#and she pointed out what she took to be a mistake but i had to explain that no we just use that word differently.

[wtfaniii]

Can you pleaseeee do a Namgyu x reader story where he’s your mean ex boyfriend that secretly still wants you 🙏

Of course! That man has something and you know it girl

From love to hate

Nam-Gyu (player 124) x reader // you

Fem reader!

Summary: You were so miserable that out of 456 people in this game you met again with the man who made your love life miserable a year ago.

Warning: Some emotional abuse, unstable relationship on both sides.

Note: I understand you girl, that boy has something that makes him attractive, I hope this is to your liking and meets your expectations!

The second game was over, the girl just wanted to calm her nerves sitting silently on her bed but she was startled a little when Thanos appeared next to one leap.

—Get lost —she said, rolling her eyes and continuing to play with his fingers.

—How pretty —he said sarcastically.

—You were nicer before —Gyu said, coming to her left side.

She sighed and got out of bed ready to move out of there, she wanted to have zero contact with him after having found in bed with her best friend.

—Fuck you

—¿You kiss with that vocabulary? —Nam-gyu hurried to stop her from escaping and stood in front of her.

—¡Move! ¡I don't want anything to do with you!

Yes, the guy was an idiot, he acted like an idiot throughout their entire relationship and he would always be an idiot.

She thought could tolerate him, she loved him enough to do it but there was a limit she wasn't going to cross, infidelity was something she was never going to get over.

Nam-gyu wasn't going to give up now that he had her so close, she was the only one who loved him just the way he was and even though he had made a mistake by getting between the legs of her slut friend he still couldn't stop thinking about her.

He took her arm with a little more force than he should have, it was inevitable, he wanted to tell her to please stay but instead he said something more hurtful.

—Stop being such a bitch and listen to me.

In his mind he wanted to regret it but the laughter deep inside Thanos made his ego as a man grow.

That was one of his many problems, the influence that third parties managed to have on him.

However, he couldn't think of anything else when he felt the girl's hand crash into his cheek, both becoming the center of attention of the other players.

—If you call me a bitch again, I'll kick you where it hurts the most —she warned him, pointing a finger at him in a threatening manner, to which Nam-gyu raised his hands in a sign of peace while backing away.

—She's a real sweetheart —Thanos said for the second time, amused and sarcastic.

—You have no idea....

[...]

It was time for the third game, the girl managed to overcome each and every one until it was time to pair up and take a cubicle before the rest.

She was alone, she thought that this time it would be the end for her.

Meanwhile Nam-gyu and Thanos had already managed to get an empty cubicle but just before closing the door 124 stopped at the entrance and looked in all directions.

—¡¿What the hell are you doing?! ¡Come in already!

But he ignored it completely, the drug in his system raised his adrenaline and clouded his judgment but the only thing he was quite clear about was that he had to make sure his damn ex-girlfriend was still alive after this.

Seeing her disoriented in the crowd, he didn't think twice and ran towards her, hearing Thanos shouting at him but he kept his eyes on the girl.

As soon as he got close to her, he took her by the shoulders and led her to a cubicle where, after having beaten the players out, he managed to close the door with her.

She was just about to thank him when Nam-gyu waved his hand at her to shut up.

—Not a word —he said, taking deep breaths.

—I was going to tell you that you are an idiot.

He gave her an annoyed look, but she was actually grateful even though she wasn't going to say it out loud.

Despite hearing the screams and gunshots through the door, the tension between them was also palpable.

They had so many things to say to each other but it was neither the time nor the place, Nam-gyu only needed to be so close to death to know that among so much shit in his life she was the only one he needed.

Their relationship had been so close and strong that all it took to end it was a one-night stand with another woman, and now he regretted it.

—I was drugged when I slept with her —he said without turning to look at her and watching through the small crack in the door as the pink soldiers collected the corpses of the eliminated players.

—That doesn't make it better —she replied without much enthusiasm.

Just by hearing her voice he knew that she had not let go of the past either, he knew her well enough to realize that the feeling of wanting to return was mutual.

But neither of them took the step that was required.

Once the doors opened, they both silently left there, Nam-gyu was the first to go towards Thanos who looked at him with his eyes half closed.

[...]

During the voting, the players looked at each other with hatred and other mixed emotions, Nam-gyu's gaze remained on the girl who was on the side of those who had chosen the tag, it was curious how now he too was questioning whether he should choose the circle again or this time make the decision to end the games.

—¡Press the circle! —Thanos shouted euphorically, bringing him out of his thoughts.

Min-su was slightly startled by the sudden shout, "Pathetic" Nam-gyu thought but he also felt somewhat pressured to make a decision.

