#i usually don’t post anything for the characters birthdays bc i just never have good pictures to post/the motivation to take them

[akinas-shave-ice]

Happy Birthday, Julie! 🎉☀️

Julie and Ivy are celebrating together in their summer looks! I got Julie’s swimsuit from a doll show recently and wanted to dress her up.

#i usually don’t post anything for the characters birthdays bc i just never have good pictures to post/the motivation to take them #but i coincidentally took this right before her birthday so it worked out #american girl #ag #american girl dolls #my doll photos #julie albright #ivy ling

[threejadesoflan]

GET TO KNOW THE MUN.

respond to the prompts out of character!

what made you pick up the current muse(s) you have? The answer, as ever, is brainrot. I fell down the danmei rabbit hole after getting the MDZS manhua and am to blame for dragging frexiasought down with me, but it's her who convinced me to make the blog and try writing some of my favourites. That said, I still want to write fanfiction with them too.

is there anything you don’t like to write? Character or ship bashing. I'll never enjoy reading it, and I refuse to write it. Obviously some characters are antagonists, but I'm so tired of Jiang Cheng bashing and Lan Xichen or Lan Qiren bashing. I didn't leave the FE community just to see the same things here.

is there anything you really enjoy writing? Maybe it's because I'm an old woman, but recently I've come to LOVE family content. Mu Qing's style of running his Palace is based on sect culture but also on that. And in general I just LOVE good sibling dynamics.

how do you come up with headcanons? Primarily brainwaves. Typically I bounce these brainwaves off of my notes app or Eva before I finalise them, but there's no telling what prompts some of those. They might come while I'm reading/watching, but also out of the blue while I'm working or showering. I do, however, also have a history of reading fanfics, spotting headcanons or portrayals I enjoy, and stealing them for myself (often with a bit of readjusting to better fit my own purposes). I'm not proud of stealing, and I try to credit the og fics if it applies, but I'm not above admitting it. 

do you write in silence or do you play music? I tend to have speedruns open at all times when I'm home, so I listen to that. Otherwise I typically have music going, though I usually can't sit still when listening to music. I detest silence, though.

do you plan your replies or wing them? I typically wing them. Usually I'll have an idea of how to respond when I first see the post/ask I'm responding to, but as to how I execute that thought and add to it, that's winged. Wung?

do you enjoy shipping? Recently I've come to enjoy more platonic relationships more, but I will always be a shipping whore. I think that my aromantic ass lives vicariously through fictional characters.

what’s your alias/name? BP!

age? I just turned 31 this year and I feel like a relic of an ancient civilisation.

birthday? Mid February.

favorite color? Red and black, judging from my warhammer armies.

favorite song? I go back and forth. Wuji (XiaoZhan and WangYibo version) is very high up there atm though.

last movie you watched? Kingsman. My brother insisted I had to, as a self-respecting Bachelor of English Literature, and he was right.

last show you watched?  I'm actually in the middle of watching the Untamed with Eva! It's a lot better than I expected, the actors very clearly understood the characters they're portraying.

last song you listened to? According to my youtube history, something from the Golden Sun Dark Dawn OST.

favorite food? I would commit a crime for the asian-inspired soups from a local noodle joint.

favorite season? Cranky old woman doesn't like any season. I go from hay fever season into cold season. I'd say autumn, but the cycling roads get super dangerous and the low-hanging sun blinds me. So probably summer, outside of heatwave time, bc both school and work tend to settle down around that time.

do you have a tumblr best friend? Pep and Eva for sure!

#ooc

[isagisyoichi]

YOU MAKE ME FEEL SPECIAL!

SYNOPSIS: niko as your boyfriend

CHARACTERS INCLUDED: niko ikki aka my boyfriend hello

WARNINGS: swearing, pretend all the boys go to the same school and they're all friends for plot, normalize not writing serious boys as someone that practically hates their s/o and never opens up to them god bless, also no such thing as ooc since we dunno shit ab him so everything i say is law. SUPER LONG LOL, it's like 2k+ words 😭

A/N: i love my boyfriend and i'm v happy about all the attention he's getting (even if he will prob will b subbed out 👎) this was fun to write bc i think he would b very soft as bf and also i hate the notion that stoic and serious = boring and detached in a relationship. also first post w the new user yayyyy rip yoichisagis an end of an era for realsies.

FOR: fox anon my beloved this one is for u😩

it takes a while for you two to get together, just because niko wants to think things through and be sure he’s making the right decision, as well as him being naturally apprehensive about this whole dating thing.

when you do eventually start going out, keep in mind you're probably his first real anything, so-

niko needs to take it slow for the first month or so because he needs time to adjust and get used to being in a relationship.

when he gets comfortable around you, niko starts to talk a lot more.

niko starts to talk about his interests more-soccer, stem stuff (idc i'll die by my hc that he's a stem boy), etc. and niko's really happy that you're genuinely interested in what he has to say :)

and as your relationship progresses, niko becomes more inclined to share his inner thoughts.

“this song is so bad, i hate it and how it's everywhere,” like, babe that sucks, but what do you want me to do, take it off the radio myself? 😭

you find out that niko’s kind of a hater LOL, but it’s okay, because it means he can be himself around you <3 and the mini debates you have with each other are fun.

he’s someone you can take shopping with you if you need a solid second opinion.

“ikki, is this cute?” you niko as you adjust the shirt you tried on in the fitting room mirror.

“no.” he’s so straight up LOL. “the blue one from earlier was better.”

“this one?”

“yeah, that one. you look really pretty in it.”

ngl though, niko’s not much of a mall person. he'd just follow you around like a little puppy LOL, but he doesn't mind too much because it's for you.

communication is important to niko!!!!! he wants someone that he can have real conversation about the things that matter to him, so he rly makes an effort to have that kind of connection with you.

niko's naturally funny but he isn't aware that he is lol.

but when he does try, i feel like his humor comes in the form of sarcasm and dry wit. likes poking fun at you here and there with a lighthearted jab.

"you're so weird, y/n," is the most common one.

niko’s naturally closed off emotionally (male aquarius 😒) but i, personally, think he’d really try and push himself to be more open with you, especially if you expressed for him to do so </3

he'd be really appreciative of someone patient and understanding of the fact that he doesn't open up easily, though.

but eventually, you become the person closest to him- niko confides in you a lot, which he’s grateful for because he usually holds everything in.

not one for pda or other lovey-dovey things in public, other than the occasional holding of hands but behind closed doors, niko’s so soft around you, it’s like he’s a completely different person.

also, i feel like niko’s real handsy with you, i get the vibe he’s super touch starved 😭

although it does take him a while to get used to physical affection, once he has, niko cannot get enough. he’s always touching you when he has no real reason to.

(and because you're his first relationship, i feel like it’s just natural that niko’s going to be kind of clingy towards you.)

“you okay, ikki?” you ask as niko suddenly wraps his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“mhm,” he mumbles. “just wanna be close to you.”

niko likes when you sit on his lap when he’s on his computer. you can have your arms wrapped around his neck, your head resting in the crook of his neck, or you could just be on your phone or whatever, it doesn’t matter, niko just likes you near him.

you guys don’t really talk to each other when you do this, aside from niko occasionally checking up on you and asking if you need anything from him.

but other than that, you guys just enjoy each other's touch in silence. it’s one of his favorite things to do with you.

however, if you start kissing him in the middle of whatever he’s doing and keep it up for long enough, niko will drop everything to make out with you right then and there (also one of his favorite things to do with you).

speaking of kissing- you kiss niko first.

niko would try to plan your guys first kiss out because he wants everything to be perfect.

but, he ends up taking forever to execute it because he keeps overthinking and you can only wait so long before kissing him, so you take matters into your own hands.

his kisses are sloppy and juvenile at the beginning, but he’s smart and learns quickly what you do and don’t like.

likes being kissed on his jaw and forehead the most :')

if the team ever happens to see niko kissing you, they're gonna be so annoying 😭

"yooo niko's making big moves ‼️" "my son's growing up on me!😩" "good job *pats on the back*" and niko is red all over as he drags you away from them, muttering about how childish and annoying they are 😭.

but, they're all very supportive of you guys, even if they're embarrassing as hell 🙄.

they even give niko relationship advice- which luckily, he doesn’t follow (most of the time), because, let’s be honest, if you're getting unsolicited dating tips from a bunch of teenage boys, it’s probably bad 😭.

you’re the only person niko shows his forehead to. just know that having the opportunity to see it means that niko trusts you more than anyone else :’)

repay his trust by kissing his forehead lovingly and showering him with compliments whenever you can !!!!!!!!!!

“y/n, why’re you so embarrassing,” niko says under his breath, blushing as you hold his face and litter soft kisses on his forehead, rambling about how cute he is.

always looks for you in the bleachers when he has a game and you’re always the first person he talks to after.

and the fact that you make an effort to come as often as you can means sooo much to him. definitely considers you to be his biggest fan.

real classy with nicknames- uses “my love/love,” and “darling,” the most.

his favorite petname from you is "pretty boy." gives him butterflies each time he hears it.

the first time you call him that, he's confused, but after you explain that being called pretty is basically the highest compliment a boy can receive, he gets all soft on you.

only uses instagram to like and comment on your pictures and that's it 😭.

comments stuff like “you're so pretty” and "beautiful," without any emojis because niko refuses to use them LOL.

remembers the compliments you give him! they help with his self esteem and i feel like he values your opinion a lot.

so, tell him all about how cute and smart and talented and hot and funny he is and how much you love him and he'll replay it in his head 24/7.

i think he prefers to be the big spoon, unless he's sad- then he really wants you to hold him.

niko gives me homebody vibes, so expect relaxed dates, but still nice, yk?

what i mean is niko's not gonna take you out to get gas station food and call it a day 😭 he's classier than that and he always puts in effort towards dates.

he always plans them ahead of time and takes into consideration what he thinks you'd enjoy. and he insists on paying 🤗.

but, niko always does something special for days like your birthday or an anniversary, like go somewhere fancy if you wanted to or buy a nice gift you've been eyeing for a while.

helps you with your schoolwork, 100%. most of the time niko tutors you because he wants you to actually learn the material, but if you're feeling lazy and just wanna get it over with, niko will just give you the answers.

this is a big deal because i love him and all but, niko gives me the vibe he's super stingy with his work 😭.

"this is the last time i'm going to just give you the answers, y/n." niko sighs out. "you have to start doing your homework by yourself."

niko's said that dozen of times but he's still giving you the answers free of charge. can you guys say #whipped 🤣?

LOL speaking of school, if you ever text him during class, i highly doubt that niko would entertain you 😭😭 (it's out of love, though)

y/n 💗: hiii baby imy 🥰

pretty boy: do your work, y/n.

y/n 💗: ALL I DID WAS SAY HI

pretty boy: pay attention.

y/n 💗: fine ur so lame 👎

pretty boy: whatever you say. i miss you too, by the way.

he likes to moves your hair out your face because he wants to see your pretty face better.

which is why you have to do the same with him 🥰!!!!!! makes him blush like crazy.

gets soooo soft when you post him or even take pictures of you and him together :') just the thought of you wanting to show him off makes him soooo happy.

he won't entertain you if you make a tiktok, though LOL. he's very stubborn in his belief that it's stupid.

just stands in the background with his arms crossed if you try to make him do a dance or something 😭 (he does think you look cute, though).

niko has such nice eyelashes but i doubt he's aware of it 'cause he's, y'know, a boy 🙄.

"my eyelashes are ... cute?" he questions. niko wasn't even aware that such a trivial thing like his eyelashes could be considered cute.

"yes, oh my god," you gush. "they're so long and nice, i wish mine were like that," you groan, examining yours through the camera of your phone.

"you're so weird, y/n," he says, a blush staining his cheeks. "your eyelashes are nicer," he mumbles as he kisses your forehead.

he's one of those people that prefers to be alone, but you're the exception. you know?

niko likes to keep to himself most of the time, but that whole thing doesn't apply to you, because he'd choose to be with you over being alone anytime :')

#THIS WAS SO LONG CHRKST #ilysmni i love you so much niko ikki #not a dating hc but i really thinkche has the kind of headphones that tsukki has 💀💀💀 #niko ikki #niko ikki x reader #niko x reader #blue lock #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock x reader #blue lock imagine #blue lock headcanons #bllk headcanons #niko ikki headcanons #niko ikki imagine #ikki niko #ikki niko x reader #bllk imagines

[heshoes]

Twin Telepathy

❝And I never thought it would be true that one day I'd have to live without you.❞ In which a connection started at birth remains strong until the bitter end.

Warnings (BC THIS ONE IS TRIGGERING): ⚠️ angst, main character death.

Idk the word count but this one is short

Main Characters: Harry Styles, Edward Styles

There is no smut in this one my loves. I wrote this like 5 years ago and I’m posting it here now. I hope you enjoy and reblog let’s talk about it after you read.xx

5

Age five is when Harry and Edward noticed that they were identical. Age five was the time of development for secret languages, tricks, and pranks pulled on parents, grandparents, and even the teachers at primary school because they could get away with it.

They would even switch classes sometimes.

Harry was always good at maths. He progressed at counting blocks and telling time where Edward was a bit more fuzzy in the subject. However,  Edward could always read and excelled in primary school literature despite the fact that he would throw a tantrum anytime his mum would pull him away from the television in order to for him to read her a bedtime story.

“What time is it Harry?” Their mum would ask knowing full well what the time was herself,  as she took her seat behind the two curly headed boys on the floor who sat helplessly too close to the television. One because he really couldn’t see all that well, the other because he wanted to be close to his brother.

“I’m not Harry! I’m Ed.” Harry laughed cheekily as he told a lie while his brother squinted to look at the cartoon characters on the telly screen.

“Well, Ed,” His mother spoke playing along with his game, “What time is it?”

“Eight o’clock! Time for bed?”

“Thats right!” Their mother laughed, “When did you get so much better at telling time Edward?”

“Uh-oh”

“That’s right, Harry. Uh-oh.” The boy laughed in his mothers arms as she began to tickle and he began to squirm. Edward found it amusing, and because his brother laughed so did he, feeling the same exact joy that his brother did from the top of his head down to his tiny toes. Rushing for his mother in order to save his brother from the tickle monster, Edward pulled Harry from her arms, and for once he didn’t put up a fight when his mother asked him to read to her after he and Harry were dressed in their pajamas.

•••••

10

Ten was the age of growing into your face and the ever present awkward phase that everyone has to go through. By age ten, Harry had to wear braces and Edward wore a pair of glasses thicker than should be allowed. Their pranks didn’t work as well as they used to when they were younger due to the physical tell all’s that adorned their faces, but it didn’t make the boys any less close together. If anything it made them stick together more. Age ten was also the age in which they were constantly bullied.

As the boys walked down the hallways books would be ripped from their hands or feet would be purposely stuck out in order for one to trip. When Edward fell and broke his glasses, Harry had decided that he had, had enough. Edward was angry, furious even, but because he could barely see he couldn’t do much about it. Harry, however, could and the anger that Edward felt radiated off of his twin in hot streams.

“Apologize!” Harry shouted at the much bigger boy, standing his ground though he was much shorter.

“For what?” The boy challenged in a much more condescending tone. He knew what he had done and he was proud of himself for it.

“Apologize to my brother or I’ll– I’ll...”

“You’ll what brace face?!”

“I’ll kick your ass!”

The crowd in the hallway ‘oohed’ and ‘ahhed’ at the use of Harry’s language as he stood in between Edward and the boy who was much taller. Edward had since put his broken glasses in his pocket as he squinted, tugging at Harry’s arm to get him to walk away from the situation, but Harry wouldn’t budge.

Harry wasn’t prepared for what was to come. As the boy lifted his fist to connect it with Harry’s jaw he was cut short. Before any contact could be made, the boy who was much taller was seated forcefully on the ground holding his bloody nose in his hand, looking up at Edward.  Edward looked down on the bully while flexing his hand open and closed hoping that if he shook it hard enough the pain of breaking someone’s nose would go away.

Harry looked at his twin with shock in his eyes and a smile on his face as Ed continued to shake his hand while all three of the boys were escorted to the principal’s office.

“I thought you couldn’t see?” Harry whispered to his twin  in hopes of a quick explanation.

“I can’t see things that are far away, but that fucker, he was pretty close.”

Harry and Edward both began to laugh as they sat patiently in the principals office for their parents to collect them for their suspension from school.

•••••

15

Fifteen was the age of rebellion, girls, and more argument’s between the boys than usual. They had since grown into their faces and their own personalities and though they were still close, they didn’t see eye to eye on a lot of things. Harry had gotten into sports and school, while Edward had gotten into bands and trouble. The one thing that they did both agree on at the moment however was going to Tash Fraser's birthday party. Although she was two years their senior she had still sent the boys a personal invite. She was turning 17 and this of course would help boost their popularity for the year.

They were already high on the food chain at school for boys of only fifteen years old, and since they had grown into their faces and out of their braces and glasses, they had become rather attractive aside from the baby fat that they still had here and there.

“You ask.” Harry spoke, shoving Edward towards their parents room and grabbing the newspaper out of his hands, disturbing him from his place at the table as he read while flicking his brand new tongue ring against his teeth. Harry didn't care if Ed was angered by his rude interuption. He was older after all even if it was only by two minutes. Edward should do as he said.

“Why would I ask?! I just got off of punishment. I’ll be lucky if I can go anywhere. If I ask, dad will take one look at me and say no. No doubt I'll go anyway, but I'd rather do it without having to sneak. Leave me alone and give me my shit back! If you wanna go so bad you ask asshole!” Edward pushed his twin back, both of them equally aggravated by the other.

“We won’t be able to go anywhere if mum and dad hear you cussing! Fat chance on sneaking out with your big mouth!” Harry spoke aggressively above a whisper to his brother, making himself be heard.

Edward pulled his tongue ring between his teeth, playing with it and making Harry cringe before he nodded his head up and down in agreement.

“So what are we going to do?” Harry asked as if he were fresh out of ideas though he really didn’t bother to think of any.

“We’ll make them breakfast.” Edward spoke quickly, thinking on his toes much to Harry’s approval. And so they did, buttering their parents up with toast, pancakes, tomatoes, sausage, and bacon in order to get a simple, “alright” from their mother and father.

“You have to be home no later than one thirty!” Their mom reminded them as they headed out the door, riding with a mutual friend in order to make their way to the party.

“We’ll be home by twelve.” Harry yelled back jokingly earning a slap to the back of the head from his brother.

As the night went on, the music grew louder and the illegal activity had gotten more out of hand. Drinks of the alcoholic kind had been passed around, and though both Harry and Edward had one or two, neither of them dared to get drunk, knowing full well that their mother would be up waiting for them to get back.

“It’s one fifteen.” Harry spoke looking at his silver wrist watch that Edward had gotten him as a gift on their thirteenth birthday. “We should get ready to leave soon.”

Edward nodded his head in agreement as he looked around the crowded room for their friend. Hoping that he was sober enough to take them home. When he spotted him and told him that he was ready to go, their friend agreed to drive them even though Harry had notice the stumble in his step.

