#Oh how cruel things have turned out to be

[burrowkit]

I'm feeling a tad bored, so I'm going to apply this to 4 characters from the Blood of Eden series by Julie Kagawa.

1- What does your character do when they think no one’s looking Allie: Reading a book Zeke: Reading The Bible/sleeping Jackal: I would like to think he secretly reads books when no one is watching. Conducts science experiments. Kanin: Looking for a cure to the virus he accidentally released

2- What’s the one thing your character would save in a fire (beyond the necessities)? Allie: Zeke Zeke: Allie Jackal: Himself Kanin: Everything

3- Who’s on speed dial? Allie: Zeke, Jackal Zeke: Allie Jackal: Azura, secretly Allie Kanin: No one

4- Your character gets turned down for their dream job. What’s their second choice? N/A

5- What would they tell their ten-year-old self? Allie: You will get through this. Just keep going, you can do it. Zeke: Eden exists. And, you'll fall in love with a vampire. Jackal: You're going to become a monster and love it. Kanin: I cannot remember being 10.

6- Where would they want to go on a first date? Allie: A library/bookstore (abandoned, as they all are in their universe) Zeke: Some adorable boat ride with a picnic. Maybe to find a new place. Would end up saving humans before the date is over, forgetting that it's supposed to be a date. Jackal: Nah. Maybe some blood sport event or killing rabids. Kanin: N/A

7- What’s the best advice they’ve ever received? Allie: Something something you aren't facing your grief and just burying it. You will kill people, you just need to figure out a way to live with it. Zeke: You're a monster. Decide what kind of monster you want to be, but just make a decision. Jackal: (in the books that we know of) You do know your raiders are just going to back stab you, right? Kanin: I guess in book, Allie's pep talk in the sewers

8- What’s the worst advice they’ve ever received? Allie: You're a monster, you just need to accept that. Zeke: All vampires are evil, soulless creatures that don't care about humans Jackal: To leave the group Kanin: To trust Jackal's words and intentions

9- What’s one physical detail they’d change about themselves? N/A, I'm not answering this one

10- When was the last time they were held? By who? Allie: Well, Sarren tried to kill me. So did my brother. Oh, you mean like hugged? Cuddled? Zeke. Zeke: Allie <3 Jackal: You don't want to know. Kanin: It's been awhile, Allison. Do not linger in the past.

11- What’s their favorite thing about their favorite season? N/A, I'm pretty sure Zeke would like summer/fall for the food on trees. I don't think Allie really cares much, other than not freezing (which she can't anymore). And Jackal seems too disconnected to really care. Okay, adding Kanin to this, I don't think he really cares.

12- Their wallet gets stolen. What do they do? Allie, Jackal: Kill the person who stole their wallet/stuff Zeke: Offers the thief food, water, medicine. Kanin: Takes his wallet back, probably finds a way to make the human have a better life

13- Prioritize: Love, money, power, knowledge? Allie: Life. Knowledge. Love. Zeke: The human race being okay. Love. Jackal: Power. (Familial) love. Already seems to possess a lot of knowledge to become powerful. Kanin: Knowledge of how to undo. Has power. Tossed love out the window. Money doesn't really apply in this world

14- What’s something nobody knows about them? Allie: Is allowing herself to forget about being human Zeke: Maybe how jealous he was of Jackal until he found out Allie and Jackal were siblings? Jackal: Has a heart Kanin: He cares about all his children. All of them

15- What’s in their fridge? Blood.

16- What (creature, object, substance) are they most disgusted by? Allie: Rabids, vampires (especially ones torturing humans/being cruel to humans) Zeke: Evil vampires, Sarren, himself Jackal: Bleeding heart vampires, sewage Kanin: Vampires viewing humans as nothing but food (even though he does the same).

17- What’s their second worst habit? Second worst? Alright... Allie: Worst is trying to save everyone. So I guess forgetting the world for Zeke? Or opposite. Worst habit is forgetting the world for Zeke, and second worst is trying to save everyone at the cost of her own life. Zeke: Worst is probably his self hatred / hatred of vampires. Second worst is his desire to stay attached to specific humans / revenge without knowing Jackal's side Jackal: His worst habit is probably his love of killing those that are important to others. So his second worst is probably killing randomly/being so detached. Kanin: His worst is probably putting human kind above his family. His second worst is probably thinking he knows everything.

18- What are the victory conditions for their life? Yeah, maybe best if I skip this one

19- In the end, your character fails to save the day. Assuming they survive, what do they do? Allie: Fall apart, go for revenge, pull herself together, save the day Zeke: N/A. Probably is kidnapped by the villain. Jackal: Pretends to betray everyone just to betray the betrayal and save everyone. Kanin: Picks himself up, tries again.

20- Your character is charged with a crime they didn’t commit. What do they do? Allie: Accept it. Pretend to leave. Protect the humans. Zeke: Allie argues his innocence. He just hangs his head and accepts that he's probably the villain they think of him. Jackal: "Lol, I'm a monster, so?", proceeds to kill anyone in his way Kanin: Accept it. He feels like he deserves it.

21- Your character is charged with a crime they did commit. What was the crime? Murder.

22-25- How would you describe your character’s life in one sentence?What important statistic would they want displayed above them?What’s the first thing they would buy if they won the lottery? What profession do they most respect? N/A

26- What childhood injustice did they never get over? Allie: Being left to starve. Her mother's death. Zeke: Not able to face a hoard of rabids and save everyone. Jackal: Not so much childhood, but almost being killed by his vampiric father Kanin: N/A

27-35- How would they handle having a panic attack? Your character is burdened with an inconvenient superpower. What is it? If they died and could come back as any person, animal, or object, what would they be? What’s the best meal they’ve ever had? Where would they stand at a dinner party? Who would they invite to the dinner party?What makes a perfect day for your character? If given the opportunity, would they want to know how and when they died?What’s the one thing they’ve always wanted to do? Why haven’t they done it yet? Mostly N/A, or already covered in the book

36- What do they tend to joke about? Allie: Being a monster. Not being a monster. Zeke: Not much Jackal: Killing others. Betraying others. Being a cruel monster. Kanin: Not much. He left his sense of humour behind centuries ago.

37- What’s off limits? Allie: Someone dying Zeke: Harming humans Jackal: Being predictable Kanin: His past.

38- Whose wedding would they cross the world to attend? Whose funeral? Allie: Wedding- Jackal's if he decided to get married. Maybe Azura. Caleb and Beth's. Funeral- Caleb. Beth. Jackal. Zeke: Wedding- none. Funeral- Jackal, but he'd be the one killing Jackal so... awkward funeral. Jackal: "My sister" Kanin: N/A. Probably Sarren's funeral. Maybe Allie-x-Zeke's wedding. Allie, Jackal and Zeke's funerals. Possibly Jackal, but he'd ensure no one knew he was there.

39-43- What impossible choice did they make that turned out to be the right one? The wrong one? Your character has someone to hype them up. What would they say to get everyone excited about your character? What recurring dream does your character have? What is the meaning of life to your character? What book does your character pretend to have read? Skipping

44- Someone takes undeserved credit for your character’s work. What do they do? I don't think they really care too much. Jackal might try to kill whoever stole the credit, or remind them of the shared credit (to his sister). Kanin would probably not care too much.

45- What controversial belief or view does your character hold? Why? Do they hide it? Allie: Humans do matter. Doesn't hide it. Zeke: His love for a vampire at the beginning. His love of blood at the end. Jackal/Kanin: I'm not sure.

46- Your character is at a theme park. Where do they go first? N/A

47- What’s your character’s favorite name? Discussed in the books

48-50- What’s the biggest compliment they’d give themselves? How does your character feel about bugs? If your character could hit a reset button on their life, would they? N/A

Character Development: 50 Questions

What does your character do when they think no one’s looking?

What’s the one thing your character would save in a fire (beyond the necessities)?

Who’s on speed dial?

Your character gets turned down for their dream job. What’s their second choice?

What would they tell their ten-year-old self?

Where would they want to go on a first date?

What’s the best advice they’ve ever received?

What’s the worst advice they’ve ever received?

What’s one physical detail they’d change about themselves?

When was the last time they were held? By who?

What’s their favorite thing about their favorite season?

Their wallet gets stolen. What do they do?

Prioritize: Love, money, power, knowledge?

What’s something nobody knows about them?

What’s in their fridge?

What (creature, object, substance) are they most disgusted by?

What’s their second worst habit?

What are the victory conditions for their life?

In the end, your character fails to save the day. Assuming they survive, what do they do?

Your character is charged with a crime they didn’t commit. What do they do?

Your character is charged with a crime they did commit. What was the crime?

How would you describe your character’s life in one sentence?

What important statistic would they want displayed above them?

What’s the first thing they would buy if they won the lottery?

What profession do they most respect?

What childhood injustice did they never get over?

How would they handle having a panic attack?

Your character is burdened with an inconvenient superpower. What is it?

If they died and could come back as any person, animal, or object, what would they be?

What’s the best meal they’ve ever had?

Where would they stand at a dinner party?

Who would they invite to the dinner party?

What makes a perfect day for your character?

If given the opportunity, would they want to know how and when they died?

What’s the one thing they’ve always wanted to do? Why haven’t they done it yet?

What do they tend to joke about?

What’s off limits?

Whose wedding would they cross the world to attend? Whose funeral?

What impossible choice did they make that turned out to be the right one? The wrong one?

Your character has someone to hype them up. What would they say to get everyone excited about your character?

What recurring dream does your character have?

What is the meaning of life to your character?

What book does your character pretend to have read?

Someone takes undeserved credit for your character’s work. What do they do?

What controversial belief or view does your character hold? Why? Do they hide it?

Your character is at a theme park. Where do they go first?

What’s your character’s favorite name?

What’s the biggest compliment they’d give themselves?

How does your character feel about bugs?

If your character could hit a reset button on their life, would they?

Source

[thesacrificialdove]

𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐘, 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 1.8k words puppy boy hybrid x gn!reader — ko-fi | patreon | masterlist | inbox | taglist | home | req. & comms

tags hybrid puppy, breeding kink, knotting, master kink, humping

—📜" As much as you wish that owning a pup is easy, it’s not. You’re going to end up with a headache, missing clothes, and an aching hole at the end of the day. His rut is approaching and—oh dear, this is going to be bad.

When people tell you to get a pup, they don't tell you about the horrid responsibilities you have to go through. 

It's always: 'They're such sweet things! You will always feel loved', 'Very loyal boys and girls', 'It's always going to be a joy around the house', and 'You have to be prepared to give them a lot of love. Ha. Ha. Ha.'

They don't tell you about the burden of actually having a pup.

"Fucking—Atlas! Drop that right now!"

Atlas, your newest pup, is bigger than your average pup. He's also a lot more handful than you imagined. A German Shepherd hybrid is often rare to come across in normal companion shops. Most are already taken by some older chap who wants some protection.

This one appeared at your doorstep. Now, he's currently running around your house with your socks in his mouth.

You groan, almost unable to keep up with him, "What is with you? Why're you so goddamn hyper?"

He tries to say something, though his words are muffled by the pair in his mouth. His tail wags behind him enthusiastically as you continue to miss him when you attempt a tackle.

Fastening out the living room, you try to keep up. "Atlas! Down boy!" He ignores you as he keeps manoeuvring inside your house. He ends up in the storage room, and you corner him there.

When you expect him to cower with nowhere to go, something else catches your attention. Atlas is rushing towards the corner behind some boxes. You peer; he has his old mattress covered in a cloud of your clothes.

"Fucking hell, Atlas," you sigh, "what is this?"

He looks at you like he has nothing to say. "What is what?"