After Thanos went to vote, he approached the poor trembling boy and spoke into his ear.

—If you don't press the circle you will be left alone without anyone to defend you.

It seems that this was enough to keep the 125 votes in his favor, with that they would win and continue participating, but when it was his turn his hand deviated towards the huge check mark.

He clearly heard Thanos' frustrated groan.

He took the red badge that the guard gave him and stood next to those his companion so hated.

—I honestly thought you would vote to keep playing —the girl murmured, standing next to him —¿What made you change your mind?

—Shut the fuck up —he mumbled angrily.

She still smiled softly at him and took his hand, a simple but meaningful sign that she was still by him side. Just as she had promised him since they met

The votes ended in a tie and now Nam-gyu had to continue playing and tolerating the irritable Thanos, he did not consider him his friend but his partner, he only hoped that this decision making would not influence their bond of trust too much.

Unfortunately, that was not the case and the tension between both sides of players increased with every second in the men's room.

—I'm not mad at you —230 said, approaching him while splashing some cold water on his face —I would also bend over backwards for a hottie like her.

He wanted to avoid fights but 333 butted into his conversation.

—Stop bothering others, you must understand that not all of us want to die in here.

Thanos laughed amused. —Oh look! The two lovebirds want to get out of here just because their girlfriends asked them to!

—I think we've collected enough money —Nam-gyu interrupted with a stern expression and a defensive posture. —Friend, we can still get out of here.

Maybe if 230 hadn't been under the influence of drugs he would have listened to him and they would have had a formal conversation where everyone would have come out a winner.

But that wasn't the case, instead he blurted out the following words.

—¿Why don't I just let you two die in the next game? You two can relax, I'll take care of your girlfriends so they won't be alone, if you know what i mean...

He barely finished the sentence with an arrogant smile when 333 threw a punch that Thanos managed to dodge.

He was going to make fun of it if it hadn't been for Nam-gyu punching him in the face, leaving him stunned and unleashing a fight between the Circle team and the X team.

Nam-gyu may have been a jerk to her, but she was still his girl and even if he had to kill other contestants, he would make sure they both came out alive and with a good amount of money.

Yeah... he did love her.

[suni-writings]

Take the pain away.

jude bellingham x fem!reader

wc: 2.2k

+18!! mdni

(content warning: unrequited feelings, cheating [unrelated to jude x reader], toxic relationship [also not jude x reader], smut, fingering, unprotected sex [have safe sex pls])

it's been a while since i wrote a jude smut, but you ask and i shall deliver. we have been waiting for this one. heavily inspired by "fuck the pain away (lost tapes 2022)" by tory lanez.

He was exhausted. Not because of football, not because of fame, but because of his best friend. Being physically exhausted was something he was used to — Jude could get rid of it in a few weeks if it resulted in some type of pain. Emotionally, however? He was clueless as to how to heal it, especially since time did nothing but deepen his feelings towards her. It messed up his head, his thoughts got foggy, and he seemed to act out of impulse whenever he was around her. Nothing could really stop him when she was next to him, and that was his doom.

Well, that and her boyfriend. Her hideous, stupid attempt of a man of a boyfriend, whom did nothing but make her feel bad and cheat on her. She wasn’t the girl Jude used to know anymore — the fierce one, who everyone would be scared to even look at her the wrong way. Somehow, that manipulator managed to get her undivided forgiveness every time. It was a never-ending cycle, one that was tearing his mind apart. He was always the one to rescue her, until that dumbass showed up again, promising to be different and acting like a prince for a week.

That night wasn’t any different. The moment his phone vibrated in his pocket and Jude saw who sent the message, he already knew what it was about. And, despite being tired, he still walked up to her house, because she had him at his mercy. He wanted nothing more than to see her okay again, to be her sunshine of her rainy days.

Even if for a single moment only.

She had left the door unlocked for him. Jude carefully got inside, taking a deep breath. He could hear her sobs coming from her room, which he carefully walked up to.

“Princess?” Jude called out softly.

Even in the darkness, he could see her hands coming to dry the tears in her eyes. She sat up, still sniffing, and he sat next to her. He caressed gently her face and wiped another tear.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked quietly.

“What’s the point? You already know what happened. It’s what always happens.” She let out a humorless chuckle and sighed. “I’m sorry. I probably look like shit right now.’

Bellingham took a moment to look — more like admire — her face. Red glimmering eyes, puffy nose, the bite marks on her lip to avoid crying. She still looked breathtaking.

“You look like a mess, honey,” Jude smirked. “But still pretty as ever.”