“Nuh uh, Edward. He’s drunk out of his mind.” Harry spoke to his twin, but was ignored as soon as the words left his lips.

“I can’t get in trouble again Harry. He’s fine we just live right up the street. It won’t take us long to get home. It’s fine.” Edward began to walk towards the car, but as soon as he took a step Harry pulled him back.

“Ed no! Why don’t you ever listen?!”

“Harry! If you want to stay here and get in trouble with dad because you’re not home in time then fine! Stay! I’ve just been freed and I’m not gonna be grounded again over something as stupid as this! I’ll see you when you get home.”

Harry let his brother go tired of arguing back and forth. There was no arguing with Ed and no point in trying to get him to think clearly when he had gotten an idea of his own.

Twenty more minutes passed before Harry had found a sober soul in the party who was willing to take him home. He hadn’t been drinking again, but he had the worst headache that he’d ever had in his life and it felt like it would split him clean in two if he didn’t get home and lie down. As they got in the car they traveled down the road only to see that it was blocked, a sudden panic started to set in. Harry’s head pounded worse and his mouth went dry and before the police got the chance to turn them in the opposite direction, Harry saw the car that Edward was in wrapped around a tree as if it were a flimsy piece of  aluminum foil.

•••••

20

Today Harry was twenty and though this was considered to be an age of a milestone in life, he didn’t celebrate it in the traditional way. Harry hadn’t celebrated any birthday since fifteen because he saw no point in it. Instead of throwing a party or hanging out with friends, every year since after his fifteenth birthday, Harry would go to the cemetery in Cheshire so that he could be close to his brother.

Today was a day of remembrance.

As Harry sat against the cold granite headstone that represented Edward, he thought of the time that they spent together while he was living. Harry was thankful that he was in a fairly secluded area because he would talk to Ed and tell him about the things that went on in his day and as he thought about his brother, he would laugh out loud when he would remember a prank that they pulled when they were younger, like when Harry dressed up as Edward for an hour at school just so that he could take his maths test for him. Their mum was so proud of Edward for passing with flying colors.

Or when Edward would run into Harry’s room and pretend to be him when they were supposed to be sleeping. Harry had a girlfriend at the time and would sneak out of his room at night to go see her, where they would make out under a tree. Harry realised that he had never thanked Ed for that so he did it now. A simple “thank you” left his lips before he fell silent and his eyes began to water. Because this was a day of remembrance, Harry would also remember the day that he lost his best friend.

Harry remembered the waiting.

Waiting in the oddly cold  room at the hospital with his mum and dad as doctors rushed about doing everything they could in order to save his brother.

Harry remembered the tears.

Tears that rolled down the faces of his family and himself as he rocked back and forth in his chair with with his hands clasped together tightly, saying a silent prayer that Ed would somehow walk out of the emergency room with maybe only a couple of stitches here and there.

Harry remembered the screams.

The deafening screams that came from his mother, his father, and himself when the doctor came out of the operating room and said that Edwards heart had given up and that his poor body was too weak to put up a fight.

Most of all, Harry remembered how he already knew that Edward was gone before the doctor came to announce it. His head had stopped hurting and his stomach was in knots, but he could no longer feel that strange connection that he and Edward shared since before he could remember and since age five, the age that he and Edward realized that they were identical.

Harry sat against Edward’s tombstone and allowed his tears to fall uninhibitedly, ridding himself of the pain that he felt everytime he thought about that fateful day. And though it hurt that he no longer had Edward around physically, he wasn’t sad anymore because he knew that he was there in spirit. The feeling that Harry felt was more overwhelming  because everytime he thought about it, he could barely believe it.

He never thought it would be true that he would have to live a day without his best friend, his brother, his twin.

#harry styles #harry styles fic rec #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #Edward styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles angst

[samanthadalton]

Personality traits for Chloe st James (ABCs)

this is a (late) birthday present for @alleycat97 bc i know how much she loves Chloe. It was definitely fun writing for her character and coming up with traits for her 

taglist: @alleycat97 @cloud9in @fundamentalromantic (sometimes my tags don’t work on my laptop, im not sure why) 

NSFW on some parts but I marked the parts 

A- Attentive 

Being around someone like Poppy means that Chloe is extremely attentive to the small details. She’s always picking up on the little signals and constantly makes sure you’re okay. She’ll literally show up to your dorm at 3am if your texts seem “off” to her and she’s worried you’re sad. 

NSFW- Chloe is very attentive to your pleasure during sex and loves kissing/biting your neck or chest to heighten your pleasure. 

B- Bottom

NSFW- Chloe is definitely a bottom but she’s not a pillow princess. She once got super offended that you called her one and wanted to show you she’s not the type to lie down and take it. Even though she lets you take the reins, she’s super bratty and loves verbally teasing you to turn you on more. 

C- Candidness 

You can always count on Chloe to tell the truth because she has no filter and will say whatever is on her mind. You find it both endearing but annoying sometimes because her lack of filter means she does say a lot of things that may seem rude but you know she means well. 

D- Daredevil 

NFSW- Chloe is definitely too kinky for her own good and is always down to try something new during sex, even though she always lets you take the lead. She’ll gingerly ask you if you want to do whatever new thing she’s found online and show you a bunch of videos on how to do it. 

E- Experience

NSFW- This surprised you but Chloe doesn’t have a lot of experience in the bedroom. When it comes to sex, she feels more comfortable around people she can trust, but her past partners never gave her any security so she never really knew how much of it worked until you. But now she’s breaking out of her shell more and becoming more forward with her likes and dislikes. 

F- Favourite position

NSFW- Chloe’s favourite position is seeing you between her legs, as you pleasure her. She loves eye contact and practically falls apart when your eyes meet as you eat her out. She also loves laying down on the couch with you on top of her, kissing and cuddling her because she feels the safest in your arms. 

G- Goofiness

The more you get to know Chloe, the more goofy you realise she is. She loves acting silly and stupid on purpose just to make you laugh and isn’t afraid to scream to the top of her lungs in public which evokes weird stares from random passerbys but always seems to make you laugh. 

H- Horniness

NSFW- Chloe is the epitome of horniness and loves teasing you which ends up with you dragging her to your bedroom or just doing it right on the sofa. She loves wearing outfits which are purposely revealing, and will try and seduce you by ‘accidentally’ dropping a pen and then bending over to pick it up, showing off her ass in the process. 

I- Impulsive

Chloe tends to be pretty impulsive, acting on her own whim because she either forgets she has anything planned and does something else or she’s sick of living in a controlled environment and just likes to be spontaneous. Her impulsive decisions once led you to a three day weekend in Vegas because she just wanted to play poker (even though she doesn’t know how to play). 

J- Jealousy

Chloe gets jealous really easily, which is something she isn’t proud of but you know it’s only because she loves you so much. Whenever girls get too friendly with you, she’ll loop your arm with hers, pulling you close to your side, before giving a massive show of PDA. Usually nights where Chloe gets jealous ends in quickies in the bathroom, or just leaving the event early just so you can hook up and you can remember that you are hers, 

K- Kinks

NSFW- One of Chloe’s biggest kinks is feet. There’s something unexplainable about it but her biggest turn on is feet. She loves kissing your feet or sucking on your toes because it gets her in the mood. The first time she tried it with you, she was nervous because she wasn’t sure how you would react, but she was glad when you were receptive and enjoyed it. 

L- Lazy 

Chloe loves her lazy days where she can do nothing whatsoever. Because she’s so used to everything being done for her, she usually acts like a queen and will expect you to treat her one, which includes cooking and cleaning.

M- Masturbation

NSFW- Chloe wasn’t too comfortable with the idea of masturbation at first as a result of her inexperience but after investing in a vibrator, she definitely feels better about masturbating as a whole, though she prefers sex. 

N- Narcissism

Chloe is hugely confident about herself, which can be seen as borderline narcissistic but that’s only because she knows she looks good. Back in high school, she was the prom queen and was voted most likely to stay hot (which she was extremely happy about). Chloe does care about looks a lot but that’s only because she was insecure as a child and had to overcome a lot of those insecurities. She’s working on becoming less vain which is working because she complimented Taylor the other day and said she looked good. 

O- Opinionated 

Chloe has a lot of opinions about everything and will let them be known, even if she doesn’t have all the facts. She has a guilty pleasure of reality tv shows and will always explain to you what is going on and who is the worst and who she loves. 

P- Picky

Chloe is a very picky eater and is the type to order chicken tenders and fries or salad from a restaurant when the menu isn’t appealing to her. You’ve been working on expanding her appetite. She definitely has expensive tastes and likes the most bizarre food which makes you wonder why she’s such a picky eater. For example she loves caviar but refuses to eat scallops. 

Q- Quickies

NSFW- Though she prefers sex being sensual and passionate, she does love a good quickie and will be down for one. During parties she’ll drag you to an empty bedroom rather than a bathroom because she’s unsure of what she’ll catch. 

R- Reliable

Chloe is extremely reliant and you can depend on her whenever you need something. Because she’s number 2 at Belvoire she knows how to get things done (even if she has to use other people for it). She’s really good at delegating and is someone you can trust with your secrets. 

S- Scared

Chloe gets scared really easily and hates watching horror movies unless you’re there to cuddle with her. Once when you took her to one of those haunted houses, she fainted because a monster crept up on her and she screamed so much, she ended up knocking herself out. 

T- Toys

NSFW- Chloe doesn’t have any toys but she does have a pair of handcuffs and loves using vibrators during sex. Usually during sex, you’ll put her underwear in her mouth to quieten her or use of her expensive scarfs to tie her hands up. 

U- Useless

Chloe has a lot of insecurities and one includes her not feeling worthy or useful. You often have to reassure her that she is an amazing human being and show her how incredible she is. She’s always so appreciative of your efforts to make her feel better and with you around, she feels like she’s done something right. You’ve been encouraging her to pursue a career in dance, because she absolutely lights up when she’s choreographing a new dance routine for the Zeta’s and you know she’ll do an amazing job. 

V- Volume 

NSFW- Chloe is very loud during sex and will let every sound out. Zoey has complained once or twice (or a lot of times) about the noise but Chloe can’t help it and the moans she makes are like music to your ears. 

W- Wild

Chloe does have a crazy side and after a few drinks, all of her morals, self preservation, self control are almost gone and she’ll let loose. She once flashed a bouncer to let her into the VIP section of the club (which worked) and if you dare her to do almost anything while drunk, she’ll do it without a second thought. 

X- X-ray 

NSFW- Chloe doesn’t have the biggest boobs but they definitely are very perky. She’s slim because dancing helps her to keep fit and can do a split (which drives you a little crazy) and both front and back flips. She’s about 5’9 and she definitely prefers having medium sized hair compared to long. 

Y- Yearning

Wherever you go back home for the holidays, Chloe is always missing you because she’s accustomed to having you by her side. She’ll constantly text/facetime with you to make sure you’re okay but also because she’s missing you like crazy. 

Z- Zodiac

Chloe is super into astrology and you guys play a little game where you’ll watch random strangers and try and guess their signs. She’s always sending you daily horoscopes in regards to your sign and always sends you compatibility posts about your signs. 

#playchoices #queenB #chloe st james #chloe x mc #this was a lot of fun #hope yall enjoy

[clearsky]

My Top Comfort Characters/Kins and My Main HCs For Them

(Note, not all my kins/comfort characters are on here, just the ones I have more than 5 hcs for)

CW: Korekiyo Shinguji (DRV3), Himiko Yumeno (DRV3), Shinsou Hitoshi (BNHA), Kyoko Kirigiri (THH), Tsuyu Asui (BNHA), Entrapta (Spop), Ibuki Mioda (SDR2), Celestia Ludenberg (THH), Funtime Foxy (FNAF), Peril (WOF)

Korekiyo Shinguji (DRV3)

Nonbinary

He/They pronouns

Autistic

Chains and loose accessories are for stimming

Likes the feeling of silk and cotton

Can't stand the feeling of anything rough or bumpy

He likes collecting small trinkets and the bones of small mammals

Can't stand anything salty. He'll eat it but he certainly won't enjoy it

Dating Rantaro

Can flirt, but only if he doesn't try

Petnames are a hell yea

Gets sunburnt really easily

Group dates with Celesnaegiri and Ikuzono

Can't cook for s h i t

Had a scene kid phase in middle school

Went to the same middle school as Celeste and Maki

Knew them when Celeste went through her "I'm not like other girls" phase and Maki was a Band Kid™

Himiko Yumeno (DRV3)

Female

She/Her pronouns

Lesbian

Can force herself to fall asleep within seconds regardless of where she is

100% forces herself to fall asleep when she doesn't wanna listen/talk to someone

Himiko/Angie/Tenko relationship. I'm calling them the Traffic Light Trio

She likes taking naps in the forest

She prefers enclosed/tight spaces more than open ones

Has several hundred stress balls and squishies laying around

She overheats easy

Shinsou Hitoshi (BNHA)

Questioning his gender, but goes by any pronouns

Knows he's Asexual, at least

Has no clue what his romantic orientation is though

The kind of person to carry treats in his pocket just in case he runs into a cat

Will stop to pet literally every cat he comes across

Great at reading people

Doesn't talk unless it's 100% needed

Hangs with Tokoyami, Jirou, and Denki most often

Aizawa has 100% unofficially adopted him

Fosters kittens

Not a big fan of physical touch

He is 100% in the bakusquad. Anyone who says he's in the Dekusquad is a c o w a r d

He and Tsuyu vibe

Knows a bunch of random facts

Dark humour? Dark humour

*skates backwards into his therapist's room slowly sipping from an absurdly huge cup of coffee* Candice you're not gonna BELIEVE the shit I just went through

In case I forgot to mention it, he skates

Kyoko Kirigiri (THH)

Mtf

She/Her

Bi with female preference

Burns go up to her shoulders/collarbone/chest

Prefers to just listen as opposed to saying anything

Knows a ton of random trivia about everyone else in her class

She keeps a notebook she fills with all the trivia

Doesn't celebrate her birthday. She just doesn't see the point of it

Doesn't hate sugar/sweets, but if given the choice she would choose literally everything else

Cuts her own hair

A cat person

Permanent dark circles

T-Tall 😳

Like,,, 6'1 at LEAST

Only person taller than her is Yasuhiro (6'3)

Canon no longer exist

Ahahaha healthy life habits? What are those?

Can't handle horror games

She's the kind of person you'd go to if you needed to rant but didn't want any advice

Polyamourous yo

Celeste/Kyoko/Makoto

She's a dom yall are just scared to admit it

Tsuyu Asui (BNHA)

They go by They/Them

Lesbian

They and Ochaco are dating

They like to hang with Shinsou

Which mainly just means the two sitting in one of their dorms in near total silence doing whatever

Can speak English and French as well as Japanese

Learned English from cartoons

Picked up French bc they thought it'd be fun

Prefers to stay neutral in the whole Bakusquad / Dekusquad thing

They're invited to all outings/events by/for both squads

They like puns

They're a dumbass but willingly, and for fun

Like "someone says they like dark humour and they'll turn off the lights before telling a joke" kind dumbass for fun

Great at poker

Likes Disney Movies

Very touchy once you get close enough

Not in a sexual way, just likes physical contact

Especially fond of piggyback rides and cuddles

Extreme fear of needles

Entrapta (She-Ra)

She/Her or It/Its

Doesn't bother trying to figure out whether she's cis, trans, nonbinary, or what

Was AMAB though

Short as fuck (4'7)

Strong as fuck though

Cuddle game strong

Physical touch is a fuck yes

Cuddles

Piggyback rides

Hugs

Anything where she's touching someone is wonderful in her book

As long as she's the one that initiates it

Anyone else touching her without her permission makes her freak

Prefers being high up

Makes it harder for anyone to sneak up on her

An ace at video games

When it comes to sexuality she just says she's Questioning

Ibuki Mioda (SDR2)

Any pronouns + Pup/Pupself + It/Its

No idea what their gender is otherwise

Biromantic Asexual

Just likes sexual jokes

Gets distracted easily

Has severe hearing problems

She's plays her instruments as loud as possible, with the amp right next to her, without ANY ear protection

It's caused some damage

She talks so loud bc she has no idea how loud is considered acceptable

Wears hearings aids most of the time

Several piercings and tattoos

Likes hearing things jingle

She has a bracelet with a few bells hanging from it

She'll shake it whenever she's bored

LOVES hair accessories

Ribbons are a particular favourite

Occasionally she'll hang little charms from her hair "horns"

The kind of person who never takes any pills/medicine bc she keeps forgetting she has to

Frequently uses emojis

Skates everywhere but she isn't very good at it

She keeps crashing into everything

Has broken every bone in her body at least 3 times

Most of which was bc she keeps trying to kick in doors and skating down the stairs

Celestia Ludenberg (THH)

Nonbinary

Any pronouns, mainly goes by She/They

Bi, 70:30

Collects mini hand sanitizers and can tabs

Has single handedly gotten Mario Kart, Mario Party, Monopoly, Uno, and Clue banned a grand total of 17 times (and counting)

The kind of person to purposefully target someone regardless of what game was being played

Favourite victim is Byakuya (bc he gets so upset about it and she finds that hilarious)

Mains Waluigi

Celeste/Kyoko/Makoto

Has several banned Twitter accounts bc whenever she's bored she'll start discourse on purpose

Hangs with Korekiyo, Ibuki, Byakuya, Yasuhiro, and Leon most often

It's a weird friend group but everyone's sorta gotten used to it

She and Byakuya gamble together occasionally

She tries to avoid it bc he'll willingly blow his entire fortune in an attempt to beat her

Autustic

Can't stand the feeling of water

Mainly bc she can't swim for shit

Horror movies? Hates them

Gets flustered super easily

Taka is her twin brother

Kotoko, Kokichi, and Gundham are their half siblings (Same father)

Peko and Toko are their cousins

She sucks ass at go fish

Fuck canon she's 4'11 now

C h u b b y

Freckles

Once she gets comfortable enough with herself she dyes her hair in the peekaboo style

Either black and red or black and blonde

Haven't decided yet

I'll be doing Celesnaegiri hcs as a seperate post but I just feel it's important for you to know that she expresses her affection verbally and is a very touchy person

Went to middle school with Maki and Korekiyo

Has horrible eyesight

She wears contacts most of the time but she always puts off buying more

After the 5th or so time she ended up blindly stumbling around a week after her contacts ran out Kyoko convinced her to buy glasses as well

Religious accessories yo

Like chokers and dangly earrings with crosses and pentagrams and shit

Likes wearing wacky earrings

Can run and do all sorts of tricks in heels

She and Mukuro are exes yo

Keeps her hair short so it's easier to manage

Hair never gets longer than her shoulders if she can help it

She seems like the kind of person who'd keep her bangs grown past her eyes regardless of how frustrating or inconvenient it is

She's a sub yall just don't wanna admit it

Funtime Foxy (FNAF)

I'm going on the record to say this

Funtime Foxy is genderfluid and that is that

Goes by Funtime

Any pronouns, They/Them most commonly

Plays music (keyboard and guitar mainly)

They and Funtime Freddy (Freds) mainly play with the kids

Freds mainly tells stories with Bonbon while Funtime more so plays one-on-one

Has nicknames for everyone

Circus Baby - Ringleader

Ballora - Bells

Funtime Freddy - Partner

Bon Bon - Bun

Peril (WOF)

I like both Nonbinary She/They Peril and Mtf She/Her Peril

They're both such good concepts

She's a lesbian, Harold

She only had a crush on Clay bc he was pretty much everything she was supposed to like in a guy

Gimme a moment while I force all my mental disorders onto this poor child

Autistic, Anxiety (Social anxiety, mainly, but she has most types), Adhd, PTSD

I'd like to reiterate yet again that She's a lesbian

Sunny and Glory were her gay awakening

Peril in Book 1: Damn, Sunny and Glory sure are pretty. Anyone would be lucky to date them. Clay would probably go for them over me. He would be stupid if he didn't. I myself would willingly date them over someone like me. They're just so pretty :(

Peril waking up in a cold sweat in the middle of arc 2: WAIT-

Rarepair alert but Peril/Sora

Peril meeting Sora: "Hmmm She's attractive. I would love to date her. Too bad I'm straight and in love with her brother lmao :P"

Peril, a mere month later, waiting for Ruby to leave Jade Mountain, pacing in her cave, running face first into a wall: WAIT-

I remember reading this one amazing story where Sora taught Peril to read/write and Peril found out she set off the bomb and comforted her/convinced her her run so that's canon now

Btw if anyone can remember what that story was called/what platform it was on and could tell me I'd appreciate it very much

I'd even be willing to draw a character of your's or make you an icon or something

I usually don't accept requests bc I get burnt out easy but this is a special case

She runs into Sora again sometime between the beginning of TOP and the end

I like to imagine she just goes wandering around

Anyway she confesses like a mere few minutes after running into her again bc Peril is just subtle like that

The actual confession takes 15 minutes and the entire time Sora is just sitting here like "👁👄👁 sure"

Bam Peril/Sora

Peril plans to keep it a secret for a little while longer but she spends 3 seconds around Clay and pretty much blurts it out

Clay, who wasn't even aware that Peril was a lesbian, is just "👁👄👁"

I wanna say Clay doesn't know what a lesbian is but in my canon Sunny is a lesbian so Starflight has already told him

Anyway he's super supportive

From that point Peril is sorta open about her sexuality?