"This? I thought I lost my sweatshirt, but—god, your fur is all over my pants!"

An unbothered look is plastered on his face. He sits on the pile of clothes happily before you start pulling them away.

Rushing, he goes after your cruel hand to take away your clothes. "Hey! That's mine!"

"No, it's not," you snatch your fucking underwear from the pile, "this is all mine, and I'm putting them all in the laundry."

"But what am I supposed to do if you're gone~?" he falls to his back and rolls around. His arms spread to cover all the clothes he could. He's too protective of your dirty clothes and you need to take them away now.

"Guard the house," you say. You kneel down on the mattress, tugging for the shirts. "Seriously, I would guess you're a retriever if I didn't see your papers."

He huffs. "Don't compare me with those sons of bitches." Atlas sits up, defeated. All of his work disappears into your arms. "I'm way better than all of them."

"Yeah, yeah." You need to come back to get the rest. With a grunt, you stand up and take them to the laundry room.

An extra pair of steps follows you there. Surprisingly, you turn to see that he's carrying the leftover clothes. "How nice of you to help for once," you say. "Just separate the whites, okay?"

The two of you fix your laundry. His tail sits low between his legs, a shy blush accompanying his downward ears. He's looking at your clothes like it's his arm—taken away forcefully by some evil monster. Which is you, by the way.

Overcome by his puppy looks, you throw a sweater in his direction. "Keep it," you say, "but if you take any more, I'm making you sleep outside."

He yips excitedly, cuddling the sweater by his chest as he's come alive again. That fucking easy to make this silly pup happy.

"Thank you so much~!" he giggles as he hugs you from behind. Seriously, is he a retriever? Atlas embraces you tight, pulling your body as close as possible to rid the distance between you.

You ignore him as you put your underwear away. "Yeah, yeah. You're welcome, pup."

"My master is the best," he cooes, head nuzzling to your neck. His ears tickles.

Pulling away is impossible. He tightens his grip as he moves the both of you back and forth. "Absolutely the best," he says, his tongue licking under your ear and to your nape.

Suddenly, his innocent movements are not so innocent anymore.

"Y-yeah. Just let me down, Atlas." His embrace starts to become little humps. "Atlas!"

"Master," he breathes out, teeth feathering over your skin. "A-ah… I love Master's scent so bad," he giggles, loopy.

"Good for you, Atlas," with a rough hand, you attempt to pull away. It ends with him whining and pinning you down to the washing machine. "Fucking hell, Atlas..!"

For a fact, you know that his rut is nowhere near. You were planning to neuter him for your safety, and now he's grinding needily on your clothed cheeks. You struggle against his strength. All he does is disapprove of your rejections.

When he growls, it's your time to scold him. "Atlas," you harden your tone, "fix your attitude."

A pained whimper leaves him. Immediately, he backs away. Turning around, you can see his hardon through his shorts.

"S-sorry," he says, pulling down his shirt to try to have some decency. "Master, I'm just really happy to have something of yours. I'm getting really excited."

You can tell. "Yeah, but I'm busy doing laundry right now. Now I got more clothes to wash because of you. See my dilemma?"

For a split second, you can see his cock twitch in his trousers. You sigh. "Sorry," he says, "Can I… fuck, can I just maybe hump you? Please, Master? I'll be so careful."

One thing that they were right about pup boys is that they're needy. And that they're good at giving you those stupid puppy eyes everyone is irresistible to. You feel yourself giving into his whims.

"Fine," you say. His eyes light up like fireworks. "Don't get too carried away. I'm still sore from last night."

Last night: getting stuck on his knot for an hour before having to calm him down when you pull away.

Atlas is back to his excited self as he mounts you from behind. Thankfully, you've placed most of your clothes back in the machines now. He pulls down your shorts, spitting on his hand as he rubs your hole—Jesus.

"Be careful," you hiss, gripping the ends of the washing machine. "Seriously, I'm sore.

"Don't worry," he smiles. "I'll take care of my Master~"

Red rises to your face. Somehow, he makes the simplest thing sound so sexual. You try not to let it sink in but he keeps mumbling your name as he fingers you open.

"So open for me, Master," he moans, rubbing your insides and scissoring you open. He's breathing into your neck and his cock is pressed against your thighs.

The height difference between the two of you is making the angle a bit awkward. He pulls you up so one of your knees lays on top of the vibrating top of the laundry machine. He's breathing hard, turned on just watching your hole clench around his fingers.

A breathy laugh leaves him. "Mmph… I'm sorry, Master. I need to be inside you now—"

"Wait!"

You're not sure when he undressed himself. But he has a leg up as he fucks his cock inside of you. A guttural moan leaves you, overwhelmed by the sudden stretch. Though your body remembers his shape, you're still too sensitive for this.

"Master," he moans, panting as his tongue tickles your neck. "S-so good… You feel so good around me, Master. I wish you could feel it~!"

He puts both of your hands on your stomach, making you feel the little bulge in your stomach. His long pup cock is thick, reaching deep inside of you with the base of his knot already forming. He's too excited and you're sure he's in his rut.

Atlas fucks his cock deep inside of you. He tries to slow his movements as much as possible. Yet, you can feel him whimper and whine as he struggles to keep a tame pace. His mouth is dropped open as he pushes his cock as deep as possible—he has a need to imprint inside of you.

"Atlas," you breathe out, clenching around him. "Just fuck me already, pup. Breed me with your big fat knot."

Your words are immediate. If you could look back, you would see his ears perk up and his tail wag excitedly. Taking your word, he ruts inside of you as if his goal is to put a baby inside of you.

"Yes! Th-… thank you, Master!" he moans, hips slapping lewdly against your ass. "So fucking good, Master. I love it—hahh… I love your sloppy hole so much. S-sucking me in like you want to be bred by me~"

He's manic as he puts a hand on your hips. "So good, so good, so good, so~… good!"

You want to lay your head down. Each thrust hits you deep inside; it rubs against your sweet spot. You feel yourself go crazy as he doesn't care for your own pleasure. He's chasing his own climax, and it makes you clench around him in desperation.

"Maste-e-e-r," he drags out, burying his head in between your head and your neck. "Puppy wants to breed master so bad. Wanna—wanna see you round with puppy's seed. S-so good."

"Breed me, pup," you cry, whining as he's basically only grinding inside of you. You can feel his knot start to attempt to push in. "Get inside of me, pup. Let me have your seed."

"Ah, ah, ah~!" He screams as his knot spreads open your hole—it pushes inside and he's quivering. Your oversensitive hole is being stretched to its last extent. You can barely feel your legs as he's grinding his knot inside.

"So good," he moans. You can feel drool going down your shoulders. "M-master… I'm gonna cum. 'm gonna cum. Puppy's gonna cum inside ofMaster. Gonna-gonna fucking breed Masta-haaah..!"

Waves of his hot cum surges inside you. He's holding you tight; attempting to fill you to the brim, he doesn't let you leave his knot. You're left hanging there to take all of him. When he thrusts inside of you unexpectedly, you can't help the spurt of cum that comes out of you.

He feels you tighten more and groans. "S-so tight," he whines, wiggling his lips as if that would help. "Mmph. Master, you're so nice."

If you were in a better mindset, you would be criticising him. Saying that your compliance is his fault. Instead, you just lay there and take it.

A few minutes in, the haze leaves you and realisation punches you. "You little shit, your knot is gonna be in me for an hour!"

"…I think I'm going into rut, Master. I'll- er… I'll maybe last an hour or more."

"Atlas!"

Owning a pup boy is way too much work. You briefly consider giving him away to some adoption centre. Though he's too attached now, and you might find him back at your doorstep.

UPDATE ! 📢 @wiltedpoison @elloredef @alureasoley

do not redistrubute this work as yours/without permission or feed to AI 📷 art by @ shu_TMX

[chxrrywxvss]

Do I Look Like Him

“You look so much like him, and it’s almost cruel. I keep hoping that somehow, you’ll turn into the man I loved, but you never do. You’re just… you.."

A/N: First part of my Do I Look Like Him series. Sorry this is so rushed pookies but I swear the next part will be better

Logan Howlett x Afab!Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: none I think, maybe logan is OOC

NOT PROOFREAD.

Logan stepped through the door of Wade's apartment. The air inside was thick with the scent of stale pizza and something that might have once been a burrito.  He hesitated for a moment, the noise from the TV filling the silence—some superhero flick, loud and chaotic. The place was a mess, as expected, but it was oddly comforting.

He’d been through hell and back in his own universe, but this? This was something else entirely. The walls were plastered with posters of himself—no, not himself, but Wolverine. The absurdity of it made him grit his teeth. This wasn’t his world, and yet, here he was, dragged into a mess that wasn’t his to clean.

Wade had a knack for trouble, and Logan had been foolish enough to follow him into it. After their recent escapades—fighting off some half-baked villains and dealing with Wade’s incessant chatter—Logan felt the dull throb of a headache creeping in. He needed a drink. Or ten.

He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the tension knotting there. His world had turned upside down, and it had only been a few days since he found himself in this bizarre universe.

“Hey, peanut! You’re late!” Wade’s voice rang out, full of that irritating cheerfulness that grated on Logan’s nerves. Logan glanced up, catching sight of Wade lounging on the couch, a bowl of popcorn in his lap, his mask pulled up just enough to reveal that crooked grin.

“Didn’t realize I was on a schedule,” Logan muttered, his tone heavy with annoyance. He didn’t need this. Not now. Not after everything that had happened back home.

“Yeah, well, you missed the best part! They just killed off a major character!” Wade’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “You know how it goes—death, resurrection, all that jazz. Just like you!”

Logan rolled his eyes. “You’re not helping, Wade.”

“Aw, come on!” Wade jumped up, tossing the popcorn aside. “You’re in a new universe! Live a little! Have some fun! Get laid!” He winked, and Logan rolled his eyes at the thought.

Logan didn’t respond. Instead, he moved deeper into the cluttered apartment, scanning the area for something—anything—that would give him a moment of reprieve from Wade’s relentless energy. That’s when he noticed a photo frame atop a pile of comic books. A picture of a woman smiled back at him, hugging a man who looked like him, but more aged.

His heart sank.

“Who’s that?” Logan asked, trying to appear uninterested.

“Oh, that’s your girl! Well, sort of,” Wade replied, his tone shifting slightly. “She’s also my sister. Well, half.. Anyway, she’s amazing!”

Logan’s fists clenched at his sides. “What do you mean, my girl? I don’t—”

“Right! Sorry! I forgot! You’re from a different universe! It’s confusing, I know.” Wade smirked, clearly enjoying the chaos of it all. “But trust me, she’s the best. I mean, if you’re into that whole ‘living’ thing. You are, right?”

“Where is she?” Logan asked, keeping his voice steady.

“She’s around here somewhere. Probably avoiding you,” Wade chuckled, but there was a hint of sincerity in his tone. “She’s been a bit… skittish since you showed up. Can’t blame her, though. You know how it is with family drama.”

Before he could respond, the sound of footsteps echoed from a hallway, and Logan’s breath caught in his throat. You appeared, your presence radiating an energy that was both familiar and foreign.

“Wade, I—” you began, your voice faltering as your eyes landed on Logan..

“Look who I found! It’s Logan!” Wade announced, clearly oblivious to the charged atmosphere that had enveloped the room.

Your expression shifted, confusion and recognition battling for dominance. “No, that- that isn’t him. That’s not Logan.” You said, your voice trembling slightly as hot tears began to well in your eyes at the sight of this stranger wearing Logan’s face.