She gave a small smile, that quickly turned into a grimace, and she looked at him.

“I feel so weak, Jude. I don’t know why I keep letting this happen, I don’t know why I’m so—” she stopped midsentence and laid in bed again, holding back her tears. He was next to her, supporting the weight of his body on his elbow. “Please, take this pain away. I can’t handle this anymore.”

He took a deep breath yet again. There’s not much he could do, and all his options sounded selfish; even if it was for her own good, it also benefited him. Like leaving that project of a man for once and all. He slowly took strands of her hair out of her face, gently outlining her cheek. He avoided looking at her lips, because he couldn’t do anything about it. Especially with her this vulnerable.

“I’m here, princess. What can I do for you?” Jude asked quietly, toying her hair between his fingers.

“Take the pain away.” She begged again and looked into his eyes.

She had no idea how much Jude wanted to do that.

“I can’t do that. I’m not him, I can’t fix his mistakes, but I can—” he bit his tongue when he realized he was about to say too much; to act selfishly, to prove her she could do better, to give her a taste of what she could have.

A few moments of silence fell between them and her eyes searched for his. She leaned closer, as if she got the hint. As if she wanted it too.

Jude could be her temporary relief, he didn’t care. If he could help, he would.

Who was he trying to fool? If he could have her in any way, he would.

“Fuck the pain away. I could fuck the pain away, baby.” He whispered as he looked at her in her beautiful, almost translucent nightgown. “An eye for an eye. Give him a taste of his own poison. You say the word, I’ll do it.��

She leaned even closer to him, her hand gently resting on his face as she caressed his cheek. She bit her lip, thinking. She was desperate, and Jude was right there for her.

If her boyfriend could do it, then so could she.

Without a second warning, to Jude’s surprise, her lips crashed into his, hastily seeking relief. When their tongues touched, she was in a frenzy, and everything started to get blurry.

All she could think was the way Jude kissed and bit her neck, the way his warm tongue descended to her collarbone and threatened to go even lower. The way she tugged, on Jude’s hair, not wanting the moment the moment to end, needing more of his kisses. Of his burning touch.

“Need to take this off, princess.” He muttered against her collarbone, holding the hem of her nightgown. She nodded and stood her arms up so he could easily remove it. “Making this all so easy for me.” He said once he saw her breasts and tossed the nightgown away, biting her nipple before gently sucking it while caressing the other with expertise.

She was already panting. In a single attempt, he brought his covered knee close to her core, and the damp in her panties was undeniable.

That only fueled his anger. That bastard had her and didn’t touch her properly.

His mouth left her breast and moved back to her neck, sucking and biting it while his hand descended to her core and she her back almost arched in anticipation; if he knew she was that touch deprived, he would’ve suggested that a long time ago.

With his hands underneath her underwear, he pressed two fingers against her clit and moved them slowly, pressuring further to see the way her chest rose, the way her cheeks flush and how her mouth opened, too scared to make a sound.

So, without warning, Jude inserted the two fingers inside her and moved them fast, curling them until he found the spot that made her back arch, and the room became filled with moans. He kissed her throat, his mouth vibrating with each moan that came out of her mouth. His movements were precise, fast, and with an urge to prove something that, before he could realize or properly enjoy what he was doing, her walls were closing against his fingers.

“Jude, I’m—” she tried to say, but he smirked against her skin and moved his fingers even harder.

“You’re what? Tell me, baby.” Jude teased her and her back arched. He felt his fingers hurt, but it didn’t matter. Not when she was coming undone in his hands.

“Jude—” she tried to warn again, and he kept moving his fingers, looking at her in the eyes. She struggled to keep them open, trying to keep eye contact.

“Is that everything you know how to say now? My name?” He hit the spot once again and smirked. “I could get used to that.”

Her walls fully clenched around his fingers, and she finally came, seeing stars behind her eyes and leaving a loud moan. It was something she had never experienced so strongly, and she didn’t know if it was because her boyfriend didn’t care about her pleasure or if it was because it was Jude. Maybe the answer was both.

“Fuck.” she muttered, panting. He just smirked, looking into her eyes and leaning away, putting his own fingers in his mouth to taste her.

“Now that’s a very—” his fingers left his mouth with a pop once he made sure to savor the taste. “—very good girl. And a delicious one, if I might add. Could taste you for fucking hours.”

Jude didn’t care if he still had his clothes on. He had a taste of hers, and nothing would stop him now.  If he already couldn’t stop himself before touching, the gods may as well punish him, and it wouldn’t be enough for him to stop.