Like, she gives Clay permission to tell the rest of the D.O.D bc she isn't about to risk being in front of them when they hear the news

(When Sunny starts actively seeking her out as a hang out buddy and Tsunami, Glory, and Starflight appear to tolerate her presence just a bit more afterwards she pretends she isn't confused by the change)

She's pink, white, and blue bc I said so

If you look at a certain angle in the right lighting her eyes, mouth, fire, and under her scales all look purple

But her fire is normally white and blue bc I said so

Also she pale as fuck bc in my canon their fire just sorta burns their colour away

You know how you leave something outside for too long and it gets sunbleached? Where it gets all washed out?

Like that but more extreme

By the age of 10-12 firescale dragons are just white with pale eyes

That's right not even the eyes are safe

Ram horns :P

I'm also fond of Peril/Sunny

Or maybe Peril/Sora/Sunny

But Peril/Sora is the main thing

On the topic of that bringing in my hc that if one sib in a sib group is fire resistant all of them are

She,,, She can change her scale colour

But only slightly and only if her emotions are strong enough

Bc I don't give a fuck about Darkstalker's scroll we were robbed of hybrid Peril

Unfortunately all of Peril's emotions are strong

Rainwing ruff along her head and neck

It's like a hood

It's mainly smoothed to her sides but when she's startled it flares out

RAINWING PUPILS

Y'all will know what those look like as soon as I get off my ass :P

She,,, She can mimic bird cries

Hates the summer

She has more than enough body heat already and the outside is just hot enough to add on and make her feel sick

She can somewhat control her heat but most of the time it's based on her emotions

It can go from standing-in-the-middle-of-a-burning-building-cant-see-your-nose-smoke-is-so-thick heat (Strong emotion) to Hey-thats-a-nice-cozy-campfire heat (Calm/"weak" emotion/Sleeping)

I'm just gonna make a different post with all my Peril hcs cuz there isnt enough room for all of them here

#Danganronpa #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #trigger happy havoc #danganronpa goodbye despair #goodbye despair #danganronpa v3 #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf sister location #wings of fire #she ra #bnha #my hero academia #headcanon #korekiyo shinguji #amaguji #himiko yumeno #shinsou hitoshi #kyoko kirigiri #Celesnaegiri #Celesgiri #mha tsuyu #ochatsuyu #ibuki mioda #entrapta spop #celeste ludenberg #peril wof #Sora wof #Sora/Peril wof

[aclosetfan]

21

(ask game) thank you so much for playing the game!! you’re the best (per usual)!!

Helllll yeahhhhh 21 is the DUMBEST STUPIDEST fic I’ve ever made and I lovvveee it 💚💙❤️ it’s the “Vampire Zombie” one i mentioned in the original ask game post 😂😂

So glad someone picked the number!! Background to keep in mind: do yall remember when there was just a shit ton of Vampire fics on FFN?? Idk about ao3, but for newer fandom members this was TOTALLY a trend in the early 2000s on ffn, and I was like why the fuck are all of these here??? And like, why is it constantly a predator-prey relationship between the rrb and ppg??? So I was like wait…okay, but this could be funny and decided to write a story making fun of these super cringey stereotypes.

The story would be a multi fic and I have zero idea how to explain it concisely, so basically below the cut is just me laying it all out for you srsly I’m just bearing my soul to you:

For the girls’ birthday, the Professor tricks out the simulation room they train in to be a VR game room b/c the girls had talked about VR once (and only once), but the Professor thought it was cool and ran with it. The Girls can create a world of their choosing and explore. They admit the idea is pretty cool and eventually start arguing where they should “go” first. Blossom suggests a historical era like the Victorian era/Bubbles suggests something romantic, where she hints at vampires/Buttercup doesn't like any of those ideas, but the vampires reminded her of all of her zombie videogames she plays and she ends up suggesting something like that instead/ To prevent arguing the Professors says he’ll combine all three ideas into one!

[[how does this machine work??? IDK in the spirit of early 2000 fanfics, anything complicated and confusing is only vaguely explained—which has in story effects that drive Blossom INSANE! Idk how it would work technically, but my choices as the writer on what is/is not describe and purposeful grammar mistakes has story implications] [ill explain this more later]]

The Professor loads up the “game,” but something malfunctions. He tells the girls (Buttercup) not to touch anything. She doesn't listen and ends up plugging something into an entirely different device against Blossom & Bubbles protest. The device is that old “time machine” thing the Professor made in one of the OG cartoon (the one where the girls meet the Young Professor). It turns out that whatever she does (again still don't ask me how) fuses the basic concept of the two machines together and creates a device that transports them to a parallel universe that matches the specifications of the “game” they wanted to create.

[[Throughout the story, i want to include little video game gags, like bottomless bags for storage, or random bullets laying around, little things like that. (they've lost their powers/ but BC keeps finding all these random guns/knifes so they're good) I also give the girls the “ability” to read the dialogue I write. So, when I mess up a comma (i.e. Let’s eat Grandma! vs Let’s eat, Grandma!), Blossom will look at the “character” they’re talking to and be like, “WELL, which is IT!?”] [I know it’s stupid, but I think its so fun!]]

So, because of the video game “glitch,” the girls think for the longest time they’re actually IN a video game, but when they “go to sleep” thinking that’ll save the game and they can quit, per Professor’s instruction, they find out they can’t. Cue freak out. After the calm down, Buttercup’s like okay, listen we probably just have to beat the game! Too bad they don’t know what the game’s objective is exactly. They just know they’re dressed in Victorian Era clothes and their “Professor” is the town’s doctor? Their mother died (tragically). It’s all a bit dramatic. They start searching for clues. Eventually, they find out that the Town has a zombie problem (THANKS BUTTERCUP!), and Blossom figures if they can cure that, they beat the game. Unbeknownst to them, they are actually stuck in a stupid vampire love plot there just happens to be zombies. [Like, you can’t have one supernatural creature without another and I wasn’t going to write about werewolves.] No one in town seems to care about the undead problem. Buttercup keeps “leveling up,” Blossom’s on the verge of a breakdown, and then, finally, Bubbles meets Boomer.

Boomer swears up and down Bubbles is his fated mate. Bubbles—who is definitely interested—is like ooo so you’re a vampire, cutie? He’s broody about it. She’s like so do you sparkle in the sun?? (I absolutely love sparkles, she says). He’s like, wut?? She’s like, do you sparkle???? He’s like, uh no, the sun kind of burns my energy tho. She’s like, oh. Okay. I see. You don’t sparkle. Sooo, well, haha, okay you seem like a really really sweet guy with the whole eternal devotion thing, but I don’t think this is really going to work out between us. He’s again like WUT. Boomer gets broken up with because he doesn’t sparkle.

Vampire Butch is flat out scared of Buttercup. Like he fully admits he’s sucked infants dry of their blood; he’s why people should fear the night; he’s not a “good guy”; but BC is a force to be reckoned with. In the Victorian era, I’m guessing they had little to no experience with the modern day “bro” and BC is full on bro. This doesn’t mesh well with Butch’s broody, dark, vampire thing he’s got going on. She’s too vulgar for a Victorian lady, she wears things called “Chacos,” and she has a gun??? Multiple guns. And He. Has. No. Fucking. Idea. What. She. Is. Saying!! No! He will not “dab her up!” No, he “doesn’t lift.” This wasn’t his mysterious, tough (but still a damsel, mind you) mate he met one fateful evening, this was some heathen creature (and this is coming from a vampire), so please, please, please, can he kill her?????  

Blossom’s like I don’t like to be touched and I’m a lesbian, and Brick’s like one) I think I respect you more than the old Blossom; two) the zombies just appeared, stop asking; three) you need to now help us find our mates before their eighteenth birthday or we’re all screwed.

Ready to kick ass and fight sexist stereotypes with their new “bros,” the girls set out with their new objective, hoping beyond hope that once they find the missing girls they’ll be able to go home. The girls find out that their parallel alternatives went disappearing a few days ago, so their “return” had been a relief to the whole town. [[Blossom’s like why did no one question our clothing?!?! Why are there zombies?!?!]] ugh and then, I don’t know what happens :( really. I never really ended it. They girls just constantly shit on the boys being broody vampires and kick zombie ass, like idk what else a gal could want out of a story. I feel like they end up finding the other girls. And I think that I was going to bring HIM into the mix, but it’s still just regular HIM. It turns out that HIM likes jumping dimensions to make the Girls life hell in every lifetime and has cursed the three girls living in the vampire dimension. (“I’ve got a life outside of just you, ya know.” HIM huffed, “What are you three doing here?”) It also turns out that out of all the dimensions, our Girls as Superheroes are the best at beating HIM and saving the day, so he’s extra pissy that they’re ruining his carefully crafted “historical romance vampire soap opera.” Blossom loses her shit because the historical inaccuracies are too high to now ignore, Bubbles is pissed because HIM didn’t make good enough vampires, and Buttercup’s like honestly, not a bad game, ngl. Everyone ignores her.

[[They beat HIM, free the other girls, return home, and BC obsesses over their stats sheets. Back in Vampire land, the boys are like wait a second the relationships we are now stuck in suck.] [The zombies are still not explained]]

#21 #is such a good number #my outlines #my writing #outline ask game #ppg fic outline #this is so stupid but come on I miss early 2000 fanfics #also like i said I don't know how i would even write the gaming glitches #but it would be really fun to figure out #maybe i WILL write this one someday just for the fun of it!! #lemme kno what you think #this is my last one tonight but plz keep on asking lol

[xcziel]

get to know me

tagged by @vishcount (thank you!!) and i'll follow her format bc making two posts seems a little much - i'm not that interesting!!

(hilariously, this post shows up as blocked for me bc of the tag 'joker' which? tumblr?????)

Part I

name: i'm an internet old, so i never use my real name online, mainly because it's spelled in a very unique way (thanks mom & dad) - i mean like, if you googled it you could find my home address in a few seconds kind of unique - but also, though i do enjoy the spelling, i actually don't like it very much when it's said out loud? (is it weird that my name written down is 'me', but my name aloud has never felt like 'me'?) always wanted a nickname but never acquired one :/

at any rate, i've had the username xcziel forever and i go by that 😊 (pronounced ex-SEE-zee-el, similar to etc. or ex-SET-er-ah! thanks @xia-xueyi for pointing out that it can be confusing to guess!)

rest behind a cut because it got long!

pronouns: she/her

star sign: i don't ... really *do* astrology? but technically saggitarius

height: 5'4" (162.5cm for the intl folks)

time: 5:43pm but these thing take me forever to type out so ... ???

birthday: playing the 'internet old' card again .. but it floats around american Thanksgiving depending on the year

nationality: american

fave bands/groups/solo artists: lumping these together because i just .. don't really do music much anymore. if you had asked me this back in my 20s i'm sure i would have had all kinds of opinions and things to share, but these days i actually mostly prefer to listen music from when i was a kid. part of it is also that as an old, i prefer to buy my music, even digitally, and i don't really use spotify - which does so much to enable diverse music exploration i admit! but i mostly have earplugs in all the time and music does not work for me as background noise, so...

so i guess my answer would be 70s disco and classic rock and 80s new wave artists? i've never liked any artist's entire discography and prefer greatest hits-type compilations, but i guess duran duran and def leppard and depeche mode would be considered formative? i love new order but specifically late 80s new order, NOT joy division. the only concert t-shirt i've ever worn was the cult? i loved sonic temple but i can't listen to most of it anymore though i still adore love removal machine. i think maybe if you get old enough, for some of us there's TOO MUCH good music and we can't pare it down anymore

song stuck in your head: jamiroquai's canned heat

last movie you watched: re: the above, i re-watched center stage, the 2000 one with zoe saldana and the mandy moore soundtrack, bc it's a happy comfort movie and i just got a digital version

last show you binged: i can't really "binge" very often bc after a couple of hours i need a break, so i guess i'd say the tgcf donghua on netflix since it was short enough to get through all in one go

when you created your blog: in 2012 i stopped lurking so i could post about the avengers movie

the last thing you googled: 5'4" in cm? lol before that it was chinese wrapped street food

other blogs: everything is here! i discovered i compartmentalize about as well as i tag reliably (😓) but i do have several automated ao3feed-tag style sideblogs. and i did, very briefly, have a *winces* hockey sideblog too

why i chose my url: ooh i know i've done this before, sorry if it's repetitive, basically it was the username i picked back when my family first got aol: short, unique combo of letters - 14-year-old me really thought about it! and then it wouldn't let me use anything other than my name. thirty-some-odd years later, trying to come up with a livejournal username that wasn't already taken and getting fed up, i plugged it in and went: good enough!

how many people are you following: like 760-something last i checked? although many, many, many of them are deactivated

how many followers do you have: idk i don't like looking at that stuff, but way fewer than i am following

average hours of sleep: it varies too much day by day, my sleep schedule is too wonky, i have no idea what the average would be

lucky numbers: 7? cliché i know, and again not really buying into it, but somewhere in my hindbrain i like it that my first, middle, and last names all have seven letters

instruments: none. i like singing

what i'm currently wearing: giant black t-shirt and baggy black drawstring shorts, standard sitting around the house gear

dream job: don't have one. if i did it would give me something to be working towards *sigh* this is how you end up in retail for decades, kids! but also, to quote a random post i saw in true tumblr fashion "i simply do not dream of labor"

dream trip: covered this one before but: back to the uk and some railway daytrips, or a really fancy northern cruise, atlantic/pacific either one

fave food: uhhh, don't really have a favorite but i'm almost always in the mood for pizza

top three fictional universe you'd like to live in: none really, if i had to still be me..maybe some kind of actually utopian future? but the pandemic has confirmed for me that i do NOT like living in interesting times, so most fictional story universes are RIGHT out. my favorites to read about like discworld or diana wynne jones' worlds would be way to chaotic for my comfort. possibly diane duane's young wizards universe would be safe enough to be okay?

Part II

last song: watching center stage made me think of my dance playlist so sunrise by simply red

last movielast stream: i don't watch streams or youtube often, so it was the same as you, vish! liu chang's birthday stream was SO enjoyable i screenrecorded the entire thing just so i could play it back (and maybe gif sometime if i ever get the drive to actually do it)

currently reading: well i just finished the translated quan qiu gao kao or global university entrance exam novel, which was sparked purely from catching a single rec post here on tumblr and basically just *falling* into this 166 chapter epic that is *amazing* and not coming up for air until i got to the end, which is typical novel-reading behavior for me (yes i was the kid who read through lunch period and got hassled by people who kept pestering me with "what're you reading" questions and yes i realize probably a lot of you on tumblr were too) plus, the new murderbot novel is out tomorrow!!!!! so that'll be where i end up next!

currently watching: the entire dmbj verse (that i can get my hands on) but ... sporadically and stopping at random different parts because the thing is ... this type of show is not really the kind i enjoy so much? so since it's more for "research" and learning character arcs (and let's be honest: shots of liu sang), etc. it's easy to get distracted by other stuff. i'm also watching the sleuth of the ming dynasty, mr queen, bromance, the expanse, re-watching farscape and stargate sg-1, just finished the falcon and the winter soldier, and then anytime something new and short gets introduced it jumps the queue. there are just. so. many. things. to. watch! (now i have to look into anti-fraud league too!? you all are cruel ...)

what is antipoetry to you: i ... don't really think much about poetry? i know what i prefer is usually the more basic rhymed kind like lewis carroll, emily dickinson, poe, coleridge, etc. so i suppose i don't have much use for classifying non-rhyming verse? i can appreciate stuff like rupi kaur which i guess would qualify? or that william carlos williams plums poem? but it doesn't really stick with me the way lyric-like verse does

currently craving: i never know what exactly this is meant to be in reference to ... hmmm, i would love a new high-concept, high production-quality movie like say, pacific rim, to be released, just for that massive, excited energy that comes with something new that hasn't already got tons of disappointing or conflicting history behind it - that would be so fun!!

other than that, right now, i mostly kinda want some fried fish? but that will have to wait until i go to get my second vaccine shot on wednesday since it's on the way there. i'd also like my internal body parts to settle down and fly right but it's been more than a month and they don't seem inclined :(((( maybe once i'm fully vaxxed i'll think about consulting somebody about it

tagging @foxofninetales @xia-xueyi @momosandlemonsoda @memorydragon @thewindsofsong @elvencantation @mylastbraincql @hesayshesgotboyfriend @aurawolfgirl2000 @smaragdine-galaxy and anyone who wants to! but never feel obligated and if you don't get around to it for like half a year that's totally fine, i am still interested!!!