“Well, technically-” Wade began to explain, but you stormed back down the hall, slamming the door to your room. After a moment of silence, “Well, that went well!” “Shut the hell up, Wade.” —-----------------------------------------------------

The days slipped by in a blur of muted colors and half-formed conversations. Logan found himself wandering the apartment, the walls echoing with the laughter and chaos of Wade’s universe. You avoid him like the plague, slipping through the apartment like a ghost. It was as if you had cast a spell of invisibility around yourself, one that Logan was helpless to penetrate.

Wade, ever the optimist, tried to coax you down for meals, suggesting movie nights, or even just a simple game of cards. But you never came down. Instead, you found excuses to stay away, disappearing into the city, leaving Logan alone with his thoughts. Each time you left, he felt the weight of her absence like a physical blow.

He tried to give you space, respecting your need to process everything, but it gnawed at him. The ache in his chest grew heavier with each passing day. He was a man used to fighting battles, but this was a different kind of warfare—one fought in silence and solitude. He doesn’t know why it bugs him so much. It shouldn’t. He doesn’t know you. It’s probably just sympathy. Right?

When you did venture down, it was always under the cover of darkness, as if you feared the light would expose your vulnerabilities. Logan would catch glimpses of you, a fleeting shadow slipping past the kitchen door, or the sound of your laughter echoing from somewhere beyond his reach. Each time, his heart would leap, only to plummet when you vanished again.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of fiery orange and deepening blue, you finally emerged. Logan had been sitting on the couch, his mind a chaotic swirl of thoughts, when he heard the soft creak of the floorboards. He looked up, his breath catching in his throat as he saw you standing in the doorway, a hesitant silhouette against the dim light of the hallway.

“Hey,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady despite the sudden rush of emotions.

“Hey,” you replied, your eyes darting away, avoiding his gaze. There was a tension in the air, thick and palpable, as if they were two strangers in a crowded room. Which, the first part isn’t entirely wrong.

Logan took a breath, willing himself to be patient. “I was thinking about ordering some food. Want to join?”

“I… I can’t,” you stammered, yout voice barely above a whisper. “I have plans.”

Disappointment washed over him, but he forced a nod. “Alright. Maybe another time?”

“Maybe,” you said, your eyes lingering on him for just a moment before you turned to leave.

“Wait,” he called out, desperation creeping into his voice. “Can we just talk for a minute? Please?”

You hesitated, your hand hovering over the door frame as if caught in a battle between flight and fight. Finally, you sighed and stepped back into the room, though your body language screamed of discomfort.

“What do you want to talk about?” you asked, folding your arms tightly across your chest.

Logan searched for the right words, the ones that could bridge the chasm between them. “I just… I don’t want you to feel like you have to avoid me. I know this is hard for you.”

“It’s not just hard,” you shot back, your voice rising with hurt. “It’s impossible. You look like him, you sound like him, but you’re not him!”

“I know I’m not,” Logan said, his tone earnest. “I’m not him and I never will be. You need to accept that he’s gone.”

You looked away, your expression twisting with pain. “I don’t know how to do that.”

“I understand. Just take it one step at a time.”

“Like you’re doing?” you asked, your voice laced with sarcasm.

Logan winced. “Touché. I’m just trying to be honest.”

The silence that followed felt heavy, a dense fog of unspoken words and unresolved emotions. He watched you, noting the way your fingers fidgeted, the way your eyes glistened as you fought against the tide of your feelings.

“Okay,” you said finally, your voice softer. “I’ll try.”

“Thank you,” he replied, relief flooding through him. “That’s all I can ask.”

But just as hope began to take root, you turned to leave again. “I really can’t stay, Logan. I have to go.”

“Wait!” he called out again, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “What are you doing out there? What’s out there that’s better than being here?”

You paused, your back to him, and for a moment, he thought you might turn around. “It’s not about what’s out there. It’s about what’s in here,” you said.

With that, you slipped out of the room, leaving Logan alone once more, a hollow ache gnawing at his insides.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Days turned into weeks, and the pattern continued. You would occasionally come down, but their conversations remained brief, filled with awkward silences and unfulfilled glances. Every time you spoke to him, it was a delicate dance—one misstep, and you would retreat again, leaving him with nothing but the echoes of your presence.

One afternoon, as the sun cast a warm glow through the apartment, you wandered into the kitchen while Logan was cleaning up after lunch. He caught sight of you out of the corner of his eye, and hope fluttered in his chest.

“Hey,” he said, looking up.

“Hey,” you replied, your voice soft but guarded. You moved to the fridge, rummaging through it as if searching for something to distract yourself.

“You want a sandwich?” he offered. “I made some earlier.”

“No, I’m fine,” you said too quickly, closing the fridge door with a soft thud.

Logan felt the familiar pang of disappointment. “You sure? It’s really good.”

“I believe you,” you responded, her tone clipped.

They fell into an uneasy silence, the air thick with words left unspoken. Logan watched her, the way you fidgeted with your hair, the way your gaze darted around the room, avoiding him.

“Do you ever think about him?” he asked suddenly, the question slipping from his lips before he could stop it.

Your body stiffened, and for a moment, he thought you might walk away again. Instead, you turned to face him, your eyes glistening with emotion. “All the time,”you admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“What do you remember?” Logan asked, leaning against the counter, trying to keep his voice casual. But inside, he felt like he was walking on a tightrope, balancing on the edge of your memories.

“Everything,” you replied, your eyes shimmering as if lost in a distant past. “The way he would hold me when I was scared. The stupid jokes he made to lighten the mood. The way he fought for me.”

Logan swallowed hard, the sting of your words cutting deep. “I’m not him,” he reminded her, his voice low.

“I know,” you said, frustration breaking through your sadness. “But it’s hard to separate the two of you. You’re so similar, and yet… you’re not.”

“I’m trying to be someone you can lean on,” he said, his heart aching with the weight of her pain. “But I can’t do that if you keep pushing me away.”

Your eyes flashed with anger. “You think you can just step in and fill that void? Be the one who makes everything better? It doesn’t work that way, Logan!”

“I’m not trying to replace him,” he countered, his voice rising in defense. “I just want to be here for you. Just give me a chance!”

You sighed, the fight draining from you. “I don’t know how. I don’t know if I can.”

“Then let’s start small,” Logan suggested, his tone softening. “Just talk to me. About anything. About your day. About anything but him.”

For a moment, your gaze dropped, and he could see the struggle within you. “Okay,” you finally said, your voice trembling slightly. “I can try that.”

“Good,” he replied, relief flooding through him once more. “What did you do today?”

You hesitated, then shrugged. “I walked around the city.”

“Did you find anything interesting?”

You looked away, a faint heat creeping into your cheeks. “I found a little café. It had the best pastries. I thought about bringing some back, but…”

“But?”

“It felt wrong,” you murmured, your voice barely a whisper. “Like I was trying to pretend everything was okay when it’s not.”

Logan’s heart ached for you. “You can still enjoy things. It doesn’t mean you’re forgetting him. It just means you’re living.” He said, more to himself than you.

“I don’t want to live without him,” you admitted, yourr voice breaking. “I don’t know how to do that.”

“Maybe we can figure it out together,” he offered, stepping closer, his heart racing. “I may not be him, but I’m still here. And I care about you.”

You met his gaze, and for a fleeting moment, he thought he saw a flicker of understanding in your eyes. “I care about you too,” you said softly, though doubt lingered in her tone.

As you turned to leave, Logan felt a glimmer of hope that they had taken a small step forward. But just as quickly, it faded when you absentmindedly kissed his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” you said, pulling away as if burned. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” he reassured you, though his heart sank at the distance that still lay between them. “You don’t have to apologize.”

But you shook your head, your expression filled with anguish. “No, it’s not okay. I shouldn’t have done that. I can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?” he pressed, confusion lacing his words.

“Trying to act like you’re someone you’re not,” you said, your voice rising again. “I’m sorry, Logan. I need to go.”

And with that, you were gone again, the door clicking shut behind you, leaving Logan standing alone in the kitchen, the echo of your footsteps lingering in the silence.

—-----------------------------------------------------

It was late, the hour when the world outside felt most distant, and in that stillness, you crept into the living room. The soft click of the door was nearly soundless, a careful intrusion into the quiet space. You paused for a moment, your heart racing as you took in the sight of him resting on the couch, his face softened in sleep, the lines of worry momentarily smoothed away.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you felt a pang of longing that twisted your insides. He looked so peaceful, so much like the Logan you remembered—the one who had held you tight during the darkest moments, who had whispered promises of safety and love in the shadows of your world.

You hesitated, fighting against the urge to turn away, to retreat into the safety of your solitude. But something drew you closer, a magnetic pull that you couldn’t resist. You lowered yourself to the floor beside the couch, tucking your legs beneath yourself as you settled into the familiar space. It felt almost like a ritual, a silent communion with the man you had lost and the man who was now before you.

Tentatively, you reached out, your fingers brushing against his cheek. The contact sent a jolt of electricity coursing through you, and you closed your eyes for a brief moment, savoring the warmth of his skin beneath your touch. It was a simple gesture, but it felt monumental—a connection that transcended the chasm of their reality.

“Logan,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I miss you.”

You traced the contours of his face, your fingers brushing over the rugged lines, the bump of his nose that felt so familiar yet foreign. “I wish you were here,” you murmured, your heart aching with every word. “Things were so much easier when you were here. You made everything better.”

As you spoke, memories flooded back—laughter shared under the stars, quiet moments stolen amidst chaos. You recalled how he had held you close, how his presence had been a balm for your troubled soul. The tears you had fought to hold back began to spill over, trailing down your cheeks as you continued to whisper to him, unaware of the ears that listened.

“Do you remember that night?” you asked, your voice trembling. “The one we spent at the old cabin? Just you and me, the fire crackling, the world falling away?” A soft smile broke through your tears. “You told me you loved me for the first time. I never understood how much I needed that until you were gone.”

Your fingers lingered on his lips, tracing the outline as if committing every detail to memory. “I wish you could come back to me,” you whispered. “I wish you could tell me everything would be okay. That we could go back to the way things were.”

You continued to speak, your words pouring out like a dam breaking. “I don’t know how to move on without you. It feels like I’m wandering through a fog, and I can’t find my way back. I keep seeing your face everywhere, and it hurts too much.”

Your voice cracked, and the sobs you had held at bay began to spill forth, raw and unfiltered. “I thought I could just push through it, but every time I see him…” you choked out, “I feel like I’m drowning all over again.”

“I don’t know how to face you,” you continued, her voice a whisper now. “You look so much like him, and it’s almost cruel. I keep hoping that somehow, you’ll turn into the man I loved, but you never do. You’re just… you.”

Eventually, you sat back, your hands falling to your lap as you took a shaky breath. “I just wish you could hear me,” you said softly, your voice cracking. “I wish you could know how much I still love you.”

With that, you stood up, the weight of your emotions visibly heavy on her shoulders. You looked at him one more time, before walking back to your room.

Logan lay there, his heart pounding in his chest, caught in a whirlwind of emotions. He had been awake the entire time, drawn from the depths of sleep by the sound of your voice, the weight of your touch grounding him in a reality he had longed for since he had arrived in this universe. He had wanted to reach out, to pull you into his arms, but he remained still, terrified of shattering the fragile moment.

He blew out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. How would he face you tomorrow after that?

God help him.

Taglist: @chubbyhedgehog @mostlymarvelgirl @nightingale-slayer @m1cky-y-y @arlovesper @misscrissfemmefatale

[leighsartworks216]

Oh, Hold Me Now

Zayne x AFAB!Reader

Guess whose period just started haha The things I would do to be in Zayne's arms rn istg

Title from "Hold Me Now" by the Thompson Twins

Warnings: menstruation, period fic, lots of domestic fluff, reader has a uterus but no other gender-defining things

Word Count: 1,726

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

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With a whimper, you curl in on yourself. The pain in your abdomen rapidly ramps up. You clutch at your belly, willing it to stop, please god stop. It doesn’t listen until tears prick at the corner of your eyes. Then it slowly ebbs away, letting you breathe again.

