and therefore not fightable in the traditional sense. Additionally, the caretaker does not know whether or not they’re getting what they want due to the unstable nature of the whumpee’s condition. This directly ties questions 4 and 5 together. Even if the whumpee isn’t awake, the caretaker is going to have a different emotional experience in each moment depending on how close or far away the whumpee seems to be towards improving, which is what the caretaker wants. 

Again, no real emotion words were noted in this example, but several probably come to mind. The caretaker probably feels fear, despair, helplessness, anger, frustration, and more. If you think about each emotion separately, a whole list of emotions to cover could feel overwhelming as a writer. If, however, you write from the primary motivation that leads to all those emotions, then both the plot and the emotional impact will be stronger.

It’s important to note here that these questions can be mixed and matched to an extent depending on the genre, too. Mutual pining is a great example of this interplay. A character might actually be getting what they want (question 2), which is for the other character to love them, but they don’t know that (4). As a result, they’re going to act like the answer to question 2 is that they’re not getting what they want, even though they are. That will inform the other questions accordingly.

After these questions are answered, you then get into the “show, don’t tell” aspect of writing advice. With emotions, that basically amounts to, “What are the characters doing that would make those around them understand their emotions?” 

Again, with the first fight scene, it’s pretty obvious what they’re doing to show their motivation and anger: they’re fighting. In the second scene with the caretaker, it’s a little less obvious, or at least less obvious how to show and not tell it. For example, it would be really easy to say, “They cried,” because they’re not getting what they want. There are a lot of different ways to cry, though. Are they frowning or smiling? Are they holding back tears or are they letting them flow freely? Basically, what are they doing that is specific to them getting or not getting what they want? A caretaker that normally is a fighter, for example, probably addresses their fear and sadness in a very angry way. They are likely yelling at hospital staff, banging their fists against walls, and generally trying not to cry. That’s a very different reaction than the reaction of a caretaker who is used to caretaking. They likely are crying freely, holding the whumpee’s hand, tucking in their blanket, and doing other caretaking things. 

This leads to the biggest potential emotional impact for readers of all: characters who react contrary to their nature. It’s emotionally interesting and impactful when a character is put in a situation that’s contrary to their trope, such as caretaking when they’re normally a fighter. It’s even more impactful oftentimes when a character leans into this new role. We can see this in other popular tropes, too, like enemies to lovers. 

Another way the answers to these questions can be emotionally impactful is when they don’t line up in an expected way. A good example of this is when a character wants comfort (1), they are getting comfort (2), but they are not comfortable with getting comfort (3). This can lead to interesting interactions between them and the character providing comfort (5) since again, the motivations seem aligned, but a new, unseen barrier of sorts has been introduced that needs to be overcome. I do this in fluff a lot to create plot. It can also often be seen in sick fics where the sick character doesn’t want to “bother” the character providing them with care and comfort.

If you’re not sure you’re following what I mean with these five questions and how the answers to them lead to emotional responses from characters and, by extension, readers, try revisiting some fics you find emotionally impactful. Answer the questions scene by scene based on the POV character, and see if you can then determine the emotions from them. You may have also noticed at this point that writing emotionally impactful scenes requires having a solid understanding of the characters themselves and how they generally would or would not react to certain situations. 

Also, the Emotion Amplifier Thesaurus is a really helpful resource for what different emotions might look or feel like!

Thanks for reading! If you have thoughts on writing emotions and emotionally impactful scenes, I’d love to hear them.

#writing #writing advice #fanfiction #writing stuff #fanfic writing #fanfic

[kankuroplease]

Kakashi Tattoo Au headcanons?

Kakashi is Minato’s apprentice turned business partner/shop owner

He’s literally always booked and has been in quite a few tattoo magazines featuring his work and ink.

He’s actually very kind to clients with low pain tolerance and will chat with them to try and help them think of something else. If they need a break, take a break. You’re not winning an award for sitting well (maybe a better tattoo though)

Because he’s the boss, he makes his own hours and will never show up before 1 pm. Ever.

Has one of the pet food wi-fi cams so he can watch and talk his dogs. Naruto and Sakura also like talking to the dogs and will take his phone to do it

Yamato is the only employee allowed in his studio area as the others tend to want to camp out and talk his ear off

Uchiha affiliated, not by choice thanks Obito, but they are some of his most loyal clients and that’s how he met/acquired Sasuke as an apprentice.

Taught Sasuke his best techniques. Like, he knew the kid had talent but even he was impressed with how well he picked up tattooing.

Constantly warning Naruto about his bangers. Consistency is still important and not every client is going to want HIS idea on their bodies forever just do the design they chose, even if it’s Sasuke’s

Trusts Sakura and Yamato to order all the supplies the shop may need. It’s not that he can’t, they’re just very reliable

Has asked Shisui to not hang around Sakura at the front desk. Sasuke’s fans are bad enough, but at least Sasuke doesn’t entertain them like Shisui does. Doesn’t help that Sakura gos along with Shisui’s stunts. They totally have had a bet on who could get the most numbers

Looks after Naruto, Sasuke, Sakura, and Sai. Totally has received calls from them in the middle of the night to rescue one, if not all of them at some point. It’s the only reason he keeps his old van actually

Yes, he has access to luxury cars and SUVs but he still uses his first vehicle that his father and Minato helped him fix as a teen. Those days of laughing, arguing, and kid naruto pretending drive are is own little treasures (and he’s keeping them)

Shop dad. Unofficial mediator. Smut recommender. Guitar teacher. 2 coffees in and still tired. Black belt. Recipient of shop pranks. Photographer. Dog dad. Yakuza arm candy. Unenthusiastic backup karaoke singer. He holds many titles~

A little more invested in dramas than anyone would think he is. Knows about the upcoming ones before anyone else and wants to watch them in the home theater

Drives his dad places just to spend time with him.

Helps Obito train and has been doing so since they were kids. He actually can fight very well too, but he doesn’t want to and is more than happy to support Obito’s career.

Lowkey thinks it’s funny when Obito gets taken to the mat by an opponent after talking a big game. Obito should’ve trained harder and stopped trying to grab his ass

Enjoys when Rin washes his hair for him in the bath, but will never ask her to do it. He’s just grateful it’s somewhat a weekly if not daily occurrence.

Also enjoys when Obito lays his head on his lap to nap while he’s reading. He’s basically Kakashi’s one and only cat 🐈‍⬛

Plays coy with his lovers when they try to seduce him. They want him? Interesting~

Also makes sex tapes with them for his own viewing pleasure. They can watch them too if they want, and Obito definitely wants to. Rin is more shy about it/says she experienced it and doesn’t need to see herself like that. You go ahead guys 😳

Lives in sweatpants around the house

Once he becomes a dad, he’s bringing home temporary tattoos for them. It’s pretty much a tradition Minato started and the shop has them, so why not?

Makes the kids breakfast with scarecrow faces made of fruit and whipped cream

Goes to all their tournaments and games

Is the pillow for at least two people at all times

Has a wall of black and white photos he’s taken starting from middle school and going all the way up to the kids latest candid moments. He sometimes will stand in front of it and just take in all the memories

#ask #tattoo shop au #kakashi hatake #tw suggestive #kakaobirin #tsau: hatake kakashi #tsau: hatake sakumo #kpz tsau ℹ️