#xcedit #is my only like 'me' tag #tag game #long post #i wanna do one of these with more unusual questions but not like those themed ones ... #tell me if the cut doesn't work i'm still not used to having them on mobile!

[cracknoir]

not really headcanons more just pretentious shit i wanted to type out - sometimes it’s good to listen to yourself talk ok 

i quite like writing with npc’s because it gives me a chance to like show what jimmy’s like to people he perceives as below him. i always feel like people i interact with get a sort of skewed view of the sort of guy jimmy actually is cos he has time for them, but i also never write with npcs because if i do i end up writing absolute fucking essays 

i used to rp deadpool and i think that’s why i just say all the crack stuff i write is canon 

this might sound like a dumb thing to say but i have to do things to write. i need to be out exploring and talking to people and it usually inspires me a lot without me noticing. like im not saying i NEED to go on a walk in the woods to start writing but i always find once i’ve done that kind of stuff when i get back i usually have Ideas™. the rule goes that you only ever want to write when you can’t write, for me at least. most of this shit is just daydreams i have at work. that said time’s also the enemy. last night i went out for a walk and by the time i was home i was just too fucked

music plays a big part in what i write but sometimes this fucks me up, sometimes i spend ages looking for the “right song” to write something when really i write just as well when i have like, lofi beats to study to on 

ive been thinking about writing more short stories, or vibes as i’ve been calling them. love writing those sort of out of context drabbles that i’ve been doing lately, maybe i could do them about more than just these characters  🤔 🤔 🤔 maybe i’ll write something about my cowboy mans  🤔 🤔 🤔

if i do some short vibes about my cowboy oc with no icons would people like be down for that 

scratch that i’m gonna do it and you can’t stop me 

i did it and it’s in the queue oops 

also this has been in my drafts so long that i’ve just started doing the vibes thing. i hope nobody’s taking it personally but work’s really kicked into gear the past couple days 

actual headcanons tho

i recently found out that the mercenary business in america has a large overlap with nazis however i always thought that alex specifically worked with nazis, this said i’d probably never write anything related to that on this blog. i do have a sidestory in my head where jimmy goes down to florida and ends up killing a bunch of nazis but not like, bc of the morals or anything 

also this doesn’t bug me at all and i’d never correct anyone bc lbr assassin is a cooler word but assassin relates to political killings usually, if your character kills for money they’re a mercenary BUT ALSO i think mercenary usually has connotations of like military training??? i should reiterate this isn’t an actual gripe i have, but none of my characters are assassins

jimmy won’t go outside to smoke. dont even bother asking him to unless you want trouble. 

jimmy’s faked his death ONCE canonically but also maybe as a shitposty joke ye he’s done it like five times. i mean, the best way to celebrate someones birthday is to gaslight them into thinking ur dead 

been thinkin bout growin a mullet but same with growing a Big Beard there’s this gross inbetween bit that i’m like nah 

jimmy and jack and brad and rasputin are all wildlife mans. the rest are city slickers that wouldn’t last two rotations of the sun without at least 4 bars of signal on their Damn Fone 

jack steals lighters and the worst part is you barely even notice him doing it. if he’s been on a night out he’ll wake up with like, 18 different lighters 

it’s unclear whether the ufos frankie sees are real, just plains, or if he’s just an attention seeking prick. i don’t think he sees actual aliens but he has a log of ufo encounters he’s had 

on the same note, molly loved urban exploring 

death loves ice cream, especially bubblegum flavor 

yes. satan did lose that fiddling contest. everyone should stop talking about it. 

Claude’s killed roughly about 60 people 

Molly, Jack, little jake and jimmy will drive around for no reason just doing numerous drugs. sometimes it’s coke but they mostly just smoke weed and once they drove around sniffing mdma 

jimmy hates speed but still does it. jack hates ketamine but still does it if offered. 

u can tell what jack’s up to by what he offers u when u first walk into his house. if he offers you a coffee, you’ll probably be offered a smoke next, if he offers u a drink, you’ll probably be offered a line next. 

also jack bought a fancy coffee maker and makes like caramel coffees nd shit 

i really need to cut this shit off this post’s getting too long 

consider this shit cut off 

shit 

cut

off

GOODNIGHT EVERYBODY 

#do i have a headcanon tag yet??

[sunnysviolin]

hewwo!! ur prob tired of seeing me in ur inbox lol but here i am again! anyways K, O, T, W are my prompts for the fandom ask game!! also hope u have a great bday with ur loved ones!!! ヽ(´▽｀)/

LOLOL I was so confused but then I looked at my tags....I”M A fool!! I meant to post this a week ago, I must’ve messed up the scheduling...birthday weekend was last weekend, but I apprecaite the love!!! Also I’m never tired of my faves so you’re good <3 :D

K: What’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with?

Oooof....specifically for Omori? Probably Shattered AU...not that I want to spoil anything but like....it’s not it gets worse before it gets better. It’s just it gets worse and that’s it. I have some pretty angsty BNHA ideas but none of yall want BNHA on the omori side blog LOL

Another pretty angsty one I have is in the wroks right now. It’s based off of this insanely fantastic art that @iknowicanbutwhy did with Hero and Sunny. I still get chills looking at that picture.....AU comign soon, probably this weekend. 

O: How do you begin a story–with the plot, or the characters?

I usually begin with a specific scene in mind. Not even a plot or the characters haha. I have apparently a different way of thinking, where I think of everything as full pictures in my brain. It’s kind of like always having my own running movie haha! Anyway I see a specific picture in my brain (usually triggered by a piece of music or a specific line of dialogue) and it makes a daydream that I think about and then eventually write. For examples Promises started because I had two pictures in my brain- Hero and Mari lying nose to nose talking in the dead of night and Hero kneeling in tears in front of Mari’s ghost. Those two pictures birthed up the plot and then there was Promises!

T: Any fandom tropes you can’t stand?

Not a big fan of genderbend (I read somewhere about how it’s kind of transphobic, and ever since that I can’t get it out of my brain) and I don’t really like domestic type AUs (Coffee shop, tattoo parlor, flower ship, etc.) Most AUs like that are pure romance stories, and I’m actually not a huge fan of romance! I prefer family and action and angst.

Tropes I don’t like...I guess I also don’t realllly like Slowburns. I mean I will devour a good slowburn just like any sane person, but I feel like they’re kind of overdone. I just want a piece of media where the couple just always is in love and always knows it....probably why I stan HeroMari so hard LOL

W: Do you like more general prompts, or more specific ones?

I like both for different reasons! General prompts let me spread my wings and see what winding road my brain takes me down, but specific prompts are easy to hyperfocus on

I will say though like I need to click with a specific prompt. If it doesn’t create an immediate picture in my head, I can’t write it. There’s a bunch of specific prompts that may end up dying in my drafts bc my brain just like flips the channel everytime I look at them 

Thanks for all the questions Rose! Youre a dearie

#asks #redrosecarnage #Literally never not excited #to see you in my inbox #youre the best!!! #Fanfic ask game #Me lol

[palukoo]

andy, toby, and cj!!

thank you!! i always reblog these forgetting I can't pick favorites to save my life but! I will try!!

Andy

First impression: god i love her

Impression now: god i love her (but now with more depth!)

Favorite moment: see this is the favorites thing... remarkably hard considering how little she's there. I have to go with "the good people of Maryland. MARYLAND!" but really anything she does in that ep (esp the "you know i'm gonna get sued" conversation) or... in general... is great

Idea for a story: oh boy... well i AM going to write the long cj/andy fic at some point! hm. let's get specific... @otzi this is for you... cj, andy, and toby at a cher concert.

Unpopular opinion: are there popular opinions about andy? hmm, i guess maybe that i don't really blame her for the "you're just sad, toby" conversation because it is like. rude, obviously, and all that, but i think it's hard for me to begrudge her after he says he thought she was just being cute when saying she didn't want to marry him again. i think mostly though i just... think more about andy than the average tww viewer.

Favorite relationship: cj/andy! also cj/andy/toby or andy&toby bc yeah! but i also have to shout out donna&andy bc I want it so badly

Favorite headcanon: hmmm i have a lot, really. i mean, like, that she isn't straight... that she's one of the most liberal members of congress, probably. that she's also half jewish. that she's always wanted kids. that she struggles with like survivor's guilt after gaza... idk!

Toby

First impression: I honestly don't know but I didn't like Toby as much on my first watch as I do now bc I thought he was condescending and I'm right but like. They all are, kinda

Impression now: i love him! he's very funny and i love his dynamics with everyone and i go a little crazy thinking about him never working on winning campaigns and writing for rafferty and being so cynical but so idealistic at the same time. he still has written by a man disease (honestly. sorkin deserves his own subtype) but i love him!

Favorite moment: fuck! uh. um. hmm. okay obviously the "your father used to hit you" is a good scene and so is like. the better angels line... toby gets a lot of really good lines damn! i might just have to go with in excelsis deo as a whole though because it just shows him as a really good person, and it's bonkers to me with the context from later seasons that. he spends his entire birthday trying to track down next of kin for the dead homeless vet. idk. toby really gets a lot of sorkin's idealism dialogue which can be very lovely... but i think a lot of other moments i'd pick for him would be a lot more about his relationships with other characters bc. that is how i consume media

Idea for a story: honestly, while i love him, it's hard for me to think of doing like. a toby centric story. he definitely fits into a lot of my cj/andy(/toby) stuff obviously, but i tend to more cj centric... hmm. perhaps the post post canon toby & amy fic of my dreams where she writes a book that he critiques endlessly and they run someone's (probably rafferty's) campaign together

Unpopular opinion: i... don't hate his s7 plot? i totally, 100% get why people do, especially going back and watching s1, because his whole thing is loyalty and that jed is his guy and all that, but he also argues with jed over calls all the time, and i think... hm. the late seasons kind of break all the characters? and i get why people don't like that obviously, but i think it's just about pushing them to a point where there going to act differently than we expect them to (cj keeping will and toby out of the loop like she would've complained about and having to become much more pragmatic, josh leaving, donna leaving, toby committing treason, jed sort of losing power, etc...), and it's interesting development and it's weirdly something i accept at face value rather than push back against?

Favorite relationship: romantic? idk, i like cj/andy/toby and i like josh/toby too. friendship? everyone lmao. i really really love cj&toby and josh&toby and toby&sam and you get the point. tww is a family it's hard to individualize

Favorite headcanon: like i am obsessed with bi toby. idk, like. bc of what i want to write about, i sorta think of his relationship to the concept of family a fair amount... and then like this isn't even headcanon but there's a richard schiff interview somewhere where he says "his desire to cut people down is minimal. It's something he could do in his sleep, and it's not the point." and i just think about that so much.

CJ

First impression: wow!!!! wow!!! holy shit!!! i love her!!!

Impression now: all of that still and i would very very much like to hug her and want her to be happy and god she is so so good i lose my mind. i stay up at night thinking about her.

Favorite moment: there's too many!! cj has so many funny moments that i adore and they're a huge part of what makes me love her but i also love her heavier things. i love her trying to leak the story about the gay kid's dad in season one to danny. i LOVE her trying to quit until jed asks her to stay. i love her laughing and saying "the fall's gonna kill you" and i love her crying alone as she walks around new york and hallelujah plays. i love (maybe, it's complicated) her and donna in no exit. i love her when she starts as chief of staff and i love her answer to the press about her sexuality. i love her now knowing what the hell she wants in late season 7. hmm. i'm gonna say balancing the egg.

Idea for a story: okay well i'll talk about the cj/andy wip here in broad terms because like. it's about cj relearning how to be happy but like more specifically how to think about what she wants after canon, because i don't think she's like completely unhappy for all of canon and she's very optimistic compared to a lot of the others but like, she does spend a fair amount of canon just making sacrifices, and i want her to get a break and have a family!

Unpopular opinion: idk how popular or not this is, i just can't get behind cj/danny. i can't. it's too much him chasing after her while she seems mostly indifferent or vaguely annoyed. i hate that her ending is with him because to me the whole point of that episode wasn't "cj can't see a good thing in front of her" but was "cj has a hard time stepping away from what she perceives as an obligation/thinks she should do (usually to make other people happy)" and should've culminated in her not working with santos and not being with danny.

Favorite relationship: cj/andy! again i cannot possibly choose a platonic one... i'm going to SAY cj&josh bc. i love them, but in two seconds i'll remember anything about any other interaction of hers and go insane

Favorite headcanon: hmm again i have a lot! largely about family and that whole concept! huh. god. i think a lot of it is like canon or at least strongly canon supported, or i've already mentioned. like, cj being really good at disguising her emotions is just plainly canon. oh! hey! i really do love she/they cj!

#asks #answered #claudiasjeancregg #apologies if this makes no sense it is late and i spent several hours before this researching real politics and several hours before that #vaguely uh. editing fic i guess? / kinda writing. so brain broken but i wanted to answer :) #tww #andy wyatt #toby ziegler #cj cregg #gotta say i really don't know how i've become this attached to amy&toby but i have! same goes for amy&sam but i at least actually write #that one a fair amount in the amy fic and i havent done much with toby #this is an invitation to ask me about literally any relationship or group of people in tww and what i think their dynamics are like. #bonus points for including amy jsfbdb but not required!!

[ddaenggtan]

black irises in the sunshine | kth

anger is everything. other gods tease you for the short fuse, but it comes with the territory. people have called you stupid, have called you dumb, oafish, useless, incompetent, insolent, rude, arrogant. all of it. insults and mockery flung at you, but even your skin isn’t thick enough to deal with constant abuse. it’s the exact reason you keep going to the underground, knuckles bloody and bruised, fighting anyone that dared enter the cage. it’s the reason you go to the clubs, surround yourself with mortals and their writhing bodies. it’s there that you see him the first time, voice husky as it rolls through the room. it’s there you find someone who treats you differently than the rest. you just never expected him to be one of the muses. | monsters and gods pt 3 (masterlist)

pairing | taehyung x reader

genre/warnings | greek god au, calliope!taehyung, ares!reader, theres a lot of violence and it does get descriptive so be aware of that, none of the main characters other than ares get hurt and its not uncalled for or anything in a narrative sense, so just be aware of that; there are mentions of other idols, but if you can guess them you get a cookie because they are Vague; suuuuper bisexual Ares, Ares Can Step On Me, like I am SO gay for her it isn’t funny; explicit smut ft: cunnilingus, taeHUNG bc hes got MASSIVE SCHLONG,  some body worship kind of and then just....regular worship? like? idk how to explain that? lots of praise and lots or orgasms

word count | 14k | cross posted to ao3

a/n | HOOOOOOO this has been sitting in my google docs for literal months waiting for an ending and i decided to try to get it out for tae's birthday bUT that didn't work because i have a Job and shit so YEET I GUESS HAPPY FUCKIN NEW YEAR??? LIKE??? YEEEEEEEEEEEEE this fic is very near to me because Ares is my sweet sad angry babie and i love her, and i love tae and i love suho and i love the muses and i just........lOVE this fic like i think this is currently my favorite of the mag series so!! i hope yall also enjoy it!!!! yall are welcome to send me messages about this even tho I'm terrible at replying to them in a timely manner!! thanks to everyone who helped me with this, and everyone who has expressed interest in it, and everyone who has ever read anything of mine, because you're genuinely the best people ever, and this is literally a gift to y'all because you deserve it. 

Fuck, that was too hard .

The guy across from you goes flying, hitting the chain link wall of the cage harder than you intended. Every nerve ending in your body is on fire, and even holding back, you've got a better buzz than even the best nectar can give. Your blood sings as the guy gets back up, and you almost wish you could remember his name, because he's put up a hell of a fight. For a mortal, anyway. 

He charges at you again, and time slows as your vision tunnels. You can see the feint as he decides on it, how he hesitates in bringing his left up. You wait, watching him get closer and closer. You start to dart to your left, letting him think he's got you, before you side-step and dart to your right instead. His punch goes wide as you steady your balance and move. The top of your foot connects with his ribcage and the resulting crack of bone is lost amid the cheers and yells of the audience. 

Your opponent steps back and you're proud of the way he doesn't show the pain. He doesn't wince, doesn't move to touch the spot you hit, just tightens his stance and clenches his jaw. It's only you that notices the hitch in his breath, the way he flinches with every inhale. Your eyes narrow at that, zeroing in on the rib. You'd meant to just crack it, had been holding back most of your strength to keep from hurting him too seriously, but as he steps forward, you can see the way he grits his teeth against the pain. 

The fight leaves you immediately, like a bucket of cold water straight to the chest, and you drop your hands. 

"Yield." He just stares at you, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Yield to me, and then go to the doctor."

"I'm not gonna yield," He says. He spits a mouthful of blood out onto the floor. "I'm not weak."

"Seriously, dude," You insist. "You're not gonna win this, and I don't want to hurt you more." 

His scoff has you seeing red. "As if a princess like you could hurt me."

Your fist connects with his face before either of you registers that you've moved. There's a voice in the back of your head reminding you that he's just mortal, he can't take the same kind of beating you can, but it's lost in the haze of fury. The next thing you know, the ref is dragging you away and slamming you into the cage wall. Your opponent is being dragged out - you still don't know his name - and he looks beaten senseless. Victory rolls through you accompanied by a sick satisfaction at the way his blood looks decorating the canvas beneath your feet. 

It lasts for less than an hour. It's always like this; the thrill of the fight, the burn of success, it's gone faster than you can blink. It's what drives you to keep fighting, to keep going to match after match, just to seek out the under-the-table stuff afterwards. It's never enough, not anymore. Back in the old days, they'd let you fight anything. Bears, bulls, lions, giants, anything they could get a noose around long enough to point it at a colosseum. That was a long time ago, though, before all the rights movements happened. You won't lie: you miss fighting beasts like that. The sheer power and strength they have, the survival instinct that makes them such fierce competitors, it's so much better than the rules and regulations of the mortal world now. Fights have gotten dull, rehearsed, more like a performance or a show than an actual fight. People make more money losing than they do winning and it's made the world boring. 

You flex your hand as you open the door to your favorite bar. Something caught it at some point in the last fight, a cheekbone or a tooth, and it stings a little. Doesn't hurt, not exactly, not for a goddess, but it did enough that you feel it at all, which means it couldn't have been anything but torture for the guy on the other end. The bartender waves at you and gets your usual ready as you sit, and you idly wonder if Busted Rib Guy will be okay. It looked painful, for a human, and you'd tried to hold back, but…

Well, you weren't really responsible for what happened to condescending little fucks, were you?

You sip the bourbon, enjoying the burn as it goes down. The lights are dim, tonight. You're glad. You don't want to deal with people looking at you, men coming over to talk to you, trying to advise you on how to properly bandage your knuckles or how to avoid the bruise on your cheek next time. If you had wanted to avoid it, you would have. You'd intended it to hurt worse, honestly, but that first guy'd had a weaker right hook than you expected. 