You reach behind you, but all you find is a cold bed. You whine, annoyed with your emotions and just how upset you are that Zayne isn’t there. Even on his day off, he doesn’t sleep in.

You slowly slide out of bed. Your feet touch your warm slippers, a gift from your husband when you were dating and had just moved in together. They hug your feet in a familiar embrace, cushioning your weight as you force yourself to stand. You shuffle off to the bathroom.

It’s miserable and uncomfortable and you’re cursing your existence by the time you finish on the toilet. On top of that, you’re almost out of product, and what you have definitely isn’t going to last the day. You groan to yourself thinking about Zayne, on his nice day off, having to take care of you. He wouldn’t complain, but it gives you half a mind to change into real pants and go to the store yourself, just so he doesn’t have to deal with this. The other half is just oh so comfortable in your pajamas. You have enough stuff to last a couple hours, you’ll just go then.

After you scrub your hands within an inch of their life, you open the medicine cabinet and pull out some good ol’ painkillers. As desperate as you are to get rid of this pain, you’re not desperate enough to wash the pills down with water from the tap. Not yet, anyway.

Wanting nothing more than to be at the peak of coziness right now while your insides tear themselves apart, you throw on one of Zayne’s sweaters and leave the bedroom to face the cruel day ahead.

You see Zayne’s head peeking out over the top of the couch as he reads a medical book, as big as his head and as thick as your arm. You would chastise him for working, but he’d say he’s reading for his leisure. The threat of an oncoming cramp forces you to ignore him and turn to the kitchen.

“I already got you a glass of water,” he calls. He turns to look at you over the couch, expression softening with sympathy as you double over, hugging yourself as though you could compress all the pain into a tiny little ball. It grows in intensity for a moment, forcing a whimper from your throat, before finally receding. You take a deep breath and stand back up, continuing to hug yourself. “Come sit down, my love. I’ll make you some tea.”

How could you refuse? You shuffle over and settle down into the plush cushions. You almost whine when he gets up, but you bite it back. You do pout, though, which makes him smile despite your pain.

He rounds the couch and plants a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll only be a minute. Take your medicine.”

The water is still nice and cold when you take a sip from it. So cold you can feel it running down your throat. The pills go down smoothly, and you’re more than grateful not to be choking on pain meds today of all days.

You close your eyes and lean back into the couch, abandoning your slippers on the floor in favor of tucking your feet underneath you. You can hear the kettle starting to bubble as he opens and closes cabinets, gathering what he needs to make you the perfect cup of liquid gold to ease your suffering. The thought brings a mix of guilt and affection; both upset that he is taking care of you on his day off, and glee that he’s, well, taking care of you on his day off. If this was the weekend, maybe you wouldn’t feel as guilty. As it is, he has work again tomorrow, and he had work yesterday, so it’s not so much a day off as it is taking a house call.

He returns with a matching pair of mugs, steam rising from the tops and the warm smell of tea and bitter coffee filling the air. He sets his drink of choice down on the coffee table, but you greedily cradle yours to your chest, letting the heat warm your face and the scent relax your body. He sits back down beside you, drawing you closer to him while being extra careful not to spill your tea. He doesn’t say anything about you wearing his sweater, but he does playfully tug on the hem, signaling that he’s noticed.

You smile for the first time today and tilt your head up to kiss him good morning. “Thank you,” you hum, kissing him again for good measure, before adding, “and I’m sorry.”

He shoots you a disapproving look, softened from his lack of glasses and the morning light coming in from the windows. “Don’t apologize. It’s completely out of your control.” He slips his hand under the sweater to massage gently right where you need it. You relax into it immediately, practically melting against him as he takes care of you. His massages are always the best, and they drastically lessen the cramps that torment you this morning. “Do you need anything else, my love?”

You make a disgruntled noise at the reminder. “I need more product.” You quickly cover his hand with one of yours, heated from holding your mug, to make sure he doesn’t pull away. “It can wait a bit longer, though.”

He chuckles softly, but he makes no attempts to move. His fingers press gently into you, seeking out where you need it the most. You hiss as another cramp assaults you. You instinctively draw your knees up, leaning more of your weight into him as you curl up. He slips beneath the final layers of clothes to lay his warm palm fully over your lower abdomen. The heat sinks in slowly, but it does help.

“Can we watch a movie?” you ask as the pain comes back down, voice slightly rough. “Unless you wanna keep working.”

“Reading a book isn’t working,” he retorts, fully catching onto your jab. You point it out nearly every time you go to the library and he checks out something from the medical section.

“It is when it’s almost a thousand pages of nothing but medications and surgical procedures.”

He leans forward to reach the remote and passes it on to you. While you turn the TV on, he also grabs his mug, before relaxing back into the couch. “What do you want to watch?” he asks instead of continuing to pointlessly defend himself.

You hum noncommittally as you scroll through the library of films and shows, ready to watch at the press of a button. There were a few medical dramas you liked watching with Zayne, if only to listen to him correct the show or insult how unprofessional the main cast is, but they don’t really strike your fancy right now. Something funny would be nice. Or something comforting.

It’s only a matter of time before you put on a familiar movie you’ve seen about a thousand times. Zayne makes no comment on this. Instead, he blows gently on the surface of his coffee and takes a tentative sip. His coffee contains enough sugar to mostly negate the bitter flavor of the drink, but it’s just perfect for him. You drop the remote to the side and take a sip of your drink as well, humming at the perfect flavors that ease down your throat. The morning sun warms you both.

-

“Get up for a moment.”

You hum sleepily, looking at him with tired confusion. “The movie isn’t over,” you mumble.

He gives you a reassuring smile as he rubs your back. “I know, my love. I’m not leaving yet.”

With a gentle nudge, you pull your feet from under you and stand on wobbly legs. You watch as he lays out along the couch, legs parted, and gestures for you to lay back down. He can almost see the spark of excitement in your eye as you situate yourself on top of him, your legs between his and your head tucked safely under his chin. He pulls the blanket from the back of the couch overtop of you, before wrapping you in his arms. One hand massages the tension from your lower back while the other pets your hair. It’s heaven, being in his arms like this. You melt fully into him, forgetting the movie in favor of hiding from the sun outside, burying your face in his chest and shoulder, and breathing him in deep. He smells warm and sweet, with the shock of his aftershave. He smells like home.

You scoot upward to hide your face in his neck. He welcomes you readily, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m sorry I’m ruining your day off,” you mumble.

He tilts his head toward yours slightly, hiding you further from the sun. “How did you ruin it?” he asks softly. “I get to watch one of your favorite movies with you while we cuddle. How is that ruining my day?”

“Cuz you have to take care of me…”

“I always take care of you.”

You huff. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

“I don’t think I do.” He rests his cheek against you. His lips brush your forehead as he speaks, like little kisses with each word. “Why do you think taking care of you would detract from my enjoyment of being around you?”

You remain quiet. The only reason he knows you haven’t fallen asleep yet is because of the hand you have on his chest that traces shapes over his shirt. He stops massaging your back to catch it, holding it firmer to himself.

“I can’t think of a better way to spend my day off.”

Your sigh fans across his skin, making the hairs on his arms raise. “I love you…”

He smiles. You feel it against your forehead as he kisses you again. “Get some rest. When you wake up, I’ll run to the store.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter

[thehereticdiaries]

Pack Mentality: Chapter Two

Chapter Summary: You meet your new pack after having a rather embarrassing conversation with Chan Warnings: Talk of past abuse/controlling behavior

Series Masterlist

As you stepped into the elevator of the dorm building, you were trying not to stare at Seungmin. Keyword: trying. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything. You weren’t trying to be rude or make him uncomfortable, you were just confused. During the walk from the hobby shop to the dorms, Seungmin’s scent started changing. Well, not exactly changing, he still smelled of a comforting mix of cedarwood and lemon, but it was like it was getting stronger. That something extra that you smelled on Chan was slowly permeating Seungmin’s scent. 

“I told everyone except for our other omega to wait in their rooms.” You were shaken from your thoughts when Chan broke the silence. “I’m gonna introduce them slowly. I don’t want you to be overwhelmed.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that,” you breathed a sigh of relief. You were nervous to meet six new people, but knowing there was another omega eased your nerves. The three of you shuffled into the landing of the dorm to take off your shoes. You stepped into an extra pair of slippers then followed Chan into the living room. Seungmin turned down another hallway, you assumed he was going to tell the others that you were here. The bright smell of citrus and spearmint radiated from a very excited blonde. 

“Hi! You must be Y/N, I’m so happy to meet you,” the blonde grinned at you. “I’m Felix.”

“You’re minty, like me.” You cringed internally. You had just blurted out the first thing that came to mind. Felix’s smile somehow grew wider.

“Oh my god, you’re adorable!” Felix giggled at your reddened cheeks. “Can I give you a hug?” You nodded and Felix immediately pulled you into his chest. You buried your nose into his collarbone, inhaling his scent. You closed your eyes and allowed yourself to relax for the first time since you were brought into the shop’s office. 

“How about we sit down, get comfortable,” Chan suggested after letting you indulge for a minute. “There’s some things I’d like to talk about while it’s just you, me, and Felix.” You forced yourself to untangle from Felix with a pout. Felix pulled you to sit on his lap on the large sectional while Chan occupied the recliner. 

“Right, this is going to be a bit personal. I figured you would be less anxious with another omega present.” You tensed up slightly, now worried that he was about to tell you they didn’t need or want another omega in the pack.

“It’s okay, love. We’re just getting your boundaries set in place,” Felix whispered, trailing his fingers over your spine. You sunk further into the blonde, nodding for them to continue.

“Do you know when your next heat is due?” Your eyes widened, not expecting the alpha to bring up your heat. It was a taboo subject at your parents’ home.

“Oh- um, it’s due in two and a half weeks. Why?” 

“I need to know if you want help with it or if you want to handle it yourself,” Chan explained. Your eyebrows furrowed.

“What do you mean?” You looked to Felix. “I thought I would just be locked in my room. That’s what my dad did whenever I went into heat.” Felix’s jaw dropped in horror, and you heard Chan inhale sharply.

“Sweetheart, I promise I am nothing like your dad. You don’t have to deal with your heat alone if you don’t want to. And if you do, we’ll get you set up at a heat sanctuary hotel.” Your eyes snapped back to Chan. 

“I didn’t even know those existed,” you admitted. Chan pinched the bridge of his nose, blown away by just how cruel your own father was to you. “You’d really help me? I don’t have to deal with the pain myself?”

“We are more than willing to help. Although I would be the first to do so,” Chan noted. 

“Wh- what?” 

“I’m the pack alpha, so I’m the first to have sex with our omegas.” You hid your flushed face behind your hands. 

“Awe, you don’t need to hide,” Felix cooed at your embarrassment. You peeked between your fingers at Chan, who waited patiently for you to signal him to continue. 

“I, um, I’ve never- I haven’t-” You struggled to form a coherent sentence. 

“Ah, you haven’t had sex yet?” You shook your head. “That’s okay, and if you don’t want to yet, I won’t be upset. You don’t have to answer right now. Think it over and let me know sometime next week.”

“I will,” you confirmed. “Are more pack members coming out soon?”

“I have one other question. It’s still about your heat, so you don’t have to answer right away,” Chan paused to check that you were still comfortable. “I don’t know if you’ve picked up on it, but you’re my mate.”