You look around, wondering if anyone here would provide a decent distraction for the night. There's a pretty brunette in the corner with carefully crafted braids, and as your eyes travel, you imagine what's hiding beneath the silk and leather. You're pulled from the thought by the sound of music, and you curse under your breath. You forgot that it's an open mic night and you'd meant to go to the bar across town instead. Irritation colors your vision; every open mic night is awful, full of lofty poets talking about their trauma and wannabe Taylor Swifts thinking they're on the same level as Sappho. Ah, now that was a girl with a set of pipes. You miss her, wonder what she would say to the butchering of whatever song you're about to hear.

The voice that comes isn't what you expect. It's smooth and deep. The world turns to velvet around you as the voice wanders from one speaker to another, creating a mesmerizing multi-dimensional effect despite the way the singer doesn't ever leave the stage. You turn, knuckles white around your bourbon glass; he's utterly magnetic, every eye in the room trained on him as he purrs into the vintage mic. Long fingers are wrapped around the scuffed metal, decorated with jewels that glitter in the dim light of the bar. You can smell the lingering cigarette smoke from the guy beside you and the Jäger from the girl two stools down and for once, you don't even care. He's captivating, voice travelling between speakers in the bar and coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. 

Your eyes don't leave him, and you wonder if you can memorize the way the blond waves fall against his forehead if you stare long enough. 

The red seeps away from you, slinking back into the corners of your mind, settling once more into a low thrum under your skin. It fades into the background of this man's voice, the charisma that rolls off him in waves as he pulls the mic in close just to push it to the side with a teasing smirk. It settles something in your chest that hasn't been calm since the fight in Athens so long ago. 

The music fades out sooner than you'd like, and he gives a slight bow before wandering into the crowd. You do your best to follow him, but the gold of his hair disappears almost immediately, lost in the throng of people around the stage waiting to speak to him. You turn back around, downing the next bit of bourbon that Suho pours you. 

"I know," He says with a grin. You cock a brow at him, not having said anything he could agree with. "He's good. That's what you were thinking, right? He's why we're so packed on open mics. Got the audio and lighting guy whipped, so he's got all these special effects, too. Drives people crazy.”

"He's alright," You mutter. You toss a few bills down on the bartop and step back. Suho gives you a courteous nod as you leave. The bouncer gives you a dirty look when he spots the lit cigarette between your lips, but he knows better than to try to tell you otherwise. You've taught him better. 

You lean back against the brick wall of the alley and take a drag. The warm smoke fills your lungs and you close your eyes. It's a different kind of burn than you're used to, a distraction from the crawling sensation that drives you to fight. It's calmer, more controlled. Feels like the smoke from Hestia's fires. Feels like home. 

"Never expected to see you here," A voice calls out. It's deep and startling in the darkness, but you don't jump. You just open your eyes, exhale, and look to where it came from. 

The singer stands before you in the same undone white button up and black tee he performed in. He doesn't have a cig, doesn't seem to have much of any reason to be outside. He moves almost lazily, as if he doesn't even need to, just wants to, and when his gaze flicks up to meet yours, your vision fills just for a breath with every opponent you've ever faced lying at your feet. 

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" The words slip from your tongue before you can stop them. It's not his fault, the voice in your head says, he didn't mean it that way, but still, your blood is thrumming now that he's here and you want to know what he's talking about. Want to know why he thinks you wouldn't be here when there's attractive people and good bourbon and you've never seen this man before in your life. Want to know why he already seems to think you aren't civilized enough to be at a bar, why he spoke but all you heard was Zeus' voice in your memories.

"Exactly what I said. Should I be clearer?"

"Yeah, probably," you spit. Yet another person that assumes you're stupid, that you don't understand basic languages, as if you haven't been speaking them since the ancient times. As if you couldn't speak circles around him if you wanted. "Unless you want your teeth on the fucking ground."

"Good to know the stories are true." He tsks and you're filled with a strange sense of disappointment and fury, both at him and yourself. Your vision turns red at the edges and the cigarette between your fingers is crushed in your grip. He pays no mind to it, just saunters past with a lazy, swaying gait that draws your eyes to his hips and then down the long leather-clad legs. "See you around, Ares."

"That's not my fucking name," You yell after him. He doesn't respond when you shout your actual name, the one you chose, on your own, as a middle finger to the Olympians. "Get it right next time, dickwad."

He turns the corner of the alley and the streetlight catches his face just enough for you to see the smirk he wears. For once in your life, you're torn; you want to smash his face in, yes, because how dare this random guy speak to you like that when you could kill him with one finger to the right pressure point. You also find your skin's hotter than usual, stretched too thin over your bones, and you want him to run his hands over you until it feels right again.

Until it feels like it did when he was singing. 

How did he know my title?

The thought comes unbidden, days later, with the desperate hit of a palm against your shoulder. You've got the woman in a headlock, patiently waiting for her to pass out completely so the fight can be called, and your mind is wandering. 

How did the singer know who you are? You hadn't thought anything of it at the time, distracted by fury and frustration, but with time comes a special kind of clarity. You've never seen him before, not that you know anyway, yet he didn't hesitate to call you Ares. The only ones who know of your kind are your kind, but you haven't seen any of your siblings among mortals in a long time. You thought you knew the other gods and goddesses, but maybe not. It has been a while since you stepped foot in the golden city.

The woman in your grip goes slack and you release her. You're still lost in thought as the ref calls the match and leads you out of the makeshift ring. The cheers of the audience are background noise at this point, akin to static or the buzz of electricity, and you pay them no mind as you head to collect your winnings. You didn't even get any kind of buzz from success this time, too immersed in the way the singer walked and talked and looked. The image of his smirk is burned into your retinas. 

"Yeah, you didn't hear? He just got out of the hospital. They had to keep him overnight because they thought he might puncture a lung. I heard that if it had been a little worse, they would've had to wire his jaw shut." You stop, fingers brushing over the stack of bills you don't even remember being handed. You look up, making eye contact with the guy whispering nearby. Your suspicions are confirmed when his friend smacks his arm and juts his chin in your direction before they both disappear into the crowd. 

You shove your way outside, frustration creeping through you and coloring your vision. You manage to keep it contained long enough for you to make it to the alley behind the warehouse, but it explodes from you in a rush of thrown dumpsters and sheet metal. 

Fuck , you never meant to hurt him like that. You told him, you fucking told him to yield, it isn't your fault he didn't listen. It's not your fault that he went and insulted you, acted like he was better than you just by virtue of being a dude, as if you weren't worshipped in the old days for the power you had and the blessings you could give. You'd held back, through all of it, you'd told him to yield, and he insulted you. It wasn't your fault. 

You slide to the ground, running a shaking hand through your hair. It isn't your fault , you repeat. You close your eyes and take deep breaths, the way Hestia taught you, willing the fury to dissipate. It's like a fire in your veins, burning and bubbling your skin until you can't resist anymore. You take another breath. It isn't your fault. You tried. You offered an out. It isn't your fault. Fuck, what was his name? 

With a growl that quickly morphs into a scream, you kick the dumpster once more before stalking off into the darkness. You need a fucking drink and you're gonna find a distraction in someone else if it's the last thing you do. 

The club is packed when you get there; you're not usually a fan of clubs like this, too full of people who are too friendly, but they're perfect for nights like tonight. You don't even need to wait in line, just slip the bouncer a 50 as you pass, and the bartenders are quick to spot you. You're pretty notorious in the city for over-paying, which means you're knocking back bourbon before you have a chance to ask for it. There are people everywhere, pressed up against both sides of you while the bass thrums in your throat, and it takes you longer than you're proud of to realize why. 

There's a band playing, apparently. They're not bad; the vocalist isn't anything like the singer from Suho's, but it doesn't make you want to tear your ears off, so you consider it a success. 

You're dancing before you remember deciding to. Everything's a blur when you get the itch in your bones, the need to make someone bleed. To feel something that isn't rage or condescension. People are even closer here on the dance floor, suffocating in their proximity, but there's a woman grinding her ass into you, and it sparks the dying fire in your gut. The beat of the music drowns your own heart, and it's all flashing lights and heat and a body pressed against yours that is all too willing.

She follows when you go back to the bar for another drink, and giggles when you lick salt from her wrist before downing tequila. Her hands are wrapped in the leather of your jacket as she kisses you, your own resting lightly on her hips. She laughs against your lips and says something you don't hear before ordering another drink. Something makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

You take the brief reprieve to look around the club, searching for whatever it is that has you on alert. You find him on the upper level of the club, leaned over the balcony with a drink in hand. You can't make out his expression, exactly; it's too far away and too guarded. But you'd know him anywhere now. The singer knocks back whatever's in his glass, eyes never leaving yours. You don't know why he's here, if he comes here often or if the Fates are having a laugh at your expense, but you do know you want to make the most of it.

The girl is back, pressing a heated kiss to your lips and drawing your attention from him. You return it, nipping at her lips and getting a small gasp in return. You smirk and bite your way down her neck. She's breathy in your ear, hitched moans lost in the beat of the music, but you barely hear her as you suck bruises into the skin of her neck. He's still watching you. His drink is gone and he's gripping the bannister of the balcony, rings glinting in the light. You wonder if the cool metal could soothe the burn in your bones. You want to know if he can bring that calmness from before back, if he can soothe the frenzy in your mind with his hands the way he can with his voice. Just imagining it has you soaking through to your jeans.

The girl makes a particularly loud noise in your ear and you're brought out of your thoughts. As if he can sense it, the singer straightens. He gives you one last look before disappearing back into the crowd, and you wonder if you're imagining the disdain in it. You draw back from the girl's neck, about to tell her to find her friends when she slides her hands in your hair and tugs.

The burn in your blood is back, now, and you hope this girl is prepared for what awaits her.

"You're here early," Suho says when he spots you in the nearly empty bar the next night. He's not wrong, either; you skipped the fights tonight completely. There was no buzz last time, no relief, and you have no reason to believe there would be tonight. Not with the way the singer captivates your thoughts. 

Besides, you have enough money leftover from the previous few to last a couple days.

"What, did you decide not to kick someone's ass before getting wasted?" Suho doesn't wither at the look you give him, just pours you a couple fingers of bourbon and slides the glass over. "Or did they just stop letting you in completely?"

"I might change my mind if you don't shut up," You tell him. There's no real heat behind it. You've known Suho for years now, been coming to his bar for so long it almost feels like home. You're almost friends at this point. 

It helps that he knows when to bite his tongue so he doesn't get his teeth knocked out.

"Seriously though, I don't think I've ever seen you here this early. Especially not on mic nights." You're very careful in your lack of a reaction to his words. You'd seen the workers setting up for it when you came in, and even if you hadn't, you know when mic night is. You've spent enough time avoiding it.

"Does he sing every time?" You ask in lieu of an explanation. You don't look away from the amber liquid in your glass, letting the silence hang as the bartender does his best to follow your thought process. 

"Taehyung? Most weeks, yeah. It's been a nice change from the usual drunken karaoke. He goes around to some of the other places in town, too. Apparently he just likes to sing." 

"Taehyung," You repeat. The name rolls from your tongue a bit awkwardly. It's more than you expected, somehow, but you can't place exactly how . Just...more. "Is he always that good?"

"Oh, yeah. We have regulars now for mic night because of him. He's got a whole fan club and everything."

"Hm." You drain the rest of your bourbon and Suho refills it. He leaves you in peace then, serving some others that appear at the bar. 

The place fills faster than you can blink. That's what it feels like, anyway. It's like one moment there's you and a handful of other people scattered around, and now you're being jostled between some dude a million feet tall that definitely doesn't look old enough to be here and a girl with her tits up to her throat and surrounded by a cloud of perfume so thick that it starts a migraine behind your eyes almost instantly. She flirts with Suho a little, likely trying to score free drinks, and you roll your eyes. She pouts at him when he gives her the total, batting eyelashes that go on for miles, and for once, you wish Suho would just give in and comp the drinks. 

"I'll pay for them," You say. She was definitely saying something, maybe you should have been paying attention to it, but fuck , this migraine is only getting worse the longer she stands there. "I'll pay for your drinks."

"Oh, thanks," She says. Her smile is hesitant, and quickly turns apologetic as she takes in the boots and the ripped jeans and the leather jacket. "Um, I'm not...I don't, uh…"

"Do I look like I want to fuck you, sweetie?" She looks a little affronted and a laugh escapes you. You lean closer, letting your breath ghost over her cheek as you speak in her ear to be heard better. "If I wanted to fuck you senseless, you'd know it. And I can guarantee you it would be a hell of a lot better than the watered down rat piss this guy's giving you." 

When you lean back, her face is flushed and she's stammering. You smirk and hand her the drinks she'd ordered. 

"Too bad you’re not, you don’t, huh?" You tell her. The patronizing tone isn't lost on her, nor is your mockery of her earlier words, and she shuts her mouth with an audible click before strutting off. Suho glares at you as he pours more bourbon.

"Can you please try not to run off my patrons?" He mutters. "Some of us actually need money to live."

"Some of us would like decently timed refills and to not choke on perfume," You quip. "And better bourbon, for that matter." He hisses something about what he's giving you being top quality but you tune him out, throwing one leg over the stool Perfume Girl vacated. You'd like to keep just a little bit of personal space. 

Across the bar, you catch a brief glimpse of the girl from the night before and you wince. Her neck is thoroughly bruised, and you catch a peek of bruises and scratches on her back as she shrugs her jacket on. You didn’t mean to be so rough with her, even if she had been into it; you’re usually pretty good about remembering that the mortals are just that - mortal - and as such have to be handled delicately. They’re so fragile, it feels like they could break with a strong wind. Guilt settles in your gut and turns the bourbon in your glass to cough syrup. You’ve half a mind to just leave before she sees you, are about to turn and do exactly that, but the speakers screech to life and the deafening feedback from the mic keeps you glued to your seat. 

The crowd quiets even as the excitement ramps up, all talk silencing but for the occasional hushed whispers here and there. The first few notes of the song echo through the speakers, and a spotlight appears on him. 

He looks different this time, his hair dyed a vibrant blue that matches the glinting jewels in his ears and on his hands. He's an absolute vision and you wonder how Aphrodite has allowed him to live so long when he's so beautiful. His voice hangs in the air and calms you, the same settling in your chest as last time, the same freedom from the burn in your veins. It's addictive. 

The song doesn't last nearly as long as you want it to but the stillness inside you lingers long after he's done caressing the microphone. You place a few bills down for Suho and light up a cigarette as you head outside, ignoring the dirty looks from other patrons as you do. You're on a mission, the thrum of bloodlust returning with every second that passes, and you can't even be sure if he's still around or if he's wandered off already. 

You stand in the alley for what feels like hours, turning at every sound and smoking cig after cig just so you have something to do. You've almost decided to say fuck it when footsteps sound from the back of the bar, coming closer to you. 

His blue hair is visible even from the other end of the small alley, a giveaway similar to the light at the end of your cigarette and the smoke you blow into the air. There's no way he hasn't seen you, you think, you're making no effort to hide or be sneaky, and yet he's continuing forward as if he doesn't see you at all, eyes focused on a phone in his hand. You wait until he's just a few steps away before speaking.

"How do you know my title?" You ask him. He stops as if he'd always meant to and doesn't even bother to glance up at you or respond. The edges of your vision turn scarlet at the blatant disregard and you're speaking before you can even process the words. "I asked you a fucking question, pretty boy, you're gonna answer me. Unless you want that precious mouth bloodied up."

"And you wonder how I know who you are," He drawls, still not bothering to spare a glance at you. A scowl grows over your face at his sarcastic tone. "If you're going to hit me just get it over with. Otherwise, I have places to be."

He stands, waiting and expectant, but you don't move. He's humming, quiet and to himself like he doesn't even realize he's doing it, and the red seeps away from your mind until you're left clear-headed once more. You sigh, long and heavy, and crush your cigarette into your denim-covered thigh to put it out. It tickles. 

"I'm not going to hit you," You tell him eventually. "I just wanna know how you know me. And how you do it."

He cocks a brow at that, finally looking up from the phone in his hand to level dark eyes on yours. "Do what? Sing?"

"No." You swallow around the sudden lump in your throat. The words are harder to find than you thought they'd be, lost in the depths of his gaze, in the clarity you're so unaccustomed to, in the way you feel like you can breathe for the first time in days. "I don't care how you sing, that's not important, it's the...fuck, you know what, never mind, it doesn't fucking matter." You push off the wall and step past him to head towards where the streetlight gleams off the bar windows. 

"Tell me." The command has you stopping in your tracks, and you're again flooded with just wanting to know how. How he clears the haze, how he stops you, how he makes you feel real. You turn, hands stuffed into the back pockets of your jeans. "How I do what?"

It takes you several long breaths before you can answer, and you aren't even sure he can hear you over the sounds of people leaving the bar, and you find yourself disappearing into the crowd without waiting for a response. Your own words are reverberating in your skull, getting louder with each step you take, and you wish you could just turn it off . 

"How you make me feel like a person again."

You avoid the bar for a few weeks, going hours away from your usual area to an unfamiliar hole in the wall just to make sure you don’t see him. You’re more deadly than usual in your fights, victories coming quicker, injuries piling up along with the guilt, but you can’t bring yourself to return. It’s unnerving, the way everything goes quiet around him, the way you can think, but the worst is the way you can feel. Everything’s calm and steady and blue, and it only makes it easier for the regret and the guilt and the anxiety to curl around your throat and squeeze until you can’t breathe, to clog in your throat while the laughter of your siblings echoes in your ears, and you...can’t. You can’t do that, you can’t let it win, you can’t let them win, they can’t know that you’re everything they think you are and worse. 

You can’t let yourself drown in that, and yet you find yourself back at Suho’s, lost among the crowd while Taehyung’s voice surrounds you. The ache in your bones fades away, chased by the thrum of the fight that still lingers despite the hours that have passed since you felt your opponent’s femur break under your palm and their screams echoed in your ears. Everything is calm again, and the guilt nearly drowns you.

He hasn’t even finished singing before you’re outside, chest heaving as you gasp against the weight on your chest. You broke someone’s femur , and did you even really need to? The fight itself is a blur even now, snapshots playing through your mind like a montage. The way they’d darted at you first, how their foot felt connecting with the backs of your knees, the determination in their eyes when you went down, the jolt of shock as your hands wrapped around their leg, the dull throb of a barrage of hits against your waist as you pulled them down as well and bloodied their face, the blood-curdling scream as you snapped the bone like a pretzel stick.

Your breath comes faster in your lungs, forced out by the growing guilt that lodges there in its place. Images swirl in your mind, chased by a never-ending stream of thought and regret that you should be used to by now. Fuck, you didn’t need to, and you still did it; you lost control, you fucking hurt them, and for what? A couple hundred? Was it even worth it? Who knew when they’d be back into shape to fight, what if they needed the money? They weren’t even half-bad. They got you down, at least, shouldn’t you have gone easy on them? You don’t even remember their face, can’t remember what the announcer said their name was, words drowned out by the buzz under your skin.

Metal crumples under your grip and you spare a half-second to mourn Suho’s dumpster before you slam your knuckles against it. It tingles, not even real pain, and you don’t hesitate to repeat it. By the time the metal is disfigured completely, a distorted mess of paint and steel and garbage, you still aren’t in pain, but there’s a sheen of gold across your knuckles and you feel less like you’re drowning and more like you’re suffocating. The usual. You can handle that. You think. 