“Is that why your scent is different?” Your eyes widened in realization. 

“Yes, I didn’t want to freak you out, but I could tell from the moment I met you,” Chan revealed with a soft smile. Your heart swelled at the way he looked at you.

“Wait, Seungmin smells that way to me, too. Does that mean I have to choose one of you?” You fretted, unsure if you’d be able to make that choice.

“You don’t have to choose. It’s possible to have more than one mate,” Felix interjected. “Chan’s my mate, too. Got the mark to prove it and everything.” You paused, trying to find the right words to express your emotions.

“If I’m being honest, I never expected to find a pack, let alone a mate. Does this mean I’ll have a pack mark and two claiming marks?” You were trying to process the new information. 

“That’s exactly what I wanted to ask you,” Chan stated. “If you ask me to help with your heat, I’ll need to know beforehand if you want me to claim you.”

“O-oh! Why do you need to know before?”

“You’re not going to be totally yourself. You may ask for things while in that state of mind that you don’t actually mean.” You nodded slowly, absentmindedly picking at your fingers. “If you tell me that you don’t want to be claimed yet, I won’t do it even if you beg during your heat.”

“Okay, it’s a lot to think about, but I promise I’ll let you know soon.” Chan relaxed into the recliner, smiling fondly at you and Felix.

“You ready for Seungmin to bring out the other betas?” Felix asked while grabbing your hands to stop your nervous habit, mirroring the earlier actions of his alpha. You took a deep breath and nodded. Chan whipped out his phone, sending a text to Seungmin. Moments later, you heard rapid footsteps coming toward the living room. 

“New omega!!” A man with a heart-shaped smile slid across the hardwood. His enthusiasm caused you to giggle, which in turn had his smile brighten. Seungmin and another dark-haired man appeared behind the first. 

“Hi, Y/N, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Hyunjin and that’s Jisung,” the calmer of the two newcomers introduced. Jisung plopped on the couch next to you and Felix, squeezing between your bodies and the arm of the couch and blocking Chan from view. The remaining betas sat on your other side. 

“Wow, you’re so pretty,” Jisung sighed, leaning his head on the back of the couch. 

“Thank you,” you squeaked, pink flooding your cheeks once again. Jisung’s smile morphed into a smirk.

“You’re even prettier when you blush,” he teased. You hid in Felix’s neck, causing the two to laugh. 

“Jisung,” Chan warned from his spot on the recliner. 

“Sorry, sorry.” The beta raised his hands in surrender. After Seungmin coaxed you out of your hiding spot, conversation flowed easily. They asked about your studies and how you liked your university, and you asked them about their job. 

“So you guys are idols? I’m part of a super famous pack?” You questioned. Seungmin snickered from behind you, so you turned to face him. “Is it really that funny? I’m only asking because I’m not sure if your fans will like me.”

“When you’re ready for us to announce you, STAY will love you. And if they have an issue, they aren’t real fans,” Hyunjin reassured. 

“Even if the fans are okay with me being in the pack, what about the company? Do you think they’ll have an issue with me having two of you as mates?” The betas perked up at the mention of mates.

“Two?” Jisung repeated. 

“Mhm. Chan and Seungmin,” you confirmed, a little nervous that the others would be upset or feel left out. 

“Oooooo! You lucky bastards,” Jisung complained half-heartedly. 

“And she hasn’t even met the other alphas yet. Maybe she has more.” Felix wiggled his eyebrows at you. You snorted, slapping a hand over your mouth. They didn’t look upset, much to your relief. Seungmin stared at you, looking utterly lovestruck, a fact that Hyunjin did not let slide.

“Awwweeee, look at Min!” Hyunjin poked Seungmin’s side repeatedly. “He’s got heart eyes.”

“Shut up,” Seungmin muttered while swatting the older beta’s hand away. 

“Alright, alright, calm down,” Chan spoke up after staying silent for most of the conversation. “Y/N, are you good to meet the others? They’re gonna come in one at a time.”

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m excited to meet them,” you agreed. Chan sent another message out, and a minute later a young man with fox-like eyes entered the room. He grinned upon seeing you. His scent washed over you like a warm blanket. Cinnamon and vanilla soothed your nerves, feeling like you just stepped into a bakery.

“Hello, I’m Jeongin,” he greeted softly. He sat a little further from you on the same side as Seungmin. You wiggled your way out of Felix’s lap so you could sit between him and Jisung. It was easier to see everyone now that you were facing forward. The beta made a small noise of excitement, throwing an arm around your shoulders. 

“You smell like a cinnamon bun,” you mumbled dreamily. Jeongin looked to his lap to hide his blush, but the tips of his ears gave him away as they burned red. 

“Someone’s embarrassed,” Seungmin said in a sing-song voice while pinching the youngest pack member’s cheek. Jeongin groaned and pushed the beta’s hand away.

“Oh- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass anyone,” you apologized. “I just got excited cus this is the first time I’ve been comfortable around alphas.”

“Alphas usually make you uncomfortable?” Hyunjin asked despite the silent signals from Chan telling him to stop. You frowned and squished your cheek into Felix’s shoulder.

“They normally scare me. The only alphas I’ve been around were my dad and his friends.” 

“You don’t have to be scared of alphas anymore.” Jeongin’s pretty smile was gone, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I promise, me and Chan and everyone in this pack will make sure you’re safe.” 

“Thank you,” you smiled at Jeongin before turning to Chan. “I know you wanted the alphas to come in one at a time, but can I meet them both now? I want to have the whole pack together.”

“Yeah, I’ll call them in.” Chan sent out another text. His alpha puffed up with pride, pleased that you were already so caring for his pack. Once again, rapid footsteps approached the room. A very excited (and very muscular) man ran in with a bright smile. He immediately dropped down next to Jeongin. A much calmer man walked in next. He froze in his tracks, eyes locking onto you and nostrils flaring. 

“Minho, you alright?” Jisung asked. Minho ignored him, moving to kneel in front of you, never breaking eye contact. He gently grabbed your hand, running his thumb across your knuckles. 

“You’re real.” Tears gathered on the alpha’s lash line. “I’ve always hoped I would find my mate, just like my parents found each other.” You compulsively brushed your fingers over his cheekbone, your own eyes growing misty. 

“Does anyone want to explain what’s happening here?” The moment was broken by the alpha beside Jeongin. Minho exhaled loudly through his nose and you snickered at his annoyed expression. 

“Y/N is Chan, Seungmin, and Minho’s mate,” Hyunjin explained bluntly. 

“Oh no way! Congratulations on finding each other.” The alpha smacked Seungmin between his shoulder blades, earning a grunt from the beta. “I’m Changbin. He probably didn’t tell you, but Hyunjin is actually my mate.”

“Really?! Hyunjin, why didn’t you tell me?” You pouted. He only shrugged as an answer. Beside you, Jisung and Minho were having a silent conversation of eyebrow raises and head tilts, ultimately ending with the younger moving next to Changbin with a huff. Minho promptly took the spot next to you. As you looked over the pack, more specifically their pajamas, you came to a realization.

“I don’t have any of my stuff. What am I going to wear?” You asked, looking at Chan.

“You can use our clothes for now. Felix’s should fit alright, but we do need to decide when to go to your parents’ house for your belongings,” he noted and pulled up the pack’s shared calendar. “Looks like after Monday, we won’t have any days off for two weeks.”

“Dude, today’s Saturday. We’d have to go either tomorrow or Monday,” Jisung interjected. 

“Well, I do want to see my mom while I’m there. She has Sundays off and works from home on Mondays, so that works. But my dad also has the shop closed on Sundays and Mondays so he can be home with mom,” you explained. “I can just go by myself. You shouldn’t waste your days off helping me pack.”

“There’s no way in hell I’m letting you go to that house alone,” Chan stated firmly. “If your dad is there, then at least Changbin and I are going with you.”

“But-”

“No ‘buts’, dollface. We want to help you, so it isn’t a waste of our time off,” Changbin confirmed. You sighed, resigned to the fact they weren’t going to budge. 

“Okay, but Felix comes too. Showing up with two buff alphas would make my mom freak out.”

“Deal. Last thing to discuss is which room you’re gonna move into.” Chan ran a hand through his hair. “I’m pretty sure the only room that can fit another bed is the master bedroom with me and Jeongin.”

“Wh… what if I don’t want my own bed?” You stuttered. Chan furrowed his eyebrows, looking at you curiously.

“She wants to share a bed with someone,” Felix clarified. You nodded quickly.

“Not just one person, I’d like to sleep in everyone’s beds. I get nightmares sometimes, but I’ve never liked sleeping alone, even as a kid.” 

“I think we can arrange that,” Chan confirmed, grinning like an idiot.

“I’ll text my mom to see if we can go tomorrow.” You relaxed into Minho’s side and pulled out your phone.

“What the hell is that?” Felix pointed at your cracked iPhone 4. 

“My phone…?” You faltered at the disbelief on everyone’s faces. “What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s extremely outdated. I’m surprised it’s still running,” Chan scoffed. “I’m assuming your dad wouldn’t get you a newer phone?” You shook your head.

“Your dad should be thankful that I’m not going with you,” Minho seethed, a muscle flexing as he clenched his jaw. You didn’t answer, opting to text your mom. She answered right away, like always, which made you smile.

“We can go over tomorrow, they don’t have any plans,” you stated. 

“Right, so we’ll be getting you a new phone then going to pack up,” Chan started. “I don’t want you relying on that man anymore, and I’m nervous he may just cut your phone off.” You hummed in acknowledgement. You chatted with your new pack with a movie playing as background noise. For the first time in a long time, you were at ease. 

Permanent Taglist: @furfoxsake22

Series Taglist: @ihrtlix @ohh-to-be-rich-and-pretty @holly-here @queen-in-the-shadows @whoreforeverythingspice @staytinyluv

[starleska]

Rolando x Reader headcanons? You know you want to 😤

oh my god YESSSSSSS i would be delighted!!! 🙈🙈💖💖💖 warning, this one is a teensy bit NSFW, of the 'Rolando would quite like to devour you, mind and body' variety 😉 tws for canon-compliant fearmongering, fearplay, invasive behaviour, mild body horror and and general monsterfucking 👀 (i mean, y'all saw the episode, you know what you're in for-)

Rolando x Human!Reader headcanons 🐟💖

🐟 the people who darken the door of the One Star Wonder are always at the end of their tether, and Rolando wouldn't have it any other way. each one is more pathetic than the last: delicious morsels dripping with depression, anxiety and jealousy, and their bubble-headed selves all caught up in their oh-so-human concerns. Rolando greets each one with the same greasy charm, yet he makes sure to flavour his guests with just one too many inhuman gaffes. an incorrect turn of phrase here, a flash of too many teeth there, and before long, he has successfully unsettled his meat. so the night You step over the threshold and greet him with a warm, unknowing smile, he grinned right back, sure of a particularly tasty meal.

🐟 "Well, aren't you a precious little thing!" Rolando cooed, working in a lascivious gaze in the hopes of making You squirm. You stammered out a flustered thanks, and asked him if he had a room for the night. Rolando was dizzy; he could smell the indecision on You like pheromones, those little top notes of apprehension and fear, and it was all he could do to not clamber into your brain right then and there. "I've got just the room for you, dear, right at the back. And don't let anyone here give you shit under my watch. How abouts I escort you there myself? I'd hate for some filthy pervert to gobble you up along the way." before You could protest Rolando slipped around the desk, pressed a spindly claw into the small of your back and ushered You down a damp, ill-lit hallway.

🐟 as he guided You under the broken lights, Rolando's piscine gaze drank in the contours of your form. he'd played carnal games with humans before—desperate creatures that they were, their strangled whines as pleasure bled into pain never failed to amuse him. yet he'd never been so struck by the beauty of your kind. "So, what brings you to my malign establishment?" Rolando asked, as he carded his fingers through your hair. You shivered, but didn't pull away...a response which confused Rolando, but gave his Infestor heart a quiet thrill. You told him that you'd been kicked out of your home, and electricity shot down his back. he couldn't wait any longer. "Poor love...how could anyone be so cruel? Don't you worry your pretty little head. Tonight...you're all mine." 🐟 the few remaining lights in the hallway burst, and Rolando slipped into the blackness. You cried out in confusion as something cold and wet seized around your ankle and yanked You to the floor. chilling laughter echoed around the hallway, where it reverberated off impossible dimensions, like the hotel had yawned open to swallow You. "Oh, aren't you a hoot?" Rolando cackled. "Such fear...such excitement...what a delectable combination." Rolando's yellow-green eyes flashed in the dark, and the deathly edges of his teeth glimmered with saliva. You tried to run, but he dissolved into the dark and snatched at your shadow, tripping you with ease. Rolando's inky, gelatinous form drooled up your side and pinned You to the floor by the wrists, neck, and ankles.

🐟 "Running ain't the smartest move, sweetheart..." Rolando hissed, "...but boy, is it fun!" his monstrous tongue curled around your earlobe and invaded the delicate flesh of your ear itself, lapping in a way far too wet and obscene. You curled in on yourself, trying to make yourself small enough to escape, but Rolando's invertebrate form slipped between your joints and stretched out your limbs until it hurt. one dirty yellow light flickered into life above You and illuminated Rolando's sickly smirk. "Golly," said Rolando, putting his head on one side. "By now, normally I've got 'em screaming and wailing...but save a few sweet little sounds, you're quiet as a mouse." he wrapped himself around your face and breathed a blasphemy against your lips: "If I didn't know better...I'd say you're rather enjoying this." 🐟 a litany of protests tumbled from your mouth, but all they did was make Rolando laugh harder. "Don't deny it, sugar! I see everything tucked up inside that nasty little brain of yours...and fear ain't winning this race, honey." a nail as sharp as a blade tucked itself under your chin, and curled, tilting your face up to his. in the dark, Rolando's smile gleamed with bad intentions. "Tell you what...how about we play a game? You try to keep those lovely lips of yours shut..." a slight sting, and Rolando draws back his claw to admire a rivulet of blood. "...and I see how long it takes to make you scream."

[arcadiaa-writes]

She woke up slowly, her body already aching with need, her thighs pressed together for some kind of relief. She didn’t often wake up this needy but when she did, she knew only one thing could fix it… him.

He wasn’t awake yet, as he nuzzled into her, his arm draped over her waist. She couldn’t help but admire him, he looked so peaceful and she didn’t want to disturb him, but she needed him more.

Carefully she turned onto her side, facing him and almost instinctively he pulled her closer, his hand pressing against the small of her back, trapping her against him. She softly kissed his face, pulling a gentle hum from him, and she held his face in her hands, and kissed him properly, and as soon as their lips touched, his hand pushed her closer, holding her firmer against him.

“Morning kisses?” He mumbled, stealing smaller kisses as he stirred awake,

“Just soft ones,” she purred innocently, making his chuckle, he knew her all too well, maybe a little too well. She had motives, not ones he was going to willingly deny her, but not ones he was going to give her so easily. He kissed her forehead before tucking a finger under her chin; tipping her head back to look at him. Her eyes a little glassy from neediness and it made him twitch.

“Be a good girl and tell me what you want,” the order made her eyes go wide, and she blushed - she wasn’t always brave enough to tell him what she wanted, she didn’t know why, sometimes she just couldn’t.

“You,” she blushed, hoping that would be enough to get what she wanted, but knowing full well it wasn’t.

“Oh silly girl, you’ve got me, I’m right here aren’t I!” He mocked her, but pulled her thigh over his hip, so he could grind into her, enough to make her gasp but not enough to give her what she truly wanted.

“Would you like to try again?” His hand gripped her thigh, slowly grinding himself against her, her body shivered against his. She nodded as she took a slow, calculated breathe, causing him to smirk, proud of her.

“I want you to ride you,” she mumbled, her cheeks flushing again. He could have made her say it clearer, but he’d woken up wanting, and he could feel how needy she was, as he ground against her. The wet spot that had appeared on his boxers, was a mixture of them both, and with a low growl, he rolled them both, so that she was on top of him.

Her tousled morning hair framed her face perfectly, and the shirt, one of his, she was wearing carefully framed her body, and he drank all of her in. He could feel her heat against him, and it drove him crazy…he just wanted to be buried deep within her folds. It’s all he ever wanted, they were never able to put each other down.

His hands roamed her body, embracing her every curve, stirring soft gasps from her, her hips rolling against his, he let her take her time, as she slid her hand down his chest, and in between them both. She had no hesitation about freeing him from his boxers, stroking him a few times, he growled as her thumb slid over his tip, pre cum leaking out…

“Always so needy…” she purred, his pretty demon coming out to play, he could only whimper in response as she teased him more, his hands gripping her hips firm…

She lifted her hips ever so slightly, as she guided him through her dripping folds, he was holding his resolve, ignoring the impulse to slam her hips down, letting her tease them both. She could be insatiable and a little cruel at times, but every moment was worth it. She pushed him to her entrance, and his thighs were shaking, and he watched in awe as she slid down his length, moaning the entire way, panting as he filled her. He hissed at her heat, her tightness; her wetness, he was completely consumed by her. He could feel her adjusting to him, little quivers, clenches and vibrations and he knew he could lose it right there and then.

She finally started to move, slowly rolling her hips against him, her moans filling the room; he couldn’t help encouraging her more, telling her how good she felt wrapped around him; lifting her hips, and pushing her back down. The more he encouraged her, the faster she took him, and he could feel her tighten around him even more, and he relaxed his grip on her hips, watching her chase her orgasm.

“That’s it; come for me… you’re doing such a good job, you can do it…just a little more,” he encouraged her, and she whined, he could feel she was right on the edge, but not quite getting there. He slipped his thumb in between them both, and found that little bundle of nerves he enjoyed so much, and carefully rubbed it, and surely enough, with a few calculated strokes, she was convulsing around him, her nails digging into his chest as she panted his name over and over.

He took his opportunity to pull her down to him, tucking her against his chest, kissing her temple, whilst she settled a little, but not too much. He started to buck his hips up into her, gentle at first, until he couldn’t hold it anymore, and he was rutting into her over and over, her moans in his ear, encouraging more.

“Such a good girl for me, so wet, so needy…” he growled into her hair as he slammed into her, he felt her nodding, his climax building, they were both a mess, dripping and leaking, and he felt her clench around him again…

“Fuck, I can’t hold it when you do that,” he tried to slow his hips, as he moaned at the feeling,

“Don’t stop, god, don’t you dare stop,” she cried against him, rolling her hips to get some kind of friction. He didn’t need telling twice, as he bucked up into her, his arms wrapped around her tight, kissing her neck, as he felt her come undone against him again but he didn’t stop this time, he kept going, pushing her hips down as he rutted him, making sure to hit deep when he finally, and loudly came inside her…

He kept her nestled on his chest, kissing her forehead as she lightly dozed on him, little hums coming from them both as they came down from their high…

[the-kr8tor]

More Minotaur Hobie! X reader because I'm feeling funny. Btw Reader here is mostly undisclosed whether they're a demigod, mortal or etc. so you do you with your imagination honestly;

And as you stand in front of him, he already waits for the words he knows will come out of your mouth just as everyone who's seen him previously said: monster.

“...you're…”

And before he knows it he replies at the same time as you;

“Hideous”

“Gorgeous”

…And he stands there baffled. You would've had the time to try and attack him with how long it takes him to actually do or say anything. And yet you stand there admiring him with a softened gaze and a warm smile, excited to meet the man of the myths and legends you've dearly loved ever since you were younger.

Every night your father would tell you the same story. Yet he never made Hobie out to be cruel for his actions, he wasn't a monster in your father’s tale. Instead he was but a creature, but a man as any other. You look him over in all his glory, noticing the bruises, the scars, his eyes and how they dance over your form with untold anger and sadness.

He doesn't raise his voice at you any more. Seeing no point in fighting someone who clearly has no wish to. Not with the way you're looking at him, it makes him feel bare, vulnerable, if anything it only further upsets him about how he looks. Instead, he backs away, finding himself wanting to flee your emotions and kindness. His heart and soul aren't used to kindness.

“Wait- please. I just want to know you.” And your voice is just as tender as your expression and gestures. He hates it, oh gods how he hates it. He stays still, wearily letting you approach him as he stares at you, his form tense as he wonders when you'll hit him. When will you raise your weapons at him? When will you tell and scream and run away?

And yet you don't, in a small and innocent tone slowly asking him a few questions about himself. Making sure he knows he truly doesn't have to answer them if he doesn't wish to as you sit down in front of him. A sign of blind trust. A sign you truly want his time more than you want his end.

And so he stays standing up as he stares at your form, he stays standing, he has to be or else you'll think he isn't strong and might try something against him. And Hobie slowly starts answering your questions, being careful to not reveal any weak spots. And to your pleasure you listen to his words and voice.

There's always something soothing about someone who's stronger than you yet speaks to you like you're nothing but a fragile glass statue. He knows his strength, how easy it is to actually get rid of you if he so needs to. But eventually after a few hours of conversation he sits down with you. Having needed time to convince himself and you that you won't attack him in any way possible.

You who wears no fine clothes, no dreadfully heavy armor, you barely have any on, only a dagger at your side which you haven't bothered to even try reaching for. There is no need for it, not with a friend. And Hobie is your friend, at least he has been in his own way while you were but a child. His stories made you feel less lonely as you had been estranged with society all your life.

He feels it too, the slight similarities. How two hurt doves are now in the same nest trying to make home in a small budding friendship. And he waits for it anxiously. Wondering if you might turn out to be a praying vulture. But you never bare your claws to him, gentle with everything you do and say. Your jokes, your laugh, your smile…as time passes by he starts to feel better. He has someone finally. Is it foolish thinking perhaps? Maybe he's not seeing right. But then you hold his hand, no one's ever done that before. No one else would dare to. And yet you do. And you take his monstrous hand in yours and hold it as if it has meaning.

-🪦 wow actually mildly proof reading what a thing (I barely did)

In that darkened room, he finds his light 😭😭

Ngl i was trying very hard not to shed a tear while reading this 😭 you wrote this so well and in just a few words you made me feel both of their emotions 😭 ly this was so good

[mizaruwu]

You remember the sound of waves crashing into the shore, you remember the warmth of an embrace, you remember the soft hair on your face and fingertips and nothing more. But still, you miss it.

[shrews-art]

I could write a whole essay about how Victor Vale and Kell Maresh are two sides of the same coin, opposites yet somehow similar when it comes to their relationship with pain

[ivan-fyodorovich-k]

well lots to think about there

[beeseverywhen]

I mean like. Not to bring the mood down but... you guys know that's because American media is everywhere right? Like the world is unable to avoid some version of American accent on a regular basis. Of course ppl find it easy to mimic. This is absolutely not restricted to ppl in the UK, its really common for ppl who learn English as a foreign language to have perfect 'American actor' accents (cause the reason everyone's so good at the American accent that's expected of them as actors is cause at large there's little distinction between regions in the 'Hollywood accent' that ends up on TV and films and stuff. You guys have massive regional differences in pronounceation, but what makes it on to TV (in 9/10 cases) is a very standardised version of American English.)