You don’t even realize that you’ve slid down to the ground beside the dumpster until the back door of the bar opens and footsteps echo through the alley. You wish you knew how long you’ve been here, how long you’ve sat among empty bottles and stale beer and broken glass, but you can’t be sure. The brief reprieve brought by Taehyung’s voice is long gone, chased away by the guilt and rage that still sits heavy in your chest. You hope you’re not noticeable here, that whoever’s left will just pass by and leave you to piece yourself back together on your own. 

Voices tell you that it isn’t likely, the deep baritone of one too familiar to ignore. The other is new, but you’re familiar with the tone, the inflection, the intent behind it. You've heard it before, in crowded clubs as a guy pushes too close to some girl who can barely stand, in a coffeeshop when a random customer can't take a fucking hint, at the local campus when some professor insists that there could be maybe one thing her student could do to pass. It makes everything in you curdle, the bourbon from earlier threatening to work its way back up; it screams predator , and you absolutely refuse to let anyone fucking talk to someone like that, like they have some right to whatever it is they want. 

You refuse to let someone talk to him that way. 

"Seriously, Kratos, didn't I tell you to leave me alone? Did Aphrodite not teach you your lesson last time you harassed someone?" Taehyung's voice brings a calm that's an unsettling match to the anger washing over you. You're used to the red at the corners of your vision, the tint to everything you see, but you aren ' t used to the way it all turns purple and focused and clear . 

There's no haze this time, there's no abrupt shift of you moving before you know you've done it. You can feel the glass crunching under your boots with every step you take, can feel the way the air has a chill that creeps down into your lungs with every breath, can almost taste the apprehension that's rolling off of Taehyung despite his relaxed stance. The only thing that gives him away is the tense set of his jaw and the mix of relief and fear when his eyes land on you. 

"I'm pretty sure he said no, Kratos." The god turns at your voice and you watch the realization wash over him as he realizes what - who - you are. 

"Been a while since anyone's seen you, Ares." He scoffs a little, not moving from where he has Taehyung caged against the wall of the bar, one hand pressed firmly into the brick. He's entirely too close, and you have no doubt that the stench of him permeates the very oxygen around them. 

"Been busy. Doesn't change the fact that the man said no. Take the loss, walk away." Kratos' eyes narrow at your words and he steps away, but only to move closer to you. 

"Why do you care so much? You've never been one to care about any of us before." Kratos inches closer and the hyper-focus that Taehyung's voice causes starts to melt away with every twitch of your fingers. You've never liked Kratos, all brute strength with no respect for the challenge, no appreciation of the fight, too focused on sheer power and exhilaration. He is the worst of the worst of the worst of your kind, of all the war-focused gods. Every bit of yourself you hate is every piece that Kratos loves about himself. 

"I care that you don't seem to be able to understand when someone doesn't want to be around you, you absolute piece of filth. Taehyung had a point though, I really thought the whole thing with Aphrodite would've taught you how to back off. Or should I pull the video out, I think I still have it saved for when I need a good laugh." Malice and fury twitch across the other god's face and you absolute revel in it. You can feel his anger prickling across you, like needles in your very pores, and you ache for it. It's been so long since you last had a good fight, a real challenge where you didn't need to hold back at all. 

Too long since you fought a god like yourself.

"You're testing my patience, cousin," Kratos spits. It's a little generous to call the two of you cousins - you're several times removed, at best, and potentially closer than that with your family's warped history - but you let him have it. It might make him feel better. "I'm having a conversation, that's all. And if said conversation means that we end up back at my place, then, well, can anyone really blame me for what might happen to this pretty little m-"

Your fist connects with his jaw immediately and the red floods you for the few seconds it takes to register Taehyung calling your name. The calm struggles for a second, warring with the rage, but it wins out eventually. The singer's talking, but you can't make out any actual words. You're too focused on Kratos, the way he's righting and readying himself for a brawl. There's a fire in his eyes that matches the one in yours and everything in you feels alive for the first time in too long. 

This fight is different than your usual ones. There's no blur, no warped sense of time that usually comes with the adrenaline. You're focused and controlled in a way you haven't had to be for centuries, careful and precise and deliberate with every swing and every kick. The red seeps back in slowly and every time you think you're about to lose it, you hear Taehyung, still pressed against the wall of the bar. 

Kratos lunges at you for what has to be the tenth time, clearly trying his best to knock you to the ground - he succeeded, once; you let yourself get distracted, too caught up in thoughts, but it didn't last long - and you sidestep him just in time for him to ram into the ruined dumpster instead. He looks pissed when he turns back around and something in you sings at the sight. He makes for you again and you dodge again, only to be dragged back towards him by the grip he has on your jacket. Fuck, should've taken that off , whatever, he's too close.

Pain explodes in your side and you're fairly sure he's busted part of your rib, but you just slide your arms out of the sleeves and twist to plant your knee straight into his gut and then slam your heel down onto his much-less-safe toes, and then back up to knee him in the groin. It's nowhere near enough to take him out, but his nose is oozing golden ichor and he groans with every shift of his weight, and you've got him pinned against the wall with your forearm pressing hard into his windpipe. 

"Now, you're gonna listen to me you steaming pile of dog shit," You hiss. "When someone tells you no, it's not a fucking negotiation. It means you fucking leave and find someone with loose enough morals or enough internalized self-hatred that they're willing to subject themselves to your absolutely pitiful fucking excuse of an existence for the thirty-two seconds it'll take for you to get off." 

Kratos doesn't respond, just sneers and spits blood at you. It's a miracle you don't actually try to rip his head from his body, because the thought crosses your mind for a second too long. Instead, you just press harder against his windpipe and enjoy the choked gasp that it draws. 

"You don't stalk people either, the way you did with 'Dite. Don't you know it's better to let them come to you sometimes?" You tsk, ignoring the way he claws uselessly at your arm. Gods may not need to breathe, that's a fact, but they feel pain, and there is no way this isn't absolutely excruciating for him when even you can feel the small bones in his neck cracking and breaking. "And if I hear even a whisper of you pulling shit like this again, then I'm gonna find you, you pigshit. And when I do, I won't hold back even the slightest, and do you know what comes after that?" 

His eyes are full of fear now, and only grow wide with terror as you lean in close enough that he can feel your lips against his ear as you whisper. 

"You are going to wish that you could die." 

When you do release him, he disappears instantly, with a cloud of acrid grey-green smoke curling around your ichor-spattered boots. He's only been gone a second when you slump, the adrenaline fading as quick as Kratos had left. Your side is throbbing now, your knuckles are bruised and broken and gold, there's a pain in your leg that you aren't sure what's causing, your head is screaming even through the high of the fight, your face stings in the crisp-cool air. Every breath makes the pain worse so you stop breathing. The brick wall of the bar is rough against your palms, but it's the only thing around that can keep you upright, so you'll take it. 

"Well," a voice drawls from your left. You'd jump if you had anything left in you, but every ounce of energy is gone, spent teaching Kratos what Aretha Franklin meant when she sang about respect - and really, there was another fantastic singer, you really should visit her sometime soon - so instead your head lolls to the side. You aren't sure what it is that jolts through you when your eyes land on Taehyung, fingers curled carefully around the collar of-

Your jacket. That's your leather jacket. You barely remembers shrugging out of it, but you're glad it's not on the ground, trampled and covered in the gold spatters that decorate the rest of your body. 

"Well?" You echo, wincing at the pain it causes. You've definitely got a busted lip, that's for sure from the way it feels different and swollen, and you're pretty sure there's a head wound, too, because you don't remember there being a golden halo around Taehyung before the fight. 

"Well," He repeats, slinging the jacket - your jacket - over a shoulder. "You should get that looked at." He starts walking, making his way to the entrance of the alleyway. He gets halfway there before he stops and turns and cocks a brow. "Are you coming, or do I get to keep this?" Your jacket waves a little, as if he's wiggling it, and it makes you feel like a stray dog being lured off with treats. 

You're never going to tell anyone that it works.

Taehyung's place is as nondescript as the car he parks outside. It's a plain apartment building on the outside - looks like maybe it was a hotel back in the 1930s, based on the outdated carpeting in the lobby and the grate on the elevator he steps into. Even the hallway is plain and unassuming as he leads you to the end and uses an old, tarnished brass key on an older, more tarnished brass knob. You aren't sure what you expected, you can't even begin to guess what Taehyung is like outside of the dirty alley or the stage where he sings, can't fathom what kind of decor he could possibly have. 

What you step into isn't anything you could have guessed. It looks like he has the entire rest of the floor to himself based on what you can see, but there's also a spiral staircase tucked into a corner, bookshelves built in under each step that are filled to the brim, and a fireman's pole in another corner, so there's at least one more level above this, but something tells you both the staircase and the pole continue past that. There's artwork everywhere, pieces you recognize and pieces you don't, several van Goghs and a couple from Matisse and you think in the corner you spot an actual fucking da Vinci sketch that's supposed to be somewhere in Europe. There's a gramophone beside a top-of-the-line sound system, an entire wall that's just a record collection, books upon books, framed bits of poetry - including an actual hand-written rupi kaur, a signed Maya Angelou print, and a signed cover of ain't i a woman by bell hooks that you would die to know how Taehyung got his hands on. It's a museum's wet dream and yet it retains a lived in atmosphere. There are mugs left on tables, blankets strewn about as if someone just got up from a nap, an easel propped up by a far window with what looks like an impressionist painting of the cityscape, books tossed down half-read with receipts and coupons and candy wrappers and everything but a bookmark tucked between the pages. 

It feels like a home and it makes your heart flutter in your chest at the same time that something in your stomach shrivels up into itself. 

Taehyung walks like he’s meant to be followed, so follow you do. You spy another man - older, you think, but it’s hard to tell, really - sprawled across a couch, blanket splayed across his lap as he watches some kind of dance show on a flatscreen hung above a warm and roaring fireplace, a couple of girls in what looks to be the kitchen, one sitting on the counter while the other stands between her legs and pretends not to notice the former stealing strawberries from her bowl as she taps at her tablet, and there are footsteps creaking above you, hidden behind walls even as Taehyung leads you up the staircase. They all look up when you pass, but only the man gives you a second glance; his eyes are a weight on your back that doesn’t leave until you’re upstairs and following Taehyung into a large, rather nice bathroom. 

It’s vintage as well, but it’s spacious and well-kept, like the rest of the place. Taehyung pats the marble counter by the sink and you bite your tongue against the urge to tell him you aren’t a dog. You don’t move though, instead watching him as he lays your jacket across a brass bar on the wall and then digs around in a cabinet for a minute or two. When he straightens up, he’s got a somewhat dusty off-white box in his hands, and he frowns. 

“Up,” He says. “I need to look at your ankle.” 

You don’t move, but you can tell he doesn’t miss the twitch of your nose at the thought of being commanded like an animal. Like someone who can’t understand. Like-

He sighs. 

“Please, will you sit on the counter, so I can look at your ankle?” You huff, but you do as he says. 

He doesn’t speak as he works, completely silent except for the odd command - “Roll it for me...alright, now flex that...deep breath...stop fidgeting or I’ll only make it worse…” - and the occasional hum under his breath. It seems to be second nature, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, and it endears you more than you’d like. His touch is gentle but firm as he lightly squeezes your ankle and wraps it, lifts your pant leg to rub some kind of cream into a somewhat worrisome golden bruise forming on your calf, darts under your shirt to quickly and painlessly set your ribs before wrapping those as well. He doesn’t say anything at all until he’s almost finished with the cuts on your hands, golden ichor long gone and wounds already on their way to healing thanks to some sort of mist he spritzes on them. 

It only stings once, as he’s spraying something over some kind of cut on your thigh where Kratos ripped through the denim there without you noticing. You can’t stop the hiss as the pain hits, though you regret it when he glances up at you. 

“Sorry,” He mumbles under his breath as he dabs lightly at it with his long fingers. 

“It’s fine,” You tell him. “I’m used to it.” Your voice is rough, always, but softer than usual. You don’t know why. You can’t decide if you like it.

The entire time he works, you wait. For him to tell you it wasn’t necessary, that he can fight his own battles, that he’s not surprised a brute like yourself got into a fight, that you’re no more than what the rumours say you are. You’ve got a million different curses and insults ready to spit back at him when he finally speaks.

“Thank you,” is what comes. It shocks the words out of your mouth, and you actually look up from where you’ve been watching him methodically wipe gold away from a scrape on your forearm. His gaze is concentrated on the injury and his lips are pursed and you wish you could figure him out. 

He must take your silence for the confusion it is, because he continues. 

“I mean it,” He says. “I’m usually not someone that lets other people fight for me, but we both know that I couldn’t have taken Kratos. He’s too strong, and he was counting on that. Until you showed up.” You don’t respond. “Is there a reason you left before my set was done? Or why you were sitting in an alley beside what is possibly the most gnarled dumpster I’ve ever seen?”

You don’t answer him, instead focusing on the way his hands feel as they tilt your chin so he can look at the cuts and bruises and scrapes that decorate your face. You focus your gaze just past his shoulder, content to memorize the pattern of his gaudy vintage bathroom wallpaper, and he doesn't press for more. The distracted humming picks up again every time he stops talking, and eases the storm of guilt shame rage pain hurt grief loneliness in your chest. 

"I fight," you eventually say. Your voice is too loud in the quiet of the bathroom, shatters the silence like a sledgehammer, and you hate the way it trembles. Still, Taehyung doesn't look away from where he's carefully wiping gold from your skin, just cocks a brow, and it's as if a dam breaks in your throat. "Like, real fights. Actual competition, with rules and shit, and...sometimes the bad ones, because they tend to fight differently, it's a different kind of fight, y'know, and it's never really fair, because I'm...I'm me, but I hold back, just for fun, y'know, and it's, uh. It's alright usually, I go in, do my thing, I win, I go drink, and it all gets, I dunno, easier, maybe, for a while, like I can think right, but, um.”

You hesitate for a split second and force yourself to focus on the way the alcohol-soaked cotton tickles the cut on your head. 

“Sometimes it's not...sometimes I can't control it as well, the anger, and I kind of just lose it on people, and a while ago this guy, he almost needed his jaw wired shut, but he was kind of a prick anyway, I guess, so whatever, but, uh, today, I...there was this girl and she was doing really well, actually, y'know, managed to get me down to the mat, which is rare and pretty impressive, and I'm pretty proud of her for it now, but then, I just. I just kinda lost it, like, I just kept swinging, I couldn't stop, and then I just...I broke her leg, for no real reason, just because I wanted her to hurt, and I don't...I'm not sure why I even did it, because I'd already won, right, like what was the point of doing any more, it wasn't even helping at that point, y'know, it's not like the buzz kept up any longer because I broke this kid's leg, and I love the fights, they help clear my head for a second, but I never wanted to actually-"

You words stop short, like there are too many of them to say in too short a time, and it's then you realize Taehyung's hands are in his lap and he's looking at you fully. His expression isn't neutral anymore, it's not the carefully crafted mask of a performer, it's real and open and genuine and all you see there is pain . For you. Pain and understanding and compassion you never expected to find anywhere but the deepest corners of your soul. Looking at him looking at you like that makes you feel like you can breathe again.

"You never wanted to hurt anyone." His voice is rough, like maybe there's emotion clogging his throat as well, and you aren't sure what that does to you, but something in you jumps at the thought.

Tears mar your vision as you nod and you curse under your breath before wiping them away. He catches your quivering hand in his and just holds it for a second. His eyes don't leave yours and there are a thousand things you expect him to say but what he says is: 

"I believe you."

And that...it's more than you can take, and you break, right there on his bathroom counter, sobbing into his chest while he just rubs your back and hums and you remember the face of every person you've ever hurt and the look in their eyes as you left some of them for dead. 

You wake up the next morning curled up on the most comfortable chaise lounge in human history, sitting up and shoving the blanket off of you in a rush before you remember where you are, why you're there. A glance around tells you that you aren't alone; there's two guys bent over a table that you think might also be a tablet, conversing quietly and pointing every so often at whatever they're looking at, a girl balanced along the edge of the staircase holding a lyre - which, wow, you haven't seen a lyre in that good condition in a while - and strumming lightly along it before she frowns and shakes her head and restarts whatever melody she's playing, and the same guy sprawled over the couch with a blanket strewn haphazardly over him while he watches a different dance video on the flatscreen. He's the closest and you don't really want to talk to any of these people but you think you might have to because you aren't really sure how Taehyung got you here last night but you know it was quite a drive. You'd just mist over to the bar if you really wanted to, but your ribs hurt like a bitch still thanks to that fucker Kratos. Anything as intense as misting is out of the question for the time being.

The man on the chaise spares you a glance that feels longer than it should, full of a judgement you have no doubt you deserve and yet somehow fires your anger anyway. 

He rolls his eyes before you even say anything and waves a hand towards the kitchen. You snap your mouth closed and shoot him an irritated look, but you storm in that direction anyway. Healing is exhausting, and you want nothing more than some meat to tear into and a cold beer. 

When you get into the kitchen, however, Taehyung is standing there already, as if he’s been expecting you any minute. There’s a plate in front of him, full of food you barely recognize, and he slides it towards you. 

“Eat,” He says. You grit your teeth, unmoving, and he sighs again. “Please sit, and eat. You need the strength to heal properly.” 

You resist for a split second, but there’s a softness to him now. Something you can’t exactly put your finger on, but that you know is different , somehow, and it changes things. It makes you want to listen, to do as he asks, because he is asking . He’s not telling, he’s treating you like an animal. 

It’s a request, not a demand, and that makes all the difference. 

Taehyung is quiet while you eat. He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t watch to make sure you’re doing it, but you have no doubt he’s keeping an eye on you. It’s quiet, but not unbearably so; the air is broken by the sounds of the lyre and the television, as well as the soft chattering of the men at the table. It makes it comfortable, makes it soft in a way you’re unaccustomed to being, like the way people talk about lazy Sunday mornings or that voice they get when they see a cute animal.

It feels like home should be, instead of what yours is. 

“So why’s Pretty Boy giving me the death glare?” You eventually ask past a mouthful of food. Taehyung barely looks up, just glancing past you to the guy laying on the couch. You can feel his eyes boring into your spine, but it’s nothing new. 

“Taemin’s just protective,” Taehyung says softly. “Especially considering the stories.”

“The ones about me, you mean.”

A myriad of emotions passes through his eyes when he nods, and you wish you could more easily decipher them. Maybe in time, you will. 

Maybe.

“Those, yes,” He says softly. “But he’ll learn.” He doesn’t say it, but nonetheless, you hear the words as clear as day. Just like I did.  

Someone hums behind you and you glance over to see a woman - the strawberry thief - making her way into the kitchen. She gives Taehyung a look you don’t care enough to figure out, and they have an entire conversation in the span of five minutes. Something about it irks you, and it only gets worse when they start moving around each other, Taehyung handing her things without her asking. 

It’s ridiculous, and you know it, but the air gets heavy in your lungs and your head starts to swim and suddenly you’re suffocating. It’s too much, there’s too much here, and you can’t take it anymore. 

The force with which you shove away the counter would have slammed it into the wall were it not already attached. There are slight cracks in the granite tops, though, and there’s just enough clarity as Taehyung calls your name for you to feel guilty about it. It’s not enough to stop you though; you have to get out, you need to get out, before you do something worse, and the cracks in the granite are proof of that. 

You’re out the door in an instant, your form coalescing painfully back into solid matter as you reach the hallway. Your ribs ache, screaming with the effort of trying to mist away from this place, this home , and you lean against the wall in the hope that it will help steady you. 

The door opens behind you, the creak of the old hinges deafening in the silence of the hall. There’s a commotion behind it, voices overlapping each other and reverberating in your skull until they’re a twisted mockery of your siblings. 

You stumble down the hall, one hand clutching your ribs to keep them as still as possible despite your movement. It’s not lost on you that there are footsteps following you, but you can’t focus on them now. You’re not moving fast, and you need to be, you should be running , but you can’t. Your vision is already clouding slightly at the edges, the sudden spike of adrenaline waning now that you’re out of the apartment. 

Someone says your name and you swing. 

It’s instinct, the way your fist flies through the air; you can’t control it, not this, not when the red is all you can see even as it seeps away and turns lilac. It doesn’t matter anyway. You don’t make contact with anything but the wall, plaster crumbling around your fist and onto the carpeted floor. 

“That was rude,” Taehyung says softly. He doesn’t sound mad, though he should, considering you almost decked him straight in the nose. “I’ll take you back.”

He drapes your jacket over your arm and walks away, toward emergency stairs tucked into the corner instead of the elevator, and you follow. He hums as he goes, and he lets you lead the way down the stairs, keeping pace with your quick steps until both of you step out a side door into an alleyway. 

Out of habit, more than anything, you light a cigarette and put it between your lips. You don’t miss the disgusted scrunch of Taehyung’s nose, but you do ignore it. The smoke is familiar in lungs, comforting, and he doesn’t understand it, won’t ever understand it, but he doesn’t have to. 

“Sorry, Tae,” You say after a few minutes of silence. Taehyung shrugs one shoulder and moves to lean beside you against the stone of the building. 

“Are you okay now?” You nod, taking a deep breath, remembering how Hestia had taught you, so long ago, how her hand felt against your chest, the warmth and love it held. “Then you’re forgiven. And you can call me Calliope, if you want.”

You’re both quiet after that. He doesn’t make fun of you, he doesn’t judge you, he just silently drives you back to Suho’s bar, which is when you remember that he doesn’t know where you live. You’re fine with it; you don’t want to see him in your run down hovel. It’s not much, especially compared to his own apartment, but that makes sense, too. 

What could ever live up to the home of a Muse? Not even a muse, really. The Muse. The Head of the Nine Muses, the one called on most often by those in need, the one that everyone knew, the one that Hephaestus just put statues of in the gardens of Olympus, according to the rumors that Apollo sent you. 

The calm that he brings lasts until you get back to your apartment, nearly ten full minutes after you disappear into the alley beside Suho’s bar. It’s the longest the calm has ever lasted, and the view of the city tinted lavender is one you think you love. 

If you can love. 

Things get clearer, somehow. The weight on your shoulders lessens, makes you feel less like Atlas and more like you, how you were all those years ago in the now-ancient days when things made sense. When people fought for honor and glory and justice more than they fought for oil and death and greed. 

It could be because open mic nights are frequent around the city, and you’re able to figure out his schedule pretty well. You don’t go every night that he sings, just when it gets to be too much, when the scarlet haze starts to bleed into your irises like a flag in front of a bull. It helps, for a while, lets you settle long enough to pull the pieces of you back into a shape that vaguely resembles yourself. 

It could be because the fights happen every night, and Taehyung is no stranger to where to look to find them. He watches every one that he can, when he isn’t singing, and his presence anchors you. Focuses you, so that you can pull your punches just enough, so that there’s less hurting and more fighting. It doesn’t work every time, you still lose yourself in the rage and do more damage than you ever mean to, but it helps enough. And when it doesn’t, he’s there, to slide a hand across your shoulders in that exact same way that Hestia used to, that Apollo might if you let him close enough to know you’re alive, that Artemis would , were she anywhere but where she is. 

It’s a strange feeling. You’re not used to companionship, you don’t know how to have friends. You still say the wrong things and do the wrong things and he still speaks to you like he expects to be listened to, but you both are learning. You apologize more often, and he corrects himself quicker. It’s a slow, fragile thing, this friendship, but it’s there. 

Until the night when it’s not. 

You aren’t sure how it happens. It’s been weeks since you last saw Taehyung; he mentioned some project he was working on, something or another that would have most of his attention along with that of several of the other Muses. You had brushed it off when he said it, some snide remark about how you don’t need him there to win. 

You would take it back if you could. 

Because you were right, of course, you don’t need him there to win; you can do that on your own. And your control has gotten better, stronger, over the last few months, but complacency is what always leads to disaster. 

The guy deserved it, is what you tell yourself as you’re pulled out of the ring. He was a piece of shit anyway, you remind yourself as you call Apollo with shaking hands. He didn’t deserve your mercy, you tell the golden gold after you’ve begged him to help save the man’s life. Artemis would have done the same, you insist to him, long after he’s hung up the phone and left to follow the ambulance to the hospital. 

You don’t go to Suho’s. You can’t bear it, not when he might be there, not when he would read it on your face in a heartbeat. You don’t want to watch the disappointment crumble into something more familiar, something worse, you can’t watch him look at you with the knowledge that your siblings are right, that they’ve always been right, that you’re nothing better than a crazed animal. 

The club is packed full when you get there. The bartender starts to pour you a drink and you just take the bottle, leaving a too-thick wad of bills in return. The bourbon tickles as it goes down but it warms your stomach and distracts you from the haze in your mind, the repetitive beat of they were right they were right they were right they were-

“Whoops, sorry,” someone says, a second before they knock into your shoulder. You’ve been around long enough to know a fake fall, and you scowl as you glance towards them. 

He’s cute. Taller than you, with skin that would hide the marks you so love to create, and hair that looks like it would be soft in your hands. His clothes fit well, and they look like they were chosen for comfort over style despite the way he walks like a model in them, which you always find attractive. 

The smile that slips onto your face is familiar, as is the way you bring your hand up to rest on his hip in an effort to steady him. 

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” You tell him, not being subtle in the way you eye him. He looks soft; you love them soft. “You headed to get a drink?”

“I might be,” He says teasingly, a coy grin forming on his lips. 

“I’ve got something better, if you’re interested.”

His eyes roam along your body, his breath drawing somewhat quicker when he notices the scrapes on your knuckles. “I might be.”

It takes five minutes to get him to a corner quiet enough to talk. Less than three to get your lips on his. One and a half to start sucking a mark into his neck that makes him moan so pretty you can’t help but want to hear it again. 

One of your hands is up his shirt, playing with the pebbled buds and the metal pierced through them, while the other teasingly massages the skin of his hip when he’s torn away from you roughly. 

“What the fuck?” Your voice growls as you look up. The guy is standing there, looking for all the world like he’s ready to run, but he isn’t watching you. 

No, his eyes are on a familiar sight; Taehyung, his hair now a pretty lavender that makes you think of a home you don’t have, even as he doesn’t look at you. 

“Taken,” He growls, releasing the collar of the guy you had every intent to make cry with pleasure. The guy scurries off before you can stop him, though, and you don’t bother to hide your disdain. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” You demand, already lighting a cigarette as you head outside. Taehyung follows, pulling it from between your lips and crushing it in his hands before you have the chance to get your lighter out.

“Me? You looked like you were about to eat him .” He follows you all the way to the street outside and down the sidewalk, pulling each cigarette out of your hands before you can light it. He waits until you’re a decent distance from the crowd outside the club before he stops you, one hand lightly encircling your wrist. 

Your boots scuff against the ground as you stop, not turning to look at him. You’re too afraid to, too worried he’ll see it all on your face and just know that you’ve fucked up, maybe beyond repair. 

“Apollo called me,” is what he says instead. “Said I might want to find you tonight.”

You should’ve known. That little fuck, of course he would rat you out. 

“I didn’t-” 

The words choke in your throat. You want to say you don’t need him. You don’t need him to come running like you’re some scared little girl who can’t control her strength, you don’t need him to piece you back together because you aren’t broken, you don’t need him because you don’t need anyone, you never have. 

“I know you didn’t,” Taehyung says quietly. “I know he deserved it, I know what he did, and I know you didn’t mean to.”

Something inside of you breaks and you find yourself shaking. 

“He hurt her , Tae, I heard it, I heard her telling her friend about it on the phone, I saw her crying, I saw her clothes, okay, he-”

“I know,” Taehyung says, pulling you into a loose hug. “I know you did, it’s okay. He’s going to be okay. He’s not gonna escape his punishment from that, you didn’t send anyone to Hades today. It’s okay.”

The cloud struggles, for what feels like hours. Guilt settles like lead in your stomach, and you wish you weren’t so used to the feeling. The rage returns every time you remember what that girl looked like, what she sounded like on the phone, how you felt when you realized it was your competitor who had done that to her. 

There’s no honor in that. There’s no justice, no glory, in beating an opponent who was never aware they were in the ring, and it makes your blood boil all over again. Taehyung’s voice soothes you, slightly, makes the edges of your vision turn indigo, but it isn’t enough. 

It’s never enough. 

“I have to go,” You say, pulling yourself away from him. “I need- I have to find-”

“A distraction,” He finishes for you, too aware that you can’t find the words you need. “Some mortal that you can bruise and break and bang until you feel less like a monster?”

That’s exactly what you want to do, what you had been about to do with that guy at the club, and it’s only Taehyung’s voice calling your name in that soft, sweet way of his that makes you wonder if that’s not a good plan. 

“I’ll be a distraction, if you need one.” You whip your head around, staring at him, but he doesn’t flinch. “I’m sturdier than the mortals, I can take more. Let me be your distraction.”

“I…” You hesitate. You don’t know why. You shouldn’t even be entertaining this idea, it’s not a good one, but then...when have any of your ideas been good? “I can’t fuck in a house with eight other people.”

“You have an apartment,” He says easily. “Let’s go there.”

It’s a bad idea. You don’t do that, you don’t fuck people at your apartment, you don’t have people in your apartment, it’s your space. It’s a bad idea, it can only end in disaster. 

“Okay.”

Taehyung’s lips are soft against yours, yielding and pliant just the way you’re used to. His hands are big and warm against your ass, even through your jeans, and the feeling gives you the courage to slide your own under the ridiculously patterned button-down he’s wearing. 

He lets you lead the way through the door, kicking it closed behind you with slightly too much force. Your apartment is small, a studio with a bed tucked in the corner for the rare times that you need it. 

You push Taehyung onto it and slide yourself onto his lap, already grinding down onto the hard length you can feel there. He's not quite as enthusiastic, but his fingers are like steel against you, pulling you down with every rut of your hips. 

This, you can do. This, you're familiar with. 

You push on his shoulders, doing your best to get him on his back so you can have better access to the clasp of his jeans, but he resists. You try again, firmer, using a harsh suck against his skin as a distraction, but he still doesn't go. 

Frustrated, you pull back. 

"Not like this," He says. His voice clears some of the fog, and you frown. 

"Do you want to be on top, then? Because I don't mind, I just need it," You tell him. He sighs a little, but he flips the two of you over so he's kneeling between your open legs and your back is cushioned against the mattress. 

"How long has it been since you spent the night with someone who knows who you are?" He asks, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he sits back on his knees. 

You shift, uncomfortable. "A while. Why does that matter? Just fuck me."

"No," Taehyung says, voice gentle but firm. You cock a brow at him and move to get out from under him, but he stills you with a hand on your thigh. 

"You are a goddess," He tells you, trailing his hands down so he can undo the laces on your steel-toe boots and slide them off. "You have held Victory in your palms and set her free." 

His palms burn through the denim on your thighs, but you welcome it as he slides your jacket over your shoulders to the bed beneath. 

"You are the winner of wars. You are the one who grants battlefield wishes. You are the dead's escort to Hades." He leans down, pressing a soft kiss against your cheek and then down your throat. 

He pulls back as he gets to your collarbone, eyes blown wide with unfamiliar desire, and it makes your breath catch in your throat.

"You," Taehyung tells you, with desire in his eyes and belief in his voice, "Deserve to be treated like the goddess that you are, with the respect you have earned, and the care you deserve." 

As often as you fuck people, it's been a very long time since anyone wanted to fuck you for any reason beyond your appearance and the personality you show them. But this? This look in the muse's eyes as his hands settle on your knees as he waits? 

Taehyung wants to fuck you because you're you. Not despite it, not because he doesn't know . He has seen you at your worst and yet he keeps coming back, keeps showing up as you fall apart. Each time he stays, hands you a basket so you can pick the pieces of yourself up off the ground, holds the tape so you can mash it back together, and is ready to help steady you when you start to crumble again. 

He's here for you , to treat you in a way no one has ever treated you before. He's your friend.

He cares.

You nod, however tentatively, and his lips are on yours in an instant. They're firmer now, less pliable and more controlling, but you don't mind. Not this time. 

Not with Taehyung. 

His hands don't hesitate as he strips you both of your clothes, but you can feel it each time he checks to make sure you're okay. The way that he watches your expression, the tense of your muscles under him, the cadence of your gasps for air between kisses, he reads all of it as clear as if it's a book in front of him. He slows down before you can stop him, his lips drawing back from the kisses he draws across your thighs, and he speeds up as your thoughts start to drift, swiping his tongue and two fingers through your folds to tease and bring your attention back to him. 

His fingers bury themselves in your heat, crooking slightly to brush against that soft part of you that makes the world spin, and it's all too intense. His lips are hardly even touching your skin, just pressing gentle kisses against the skin of your thigh, a gentle complement to the way he glides his fingers in and out of you, slow and steady and delicious, but it's absolutely intoxicating. 

He's talkative, too; he gives you constant praise. He tells you how well you take his fingers, how good you look with his fingers inside you, how absolutely fantastic you taste on his tongue, how he'd live between your thighs if he could. 

It's too much, and you can't be sure why, not when your orgasm is approaching quicker than it ever has, not when your walls clench around him and you soak your sheets, not when he's cleaning your cum off his fingers with his tongue.

"Good," He purrs. "Now you're all warmed up." 

His mouth hits your heat without hesitation or warning, before the aftershocks are even finished, and your hips buck upwards. His arms slide underneath your thighs only to grip them and bring them back down. You can't move much in his grip except to grind your pussy against his mouth, which he seems to enjoy, if the muffled grunts that escape him are any indication.

He doesn't stop until his tongue is buried inside you with one finger drawing lazy circles on your clit and you're cumming again, hands gripping the soft strands of his hair so tight that you would be afraid of pulling it out if you could focus on anything besides the feel of him against you.

He lets you ride the aftershock, this time. Waits until your pants die down slightly, until you're back in your mind. 

"Good?" He asks you. His voice is deeper, rumbles instead of slides, but it breaks through the post-orgasm haze long enough for you to nod. “More?”

“More,” you agree, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders and pulling him into a heated kiss. You haven’t been this clear-headed in a while. Every sensation is clear and crisp, every sound heightened, everything is simultaneously more while also being exactly what it’s always supposed to have been. 

Taehyung’s cock is everything you could have expected from a muse; thick, long, beautiful, and it fills you in a way that’s indescribable as he slides inside. He groans at the feeling, deep and throaty and beautiful, and begins his thrusts nearly immediately. 

It’s as slow as he was with his fingers; steady and forceful, but unhurried. As if he wants to take his time. As if he wants to savor it. Savor you . 

“Do you have any idea how amazing you are?” He mutters, almost as an afterthought. “What you look like right now, what you look like when you’re fighting, when you’ve won and you’re triumphant? It’s fucking addictive, seeing that confidence in you.”

“Shit, Tae, don’t stop-”

“It’s so fucking intoxicating,” He groans, pace quickening. Your arms wrap around him more fully, nails like claws down his back as you arch your back to get him deeper. “You get this look in your eyes, like you can do anything you fucking want to, and it’s so fucking brilliant, because you can , you can do anything and everything you ever fucking want to do, and no one can stop you.”

A whine you’ll never admit to escapes your throat, and Taehyung drives his cock further into you. 

“Let go, my sweet,” Taehyung purrs in your ear. “Let yourself relax, just this once. For me.”

His hand touches your clit and it’s so much, too much , you’re feeling everything so intensely that it takes a solid minute to realize you’re coming down from an orgasm. Taehyung has stilled inside you, unmoving but groaning as you flutter around him, and you push weakly at his shoulder. 

He slides himself out of you, looking entirely too proud of wet spot underneath you and glistening against his lower stomach. You wobble your way up to rest your elbows underneath you, and it’s like he can sense your words before they come. 

“No,” He says simply. “I don’t you to get me off with your mouth.”

“A hand then? I don’t want you to leave unsatisfied.” 

A frown pulls at the corner of his mouth, and he leans down just enough that your lips are almost touching, a not-there kiss that you can only wish for. 

“In what world is fucking you to the point of Elysium unsatisfying?”

The crowd around you is deafening; some of them are cheering for you, but the majority are rooting for your downfall. Such is the life of a challenging the champion, you suppose. 

You don’t know how Taehyung found this place; maybe Artemis had heard rumors, or maybe he searched for it himself. You can’t bring yourself to care, not when you’ve got someone worth fighting on the other side of the arena. 

The sand crunches beneath your feet. It’s hot, hotter than it should be since you’re still wearing your signature jeans and boots - without the jacket this time. You learned from that mistake. 

Your vision tints pink as you size up your opponent; he’s massive, not one to be easily defeated, and you relish the challenge. It’s been so long since you’ve fought a giant. Excitement thrums under your veins as he turns to you. He scoffs. 

If you had a little less control, you might be flying across the arena already. He clearly has no idea who’s standing across from him. Probably thinks you’re some demigod, come to challenge him for the fleece he isn’t supposed to have. 

He’ll learn. 

Something moves in the distance. It should blend in, considering how dark it is, but instead it draws your eye, and you don’t even question why. You would recognize him anywhere, have recognized him everywhere, and his presence calms you. Makes you remember a few nights ago, falling into bed in a hotel in Rome because the burn was to much and you needed him to help you release it. 

“Try not to be too quick, princess,” The giant across from you huffs. You cock a brow and send a look to your muse, who just rolls his eyes, despite the smile playing across his face. 

Violet rings your vision as you ready your stance. The announcer yells something that’s lost over the noise of the crowd. Taehyung leans forward, elbows on his knees, excitement and pride in his eyes. 

The giant swings. 