But yeah. It's not just actors lol. Most British ppl can speak in a passable american accent, as can loads and loads of people worldwide. I'm not saying this to be like 'you should feel guilty! 😡' but it does always stun me when Americans are unaware of the impact their country has worldwide on all versions of English (and even on use of native languages. Many countries are using English more and more over their native languages and dialects , and yeah, historical colonialism has had an impact there.)

But in the last few decades things have progressed way way faster and that, is thanks to the impact of anglo/american/ect lead capitalism. I'm in no way dismissing the impact the UK has on this, but in recent years, its the US that is largely pushing that train .While the UK and several English speaking commonwealth countries are very involved in this kind of capitalist imperialism, there's a reason that more and more people are speaking American English. Not one of the many UK dialects, not Australian English, or NZ English. Across the world more and more people are increasingly speaking in the same standardised american dialect that's in so much of the media you export. Hollywood based media, with that standardised accent/ dialect and the standardised 'normal american life', has a stranglehold on the world and I just find it crazy that a lot of you guys don't even know.

It's stupid stuff like. So many countries are importing american cars and are widening their roads/ changing town planning to account for it (this is less of a thing in the UK but I see it more and more when I travel). Its the food becoming avaliable everywhere. Its the influence that for profit healthcare has even on countries with socialised health systems. Its houses being built to account for American style appliances. Fashion trends. Worldwide, everything is slowly evolving to be closer and closer to this 'American standard' which honestly? I really don't think actually represents the lives of real American people either. You've been turned in to products, the system has taken an unrealistic snapshot of 'American life' and it's being sold to you all day in day out, but it's also being sold to the rest of us. It's being pushed on us all.

Kids in the UK go through phases of talking only in American accents. Anyone born later than the 90s is carrying round 2 sets of spelling and vocab, cause we're all so used to the American way, that you barely know which one you're using half of the time. In the UK we have always had really strong regional accents yeah, and dialects differ between areas that seem tiny to you guys, I know. But like. Those dialects are being lost cause all UK accents are evolving to become closer to this standardised american and yeah not great, but at least we share a language! US American society is largely rooted in the same foundations as UK society, largely we have the same flaws! But oh my god. What about the rest of the world.

It's global. This impact continues to be seen, steamrollering ahead, in places that had completely different starting points. UK culture isn't that dissimilar to that of the US, so we aren't losing nearly as much as cultures that had something completely different. So much is being lost.

Languages and dialects and everything else is just being wallpapered over so we all meet the same ideal of the 'American life' and it's not even real! It's just a product based on how ppl were actually living in the US, manipulated until it's the most marketable mould. You guys are victims of it as well but like. It's based on your culture so you don't lose as much if you conform to it. Just like how in the UK, if we conform, we lose more than US, but nowhere near as much as countries that had languages, dialects and cultures that were so so different to UK/US culture. The less like the US, your starting point, the more there is to lose.

And look. I said it to start with. I'm not having a go. That's not what this is. But you guys really need to be aware, you need to make an effort to understand the impact that this plastic Hollywood american culture is having on the rest of the world. You need to actively look for it, and make an effort to not pay in to it. Because when Americans see other cultures represented in media and say its not relatable, when you guys go on holiday and make no effort to learn local customs, and try and pay in dollars and spend your time abroad like you're still in America, when you see cultural differences and immediately argue that the American way is better and of course everyone should have giant cars and never dry laundry outdoors and live in American style homes, without any kind of critical thought. Just 'this is how we do it so why wouldn't everyone else do it this way. This is the only way. The American way is obviously best.' When you guys do that you are individually feeding in to this absolute bulldozing of cultures (including American ones!) to allow for better marketability.

It isn't any one individual American citizens fault that things are the way they are, and you guys are victims of the same system, but you need to have some self awareness when it comes to the fact that as individuals you are unknowingly, helping driving this forwards and as individuals, there are things you can do to limit your personal impact (and no arguing that you have no culture is not it!!! Being all self deprecating doesn't do shit. Take some responsibility and accept that individual Americans didn't create this system, but currently, individual Americans really are doing their bit to keep promoting it, to keep pushing it on the rest of the world.

And I've already rambled for an age so I'll stop here but I just want to make clear as an ending note here, that this really isn't about piling on Americans and being all 'boo it's all America's fault. They should apologise. Their culture isn't worth anything.' Not at all this is the opposite of that. The fact that millions of Americans have been convinced you have no culture, all while a mimicry of American culture is plastered on to the rest of the world, and while you as individuals are encouraged to help that happen, often without even realising what you're doing; is a crime. You've been wronged, as have we all.

And America is not the problem. The problem is imperialism and it didn't start with you guys. It started in Europe, and Europeans, particularly British ppl, have a responsibility to push back and be self aware, take some fucking responsibility and not inadvertently keep feeding in to that system, just as you guys do. The US didn't start the fire, imperialist capitalism is a fire that started burning long before the United States was even considered, but its on all of us, to do what we can to not feed that fire. And right now? You guys are the face of it.

This idea of what America is, is the face of imperialistic capitalism, and that means that even if you don't mean to, you guys are feeding that fire more so than the rest of us. You're responsible for spreading it, more so than the rest of us. And if you don't step up and take responsibility, accept that you're gonna get it wrong sometimes and you need to try to do better; if we don't all do that. There will be nothing left. They'll paper over it all, the lives of real Americans just as much as those in Scotland and India and the Netherlands, and 100 other cultures, that are at risk, thanks to this fire, that's currently, largely coming from America.

So yeah. It's absolutely not just on you guys and ppl who act like there's no racism or wealth divide in Europe or anywhere else for that matter are complete idiots, however, this Americanisation of the world (and I hesitate to call it that. Because its not a representation of real American lives. Its simply wearing an American face.) Its real. It's happening.

And we don't tell you about it to make you feel guilty (those of us who aren't dicks at least) ,we are telling you. We are kicking up a fuss. Because it isn't fair. It's not right and while individual Americans ignore that and refuse to take responsibility where they can (small apples. We aren't asking for you to call a violent revolution in our names. Just take some time to learn about the rest of the world. Stop assuming America is always right and examine your biases. When you find them. Stop personally pushing them.) , while that is happening, as individuals, you are contributing to this. It's not even altruism. This system is hurting Americans too. It's hurting us all. All we ask is that you do what you can to not personally contribute, and keep an open mind, be aware. That's all any of us can do.

when a british actor does an american accent everyone’s like “i didn’t even know they were british until they were on colbert.” but when americans do a british accent everyone’s like “they’re supposed to be from east cocksford but their glottal e’s are north dicksford. shameful.”

[babycharmander]

(BOOK OF BILL SPOILERS)

I just finished reading The Book of Bill and I am kindof losing my mind over some of this stuff.

I had wondered if Alex Hirsch might make Bill sympathetic in some way and oh boy I was not expecting him to do it so successfully (and without cheapening Bill's character).

So, we learn that Bill was born into a 2D world... as a mutant who can see into the third dimension. He claims he was absolutely loved by all, but when talking about his powers, he mentions under Pyrokinesis:

"Cipher, Cipher, he's insane / Starting fires with his brain." The kids in grade school could be so cruel. But where are they now, huh? WHERE ARE THEY NOW?

So probably not quite as liked as he was letting on. To add to that, there's the silly straw page, which looks like silly nonsense until you decipher some of the codes:

"EYE DOCTOR OF A DIFFERENT KIND / WHO WANTS TO MAKE HIS PATIENTS BLIND" "THE DOCTOR SAYS / THREE SIPS A DAY / WILL MAKE THE VISIONS / GO AWAY"

I wasn't sure what this meant until I saw someone point out... he was seeing a third dimension that no one else could see. His parents probably took him to the eye doctor to try to "fix" him. Which, speaking of his eye doctor, the coded message in the section about human eyeballs says something interesting:

"MY OPTOMETRIST NEVER SAW IT COMING"

It could be a joke given beforehand he's talking about dissecting a human eye, but given the previous hints of medical abuse, I wouldn't put it past him that he tried to get revenge on his eye doctor.

Oh yeah and the whole thing about him setting his entire dimension on fire? Yeah it turns out it was entirely a mistake (he just wanted everyone to understand the third dimension he was seeing so they could be free of only two dimensions), he was so traumatized by it he blacks out when trying to recall it. He deeply, deeply regrets it, and...

"What? Your ENTIRE home dimension? destroyed? How? By what?" Bill looked distant, more distant than I'd ever seen him. "By a monster."

He sees himself as a monster.

And yet, he's not some innocent, misunderstood being. He still revels in causing pain and chaos. He's terrible in general, but becomes incredibly abusive toward Ford.

"YOU'RE MY PROPERTY. DON'T FORGET IT. The hillbilly abandoned you, your father won't want you returning without millions, you have no friends, and if you died out here in the snow, who would even miss you?"

Which... speaking of him and Ford...

Yes, yes, I know people ship them. But like, whether you see their relationship as romantic or platonic (I see it as the latter), there's some interesting parallels to be made here.

Both Bill and Ford are mutants who were mocked for their being different. (Bill was not physically a mutant, as far as we know, but more in the sense of him having vision stronger than that of everyone else in his dimension, and also having special powers. And he does describe himself as a mutant.) Both became social outcasts, separated from their families but still haunted by them (Ford seeing commercials of Stan on TV and running across old photos of him and his brother, Bill being haunted by his family in some form). Neither could return home for one reason or another. Both more powerful than their peers (Ford intellectually, Bill in terms of actual powers). Both of them isolated and alone. (Yes, Bill does have the Henchmaniacs, but they seem like shallow friends, and only really seem to follow him out of a desire to have a place to party.)

Ford was not aware of most of this, aside from knowing that Bill could not go home because his dimension was destroyed. But Bill absolutely saw himself in Ford. There was no other person he tried to use whom he felt a stronger connection to.

And he actually seems to care about Ford--he actually gave him a birthday present, and when Ford didn't like it, he decided to get drunk and party with him instead to make up for it.

And then when Ford realizes what Bill's plan actually is and refuses to go along with it, and fights back no matter what Bill does, Bill completely breaks down.

After living for trillions of years, he met someone who was like him, and that person rejected him.

He goes berserk, wreaking havoc, being caught by the dimensional authority that he's been taunting for most of his life.

And then after dying and being cast out of hell for being too annoying, he winds up faced with the Axolotl, who sends him to therapy, where he continues to break down further, sending out the book in a desperate attempt to find someone, anyone who will help him break loose and wreak havoc once again.

"You have no friends, and if you died ... who would even miss you?"

I don't know, Bill. Who would even miss you?

In short,

[ID: The front and back of one of Bill's Valentines cards. On the front is a black void with Bill Cipher lying down without his hat, gazing blankly upwards, with the text "I DON'T WANT TO DIE ALONE" above him. On the back is a simple white "TO/FROM" in red, with a red outline illustration of Bill spontaneously growing a mouth and eating a realistic, bloody heart. /end ID]

[joycrispy]

I wanna talk about The Angel Who Would Be Crowley.

Because I had a certain set of expectations, which got thoroughly trashed in the first five minutes of S2, and my genuine response is, "Oh, fuck, yup. You're right. That's WAY better."

Looking around at GO fandom, I'm not alone in this. So let's talk about it.

Basically, a lot of people (myself included) believed that he was a high-ranking angel, and therefore as chilly and remote as every other powerful angel we'd seen at that point. We pictured Crowley-To-Be as long-haired, regal and imposing --and the fanart at the time reflected this. I'd link some if Tumblr didn't hate links.