#ficswithluv #smutcentralnet #btswriterscollective #ksmutclub #95linenet #taehyung fanfic #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #v fanfic #v smut #v fluff #v angst #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #greek god au #ddaengtan #s: mag

[rahleeyah]

Fic Interview Meme

Tagged by @idoltina thank you friend 😘

Name: rahleeyah (this has been my name for a decade I am never changing it)

Fandoms I write (or have written) for: Spooks, The Doctor Blake Mysteries, City Homicide, SVU, the Closer back in ye olde days, dabbled in a few others

Two-Shot: I am also confused by this question lmao since the next one is "most popular multi chapter" I am going to answer with my most popular one/two shot. By Ao3 hits/comments/kudos it's Stubborn Love (I am excluding Changes bc it's 3 chapters).

Most popular multi-chapter: using hits/comments/kudos, the winner is Hell of a View, but I gotta give a shout-out to Long Way Down coming in second on comments when there's about 25 people total in that fandom, love you Blake fam, thank you for embracing madam Jean 🥰

Actual worst part of writing: ok I have to agree with you, it's transitions. I am so guilty of starting a scene about ten minutes earlier than it needs to, and trying to walk people through every single step of the character's days, so that's something I'm actively working on, trimming the transition from point a to point b. Also, smut is a close second; I love writing smut. I love having written smut. But it takes me twice as long as anything else and I inevitably end up just grinding out three words at a time, swearing.

How you choose your titles: there is absolutely zero rhyme or reason to my process. Maybe it's a song I liked that day. Maybe it's a popular idiom that suits (I will always be proud of the pun in A Will and a Way). For one shots I tend to use shorter, snappier titles that have some vague bearing on the theme of the piece but sometimes it's a stretch and I'm just trying to put something down so I can post the damn thing.

Do you outline: sometimes, kinda. Some fics don't need an outline, I know where they're going. Sometimes I do bullet point lists of things that need to happen; with Collision Course, for example, timing was vital as we were switching between past and present and they had to match up at certain points, so I had a list of things that I wanted to happen and tweaked it as I went, as necessary. For long fics (I frequently write 30+ chapters) I will also usually have a doc to refer to with birthdays and dates of important events; the doc I made for A Messy Kind of Love is my Blake bible to this day.

Ideas I probably won't get around to but would be nice: ok I don't have any that I don't think I'm gonna write. They all exist in equal possibility, like I'd like to get to all of them eventually. But the ones that'll take the longest to get to are: selkie Jean, Blake beauty and the beast AU, and madam Liv. Actually that's not true I'll probably get to madam Liv before I get to benverse. But I'm a changeable creature.

Best writing habits: routine!!!! This is the answer every time someone asks how I write fics that are so long, or how they go up so fast. There are things we can do to trick our brains into performing, they just need the right environment. Like, in college I only did homework in the library or in a classroom after hours, bc my brain recognized that we were in A Place Designated For Work, and I could stay on task much longer there than in my room, bc my room was A Place To Relax. Carve out a time, or a space, or a series of environmental triggers and recreate them over and over and your brain will learn to focus and write under those conditions. Everybody's life and schedule is different, but if you can find A Place That Is Just For Writing, it will help.

Spicy opinions: I hate first person pov. If a fic starts with "I", I will almost immediately back out of it. It has to be shockingly good for me to read it (I am thinking of the massive Malcolm pov spooks fic). Second person is marginally less unappealing to me but again it has to be really remarkable for me to carry on with it. I don't like fluff fics. Like "the gang goes to the beach and shenanigans ensue!" They are great and they should be written and there are people who wanna read them just not me. And that's fine!! Bc not every fic is for every reader and that's the point; there is such a variety of interests and passions in fandom and there is something for everyone and if you don't like what's in front of you, you close it and go to the next one.

Tagging: @gabolange @andallthatmishigas @doctoraliceharvey and anyone else who sees and wants to play

[cross-d-a]

Pass the happy!💖 When you get this, reply with 5 things that make you happy and send this to the last 10 people in your notifications!

(I have decided that Discord notifs count because I love you dearly and wanna hear what makes you happy)

HELLO!!!! I love you and I kinda really needed this and I think you know that so thank you!!!!! I love and appreciate you SO MUCH!!

Also I've literally been thinking about this post for two hours and so I'm not gonna stick to just five- I'm gonna list MORE than that because I wanna remind myself that there are many wonderful things in the world to be happy about and also PICS!! I'm adding PICS bc I CAN!!!!!!!!!

under the cut bc it gets LONG! :)

1) YOU make me happy, Sierra!!!!!!! Also @s1utspeare and @vishcount and of course my bff @haru-tl !!! You guys are so fucking incredible and talented and AMAZING!!!! I love you all SO MUCH!!! You always make my day!!! And all the dmbj peeps!!! I am so lucky to know so many wonderful people!!!!

2) as long as we're on the subject of people- I absolutely can't leave out my coworkers!!! Literally some of the best people I've ever met in my life. I have so much fun with them. I can always count on them making me laugh.

Like today, we were talking about this reptile house a few towns away and my manager was telling us about their cool anaconda exhibit where you can crawl under the glass tank and watch them eat and she mentioned their teeth being scary. So I googled Anaconda Teeth and went WOAH THEY'RE COOL and our Resident Snake Expert came over and went actually that pic is from the movie Anaconda. And then he helped me find Real Pics and the teeth were even COOLER. I left the Google search up on the work computer and a couple hours when I was on lunch I heard Mike exclaim: "I had NO idea that ANACONDAS had TEETH!!!!!!" Which?? MIKE?? WHAT??? Hahaha everyone burst into laughter :)

3) my cat BOOTS makes me happy!! He's always asking for belly scritches and he drools when he's happy. Here's a pic bc I adore him:

4) my new baby boy So Mun from The Uncanny Counter makes me VERY happy!!!!! He's just- the Sweetest Boy to have ever Baby'd!!! I adore his little crinkly-eyed smile and curly hair!!! He's just so GOOD it makes me cry!! Also!! Disabled rep!!!!! LOVE HIM!!!!! Look at his lil' FACE:

and bc he is Unfortunately Very Hot in his mourning outfit:

adding this too bc LOOK AT THAT ADORABLE SMILE I wanna SCREAM

5) my Pangzi necklace makes me happy!!! I have an Iron Triangle matching set, but the Pangzi one I first put on bc of Brigid's Pangzi chapter for Swiftly Tilting and then I kinda just- never took it off haha. It's just so pretty and makes me feel like I've got a bit of Pangzi with me at all times. I love that man SO much and if I can be even a fraction of how wonderful he is, then I can die happy

6) the smell of the sea makes me happy!!! It makes me feel refreshed and relaxed! I live by Puget Sound and on very lucky days I can smell it at my house! Tonight was a lucky night! I came home and it smelled like the seashore, so I kept my window open as I folded laundry :)

7) my new collection of Kpop CDs makes me happy!! It's entirely bc of Vish's influence and I LOVE her for it!!! The packaging is just so pretty and I always love being able to hold things that give me Good Feelings in my hands :)

8) since we're on the subject of COLLECTIONS, I love to collect things!! And one collection of things that makes me happy are my books!! I have- too many. Working in a bookstore makes it too easy to buy them! But seeing the bright spines on my shelves gives me delight. I particularly really like my queer manga collection!! I've got four whole shelves of it! :) I'd offer a pic but I'm too tired to go upstairs, haha but I love the art and the representation 🌈

9) I ALSO really love all the figures I collect! Seeing characters that I love on a daily basis makes me happy. I usually decorate my bookshelves with them. One set that makes me particularly happy are my Pingxie ones. They look like they're getting married and it delights me:

10) another purchase that is entirely bc of Vish (I ADORE you!!) is my Chimmy blanket!! He's just so adorable and bright and coming home every day to see him waiting on my bed makes me very happy

11) yet another bright yellow thing that makes me happy is my dmbj Xiao Ge coaster!! It's so sparkly and fun AND it's a friendship coaster I share with Sierra!! We've got a matching set, babe!! I love you!! Let's just shake them around and be distracted by the sparkles forever!!

12) coming back to work from my weekend to find a bunch of manga to shelve always makes me very happy!!! Buying/pricing/shelving manga is my favourite thing to do at work! I love seeing familiar and new titles!

And it's interesting to see how prices can change if it goes out of print! Sometimes every single book in a series but ONE is the same price. Like last month we had a series where like/ volume 8 was worth $250 vs the regular $7.99 for the rest of them. And someone BOUGHT IT!! Things like that can happen randomly. It can be bc it was a smaller printing for that particular volume. OR something special happens in it (new character appearance/fan favourite story arc/BOOBS), so more ppl want to keep it which means it's harder to come by (and then sellers raise their prices BC it's difficult to come by). You usually see the collectible value go up for out of print BL or older series like Aria or Lupin III. Not everything that's out of print is collectible, but it's always interesting when it is :)

13) DAY6's The Book of Us: Gravity has graciously given me a big serotonin boost the last couple days!! It's just- I dunno! Uplifting! Catchy! Full of energy! :)

14) similarly, I've been listening to Close Your Eyes by Isaac Hong almost exclusively for like- five days now! It's from The Uncanny Counter and it makes me very happy! It's very emotional and just reminds me of my baby boy So Mun :)

15) sunshine makes me happy!! I'm at that point in the year where I don't want rain anymore, just sun! So it's always nice having my windows open at home with the sun shining through. Or the back doors at work propped open while we go about our day. It's almost impossible to feel sad when you get to bask in the warmth of the sun and smell the nice fresh air

16) finding weird random books at work makes me happy! It's so fun seeing the kinds of things people read! And sometimes you find cool ephemera in the things people sell to us that they don't want back. Like- look at this pic from an older fortune-telling birthday book I found. She is 1000% Drowning Him and I love that for her :)

17) reading manga makes me happy. There are just so many wonderful and ridiculous series out there. There really is nothing "too weird to publish" in the manga world. I was reminded of this the other day when I discovered a series about a girl who timetravels and finds out that her soulmate is a Neanderthal. You can literally find a series about ANYTHING in the manga world and I love that about it. There's no limit to the imagination and there's something for everyone :)

18) when I'm in the mood, writing and drawing make me happy. There's just something about creating that really just- fills the soul :)

19) making playlists makes me happy!! I love having playlists for characters and relationships and fics and even specific fic chapters or moods or going to sleep! (And rec playlists! Like Vish's :) ) It's just- so satisfying having the Perfect Playlist on hand! Plus it's fun actually making them- like figuring out the mood/lyrics and what they fit into :) I listen to music almost constantly, so this is essential! :)

So thank you Sierra!! It was nice to remind myself about a lot of different things that bring joy to my life!! I love and adore you SO MUCH 💖💖💖

#cross talks #ask #ask game #kinda????????? #good stuff

[hanaasbananas]

30 Questions About Me

Thanks for the tag, @lightkeykid !

1. Name: Hanaa

2. Gender: Female

3. Star Sign: Aquarius

4. Height: 5'0" (to my everlasting chagrin)

5. Time: 1.03 am

6. Birthday: 29th January (i'm 23 this month??? wtf???)

7. Favourite Band/Group: McFly (surprise surprise. I never shut up about them lmao), The Lumineers, Fort Hope, PVRIS

8. Favourite Solo Artists: Taylor Swift, Atif Aslam, Arijit Singh, Riz Ahmed ( his album The Long Goodbye is SO GOOD)

9. Song stuck in my head: This years Love, David Gray

10. Last Movie: Howl's Moving Castle

11. Last Show: Umbrella Academy

12. When did I create this blog: February 2013, apparently. Wow.

13. What do I post: Literally anything. I have no system AT ALL

14: Last thing I googled: UCAS postgrad deadline

15. Other blogs: Nope. Wait no oh god this just reminded me of the time I wanted a blog but didn't know what tumblr was so I made this. Sigh. Also that website I made for a uni assignment in one of my creative writing modules where we had to make an author site or whatever. I can't even remember what that site is called.

16. Do I get asks: More now that I joined the Miraculous Writers Guild and made friends lol which is always fun. I love getting asks about my fics which has only happened a couple times but I always have to resist the urge to gush in my responses

17. Why I chose this URL: Just something my uncles called me when I was a kid and it's easy to remember

18. Following: 302

19. Followers: 442

20. Average hours of sleep: uh, I'd say I get around 5 hours in one go? idk my sleep schedule is whack so I usually go to sleep at 2 and then get up at 7 to pray, then go back to sleep until 10 so I get around 9 hours I guess.

21. Lucky number: I don't think I have one tbh

22. Instruments: I don't play anything but the first thing that came to my mind was harmonica so I'm sticking with it

23. What am i wearing: long sleeve sleep shirt and purple fleece pajama pants

24. Dream job: Author!

25. Dream Trip: I'd lOVE to go to Italy or Greece just to see all the historical sites. OR go on a eurail trip and go to all the places from DDLJ

26. Favourite Food: Aloo paratha, bhindi salan, lasagna

27. Nationality: British Pakistani

28. Favourite Songs: oooh, SO MANY let's see. She falls Asleep part 2/Down Goes Another One by McFly (I love this narrative bc the latter song was from the next album and from the POV of the guy mentioned in she falls asleep, a year later), Broken Crown Mumford and Sons, Plans, We are the Gods (Heritage), Dios Falso,Fort Hope, Change on the Rise, Avi Kaplan, Hey Brother, Avicii, Brother, Kodaline, Aaja, Swet Shop Boys, Deewangi, Sahir Ali Bagga,Tum Hi Ho, Yaar Berozgaar , Mere Rashke Qamar and honestly so many more lmao

29. Last book I read: Chime, by Franny Billingsley

30. Top Three fictional universes I'd like to live in: Storybrooke from OUAT-seems a pretty nice place if you're not a main character lol. ATLA and the Six of Crows/Grisha universe. I'd probably get robbed by Kaz in Ketterdam though bc I'm a little dumb. Maybe Ravka?

This was fun! I tag @theladyfae @apopcornkernel @omnishamblegreg @deinde-prandium @2manyfandoms2count and @sukker-sugar

#get to know me #ask game #i ramble a lot lol oops

[mallowstep]

nursery things

when do queens move into the nursery?

also it is very important to me that kits call their parents by their names

this lost all formatting when i pasted it but i need to sleep in literally three mintues enjoy

gestation

cats have a gestation period of about 2 months. for the sake of cat ease, we'll say they think of it as a full season, but obviously they don't know if they're pregnant until as little as a moon before they give birth. this is not factually what is occuring, it's what they think, because that means kits become apprentices at nine moons, a holy number.

anyway, cats will show at three weeks to an experienced eye. at four weeks, they'll have a bit of morning sickness. by five weeks, they'll be able to feel the kits development. so that's uh, about 5 weeks before they give birth?

i'm really bad at math i'm sorry.

after that, they're going to grow rapidly and become unfit for patrols fairly quickly. i'm trying to construct a timeline for the fourth apprentice and the poppyfrost drama, but if berrynose knew poppyfrost's kits were coming, he probably had a point.

i mean, she didn't have to move into the nursery, that was overzealous, and she had some time before she couldn't serve as a warrior, but pregnant queens are not exactly mobile.

like mate. she's not going anywhere.

queen madness

i've talked about this a lot and i'm kind of rushing to get this out bc i have a midterm tomorrow so i'm going to bed in 15 minutes regardless of whether or not i post/queue something but i don't want to cheat by uploading allegiances for something i wasn't planning on writing allegiances for (plus those always take me forever) and fuck i'm getting to the point

look. i've talked a lot about this and i don't have anything new to say.

queens. they get overprotective.

frankly, squilf refusing to take young kits back to camp and them hiding under her tail is a fucking trope in my fic.

i don't even know how that's possible, and yet.

fading

so there's this cat equivalent of sids (sudden infant death syndrome) where young (feral) kits just kind of...don't live.

it's also pretty similar to what's called "failure to thrive"

anyway all of these things are interesting go look them up (sad tho be forewarned, also re. failure to thrive lots of very unethical decisions.)

but anyway, i've introduced this concept as fading for several reasons.

one, it explains the vanishing kits problem.

two, it explains why so many kits die despite having socialized medicine with around 95-99% cure rates.

three, it's a good folklore thing. like, queens are scared of this. they're anxious about it. especially in leaf-bare. it adds a good bit of filler drama and all that.

four, more cat biology accuracy.

anyway, this is marked by a kit failing to grow properly. there's nothing wrong with them, they just...never "get on board."

i'm not digging it out now but i have a quote somewhere that's basically "well, she's quiet and calm, but she's growing, so i don't think she's going to die in her sleep."

anyway, this is basically my merciful catchall for kit death. sue me, that's one of my lines.

(but wait, i hear you say, didn't you literally write a fic involving neonaticide and neonaticannabalism? i made that word up i can't spell for shit tho. well, yes, however, those are not character kits, they are plot devices, and you know it. so it doesn't cross the line. i didn't give them personalities for a reason.)

so yeah. okay 10 minutes left and two more sections i can do this.

birthdays (birth days)

heh no one fucking cares.

about, like, the human concept of a birth day.

no, so queens will know they're going to kit soon up to a week beforehand. hazy sources, i'm sorry, provide on request.

again i'm rushin.

right anyway so queens are pretty Aware as you will, and so there's plenty of time to prep the nursery. or other location. that's fairly common in green-leaf, but the clan works real hard to avoid it in the other seasons because it's significantly riskier.

but anyway, a separate kitting nest is provided, and because these are near human levels of intelligence, the cats don't have problems figuring shit out. the other kits are cleared out to the elders den for as many as three nights (kitting can take up to 40 hours), and it's usually the queen's wish to spend a night w her mate. (a) because parents and (b) because safety instincts.

(also as an only vaguely unrelated side, i've recommended "the minor fall, the major life" before and i can't say too much now because i don't have 15 minutes to reread the whole thing i read 1k words a minute and type 100 words a minute how do you think i publish so much but there's some funny? i think it's funny stuff where redtail is all "you know it's kind of concerning how willowpelt keeps having children with no clear father")

and uh, yeah. queens usually track their kits birth to the nearest whole or half moon depending on the clan. there's usually a transitional day ceremony and a mid season ceremony, kits are done when the queens decide they're mature, usually erring over six moons, but on occasion, erring under.

as far as i'm concerned, cinder/bracken/thorn/bright situations never happen. i never remember the four of them are littermates because of that.

moving on i have like 1 minute fuck i forgot i need to brush my teeth

kinship terms

i've already started work on a separate piece for this but.

kits call everyone by their name. they might stumble over it, and those become nicknames, the way young kids do, but please remove every instance of a kit calling "mama" and replace it with either a generic meow or their mother's name.

this is important to me. it just doesn't make sense for the clan to do this, imo, because we see no other terms to refer to people, not even a father term. kits canonically call their fathers by their name (skyclan and the stranger.) anyway i'll talk more about this later i'm out of time.

conclusion

love u bye <3

#q #mine #txt #1st #April #2021 #April 1st 2021 #cloudtail's daughter #jaywing #dovefeather #warriors #warrior cats #warriors worldbuilding #warriors culture #warriors au #essay #long