Something like this:

We were collectively drawing on a few things --mostly, Crawly's appearance and general bearing in the Biblical scenes of S1--

--But also scattered hints of his importance, backed up by conspicuous absences in Heaven and a few profound displays of power. That's all better covered elsewhere, so I won't reiterate the arguments here. All I'm saying is: I think our headcanons were justified.

But it turns out he was this:

!!!

With his curly little--!!

And his neat white--!!

IT TURNS OUT, he was an angel who squeaked and squealed when he was happy; who flailed his arms around and made explosion noises with his mouth to explain nebulas; who preened when told his stars were pretty. Furfur, who knew him before the Fall, says:

"You used to jump on me back, little monkey in a waistcoat..."

(The use of a diminutive there, 'little'...oh, that fascinates me.)

In a pretty huge subversion of expectations, we're given these glimpses of an angel who was sweet, and joyful, and heart-meltingly silly.

In sum...an innocent.

(Perhaps innocent to a troubling degree.

We see how he troubles Aziraphale, during their first conversation. He starts looking around and behind them, checking to make sure that no one can HEAR the blithe and reckless things coming out of this angel's mouth. This angel who talks like he's never been reprimanded in his life; like it's never occurred to him that anyone would want to hurt him.

Before the Beginning, Aziraphale understood Heaven better than he did. The danger is plainly occurring to Aziraphale.)

So now, we the viewers are in on a cruel joke that Aziraphale has known all along, which is that this --THIS-- is the angel who--

*checks notes*

--did a million lightyear freestyle dive into a boiling pool of sulphur. For asking questions.

...Imagine you are Aziraphale, and everything inside you wants to believe Heaven are the Good Guys, and God is Good and Everything She does is capital-R Right...and now try to reconcile that. Keep trying. I don't think he ever totally managed it in 6000 years.

All this gets further complicated when we learn that, despite all of the above, we were still right. That sweet excitable babby up there?

He WAS a powerful and high-ranking angel.

That much is explicitly confirmed, with significant evidence that he could have been among the mightiest of archangels...

...Who apparently accosted his fellow angels for piggyback rides. And was remembered millennia later by those (now fallen) angels as something 'little.'

What does that tell us about who he was? Is?

Hell, Aziraphale has known to be wary of the archangels (and the judgements of Heaven in general) since before the Fall even happened. He chooses to believe they are Good; he can't fool himself into thinking they are Safe.

Yet he's absolutely certain that Crowley won't hurt Job's children. Enough to stand in a burning building and say to them, "I can't save you, but don't be afraid. I won't need to."

And what reason does he give?

("I know you."

"You do not know me."

"I know the angel you were.")

What does that tell us about who he was? Is?

("The angel you knew is not me."

But how is Aziraphale supposed to believe that, when he can see him all the time?)

tl;dr --yes, this is better. I love the tragedy of it.

'Innocence died screaming' and all that.

[entitled-fangirl]

He would burn the world for her.

Felix Carton x fem!reader

Summary: Felix and the reader don’t appreciate the looks Oliver is giving her. 

Words: 1,689

Warnings: Oliver is his own warning. He’s creepy to the reader. Making out in a bathtub- not super descriptive. Yelling, cursing.

Author's note: May god bless our souls for not only watching Saltburn but also reading fanfics about it :|

Masterlist

.........................................

Y/N was a usual resident at Saltburn. The girlfriend of Felix Catton himself, she often found herself spending her time at his family mansion during holiday. She had a family that loved her, sure. But it couldn’t match up to the things that Saltburn, and Felix, gave her. 

Oliver was one of those things. A seemingly loyal friend to her dear Felix. And she was overjoyed when he agreed to spend the summer at Saltburn with them. 

She sat on a lawn chair near the pool, a bikini adorning her body. She tilts her head slightly to the side, to see her perfect Felix in the pool. A graceful smile shows on her face as she moves back to relax in the chair. She hears the sound of splashing water and soon, a shadow is felt over her body. She moves her sunglasses down her nose to peer over them. Felix stands above her, his body dripping from the pool and a large smirk across his face. 

“Hi, beautiful,” he says. His smirk grows into a grin. He leans his tall body down, his arms reaching out to catch him against her chair. His frame towers over her more than it does when he’s standing. 

She meets him halfway, their lips touching in a gentle kiss. Her hand moves up to the back of his neck, lightly tugging at the hair there. He groans, pushing into her lips a little rougher. 

Farleigh gives a small laugh, “You two are too horny to be out here, right now. Go get a fucking room.”

Y/N pulls apart from him with a slight blush on her cheeks. Felix’s jaw clenches slightly, his head turning in Farleigh’s direction. “Don’t be jealous of what I have and you don’t.” He then leans back down to kiss Y/N as if no comment was ever made.

They made out for a little while, Y/N at Felix’s mercy. Not that he was ever a cruel lover. No, quite the opposite. He was very giving. He was a giving person in general, a quality his girlfriend admired greatly.

They pulled away from each other, Y/N slouching back against the lounger like before, and Felix going back to the pool. Her eyes closed as she heard the splash of his return to the water.

The moment was interrupted yet again, but by Felix’s voice, “Oliver! You getting in?”

Y/N opened her eyes at that to see Oliver’s answer. But Oliver’s eyes were on her. They had been on her. She could see that Felix’s question had broken his train of thought. Oliver shakes his head a bit, blinking. “Oh, uh. Not sure.”

Felix nods his head with a certain look. Y/N had seen it many times. It was a knowing look. He didn’t give two shits if Oliver got in the water, but he did care if the scholarship boy was looking at his girl a little too much. But he took that as an answer and went back to relaxing in the warm water.

But Y/N still felt Oliver’s gaze. It was quite uncomfortable now that she knew it was there. She tried to do anything to relax. She closed her eyes. She watched Felix. None of it would distract from the constant feeling of being watched by Oliver’s piercing eyes.

Hours passed and the family found themselves retiring for the night. Felix lead Y/N by the hand to his room, a routine the entire family was used to at this point. He closed the door behind them before turning around and placing his hands on her waist.

She sighed at the feeling, a relaxing end to the day. The day’s events were still bothering her, but she didn’t wish to bring them to her boyfriend’s attention. After all, Oliver was to stay here for a while, and the last thing she wanted was to cause conflict between the two.

Felix noticed the deep look in her eye. He let out a soft sigh, “How about a warm bath?”

Her eyes met his, “a bath?”

“Yeah. It’s been a long day. A warm bath might be nice. I mean we don’t have to-“

“-No. I want to. I do.”

He smiles, leaning down to kiss the top of her head before disappearing into the bathroom. The sound of the running water is heard soon after.

She sits at the end of his bed, running her hands through her hair to calm herself. It truly did bother her, but what if it’s nothing? She knows that Felix would burn the world for her, but she didn’t know if it was worth the world burning. Not over something so stupid as a stare from one of his friends.

He returned before she had even noticed. He pulled her hands from her hair, placing them on his chest. He pulls her up easily. “C’mon, love.” 

…

She is straddling Felix in the tub, their bodies close. Her hands are in his hair, and his are wandering over her body, admiring every part. Their lips are locked in a passionate kiss that is getting hotter by the minute.

Why was Oliver looking at her? Was he jealous? Perhaps just curious? Did he want her? Did he want Felix? Simply judging? What does the boy want and why? He was beyond impossible to read.

Felix at this point had slowed himself, seeing that she was not reciprocating his movements. His hands now rest on the side of her thighs, keeping her in place. He pulled away softly, his tone quiet and comforting, “What’s wrong, beautiful?”

She is pulled from all of her thoughts quickly, realizing he had caught on. “Nothing, Felix. It’s nothing, really.” She moves forward to catch his lips again.

He lets her for a moment, before his hands gently grab her face, pulling her away. “Don’t lie to me. And don’t try to deflect like this. I know something is bothering you. It has been. Please. Trust me?”

The sound of the water trying to settle is all that is heard in the bathroom at this point. She finally lets out a breath, “It’s not something you can fix. I can handle it.”

He pulls her face into his hands again. “Is it something I’m doing? If it is, I-“

How could she do this to him? He was now doubting himself, and it was all her fault. She felt awful. She had to correct this.

Her hands move to each side of his chest. “No, Felix. It’s not. I promise, it’s not. You’ve done nothing.”

He nods, his jaw clenching slightly as if he knows exactly what’s bothering her at this point. “It’s Oliver, isn’t it?”

Her hand reaches up to his mouth, a finger pushed to his lips. “Shh… he’ll hear us.”

He moved his head back from her hand. “I don’t care,” he says, “If it is Oli, I understand. I noticed it today, too. And it is a big deal to me if it bothers you, angel. It bothered me, but I figured I’d let it go if it was just me noticing. I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

He was the sweetest thing she had ever seen in her life. Her eyebrows lifted, “You’d do that for me?”

He smiled, “‘Course. Consider it done.”

She smiled as well, moving her body against his. Her lips connected with his once more.

…

She woke up to the sound of yelling. She sat up in bed quickly. Her hair was a mess, her body in nothing but Felix’s t-shirt and her underwear. Her head cocked to the side as the sound continued. It was coming from Oliver’s bedroom.

It was Felix’s voice.

She never heard Felix raising his voice like this before in her life. It had been raised before, yes. But never like this, and never had it had this horrid tone in it. 

She pushed herself to the end of the bed, standing herself up. She ran towards his voice, opening the bathroom door and running through it to Oliver’s room. She opened that door quickly, her body standing in the doorframe.

This caught both men’s attention. They both turned to her. Oliver’s eyes widen at her attire before a smirk appeared on his face. Felix’s eyes softened as he saw her worried expression.

“Oh, angel. I’m sorry to wake you up,” Felix says, his usual sweet tone returning as if he wasn’t screaming seconds earlier.

Oliver chips in, “Yeah, sorry. Felix and I were just chatting about yo-“

A glare was sent to Oliver from Felix, shutting him up quickly. Felix turned back her her, his eyes comforting again.

“Go back to bed. Breakfast isn’t for another hour,” he said, stepping towards her.

She’s beyond confused at this point. Her hand rests against the doorframe, her eyes moving between the two men. “Is... Is everything alright, Fe?”

Felix sighs, moving towards her again. Now in front of her, his hand moves up to the side of her neck, caressing it gently. “Yeah. We’re fine. Back to bed now.”

Her eyes shift to Oliver again. He stands with a confident appearance. He has a smirk on his face, his eyes focused on her bare legs.

Embarrassed, she nods, moving backwards into the bathroom. “Alright. Good morning then, Felix,” her quiet voice says. She nods to Oliver, “Oli.”

She moves back quickly, but not quick enough, hearing Oliver quip, “Good morning to you, beautiful.” 

Felix head spins back to Oliver, his voice a growl, “Don’t fucking-“

That’s all she heard, for she had went back into Felix’s room, shutting both doors. She rested her head again, letting sleep overtake her as Felix had requested.

…

When breakfast time came, Oliver was nowhere to be found, but Farleigh had blabbed to her later that Oliver had left Saltburn in a rush before breakfast with at least a black eye and a limp in his step.

She twisted the fork in her hand, her eyes focusing across the table at Felix’s bloody knuckles.

He would burn the world for her.

[tapakah0]

(runout of tags again I hate it here gotta bite the max ammount) #Also. I feel like Ward's perception of Oscar will be changing from now on #Yep. a bastard. a smart bastard. But let's be real. He can survive and get you out, follow him # Mhm. Cass I think I did mention that I was up for the story, because of what could possibly be in this story later # We reached the point where I open the door, close it from inside and throw the key in the window from 10th floor

Part 13 ;)

Oh no, they're roommates now?? Hope you're ready for the fluff, family dynamics, and chaos that follows~

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