He kissed her again, making her taste herself before lowering the kisses — from her mouth to the spot under her ear. From her neck to her collarbone. From the valley of her breasts to her stomach. The kisses only lowered. Before he could reach her panties once again, starving, she tugged on her hair.

“No.” She shook her head. “I’m too worked up for you to eat me out. Need more.”

He bit his lip and smirked. As much as he wanted to taste her, he wanted to be inside her. He took off his shirt in a swift move and she sat up, crawling closer to him to kiss him and bite his neck. He felt like his skin was on fire and the bulge on his sweatpants only got harder. He took a deep breath.

“You’re not helping, princess.” He sighed.

“Am I not?” Now it was her time to tease. She straddled him and sat right against his crotch, making him almost roll his eyes. “You should take those sweatpants off.” She said as her hands caressed his abdomen.

He quickly turned the position, now on top of her, and took his sweatpants off.

“Good enough for you, princess?” He whispered, leaning closer.

“Better if you took your underwear off.” She smirked.

“Brat.”

Instead of taking his underwear off, he took her panties off in one single move. A risky one, since he could’ve ripped it from how quickly he took it off. He lowered and admired for a moment.

“Such a pretty pussy. A shame you won’t let me eat you out.” He whispered as he looked at her core, gently touching her puffy clit once again. She was stretched, but not enough. He didn’t pay attention to that when he had his fingers inside her — he just wanted to see her pretty face coming.

“Jude.” She called him out with some urgency, and he sighed.

Maybe the gods couldn’t stop Jude, but she could.

He took his underwear off, only now realizing how painfully hard he was. She watched as his cock sprung out, rigid, leaking with too much precum. He bit his lip and put his hand around his cock, spreading the precum slowly. He knew how sensitive he was right now, and he had to hold it back for her. He lined his member with her entrance and slowly dipped inside her.

She moaned loudly and Jude could feel his breath stopping from how tight she was. He gave her some time to adjust to his size.

“This is too much.” She whined.

“Darling, I’m not even moving.” He replied. “Your boyfriend lacks even in that area? He’s truly useless.”

She would’ve chuckled if she wasn’t having a hard time with the way his cock filled her, the burning sensation from the stretch seeming unending.

“It hurts.”

Jude leaned close to her, their lips almost touching.

“It doesn’t, baby.” He thrusted one time, to make her more used to the movements. “I’m taking the pain away. Just feel me here. That’s all you have to do.” He pressed his hand against her belly and thrusted once again, earning a moan and feeling himself from how big he was.

She could do much better than her boyfriend. He wanted to be the much better.

He started properly moving, hard, fast, desperate for his own release as well. To prove her how much better she could be fucked if he was the one doing it. And each time he hit the spot, he could feel her walls clenching. His hand never left her belly, knowing how deep he was going into her. He couldn’t stop.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and held his hair as his movements became more frenetic, moans dripping from her mouth to his ear with anything he did. He moaned whenever she clenched too hard against him.

“You’re so fucking tight.” he muttered, panting, trying to keep the pace. It was taking all of his willpower to not just come already. She didn’t reply, of course. She was too busy scratching his back and moaning desperately.

His movements became more erratic, slower, and, when her walls clenched around him one last time, he spilled everything inside her and fell to her chest, trying to catch his breath.

“Jude?” She called him out once they could properly speak.

“Yeah?”

“Stay. For the night.” She pleaded softly, caressing his back that were marked by the painting her nails had done.

“I wasn’t planning to go anywhere else, princess.” He smiled at her.

Jude held her against his chest, as she peacefully slept. He leaned his chin on the top of her head and, once he was certain she was sleeping, he sighed.

“I can’t take the pain away because I’m not your man.” Jude whispered. “But I wish I was.”

[xuchiya]

embarassingly cute || park seonghwa || one-shot

|genre: college! seonghwa. college! reader. just pure fluff and embarrassment. |mentions: nothing really.

summary: A simple habit of holding your best friend’s arm to navigate the chaos of the mall takes an unexpected turn. Fifteen minutes pass before you realize your mistake—but by then, it’s not just your arm that’s caught in an unexpected twist of fate.

word count: 1.1k

Malls always felt like mazes to me, with their endless rows of shops, glaring lights, and the constant ebb and flow of crowds. Ever since I was little, I had this habit of wrapping my arm around my friend Sam's whenever we went shopping. It wasn’t just a quirky gesture; it was my anchor, my way of feeling grounded and ensuring I wouldn’t get lost in the chaos.

“You always hold onto me like a little duckling,” Sam would tease, though she never pulled away. She knew how much it meant to me. I hum, looking at her, " 'Cuz you my mama duck." She playfully stuck her tongue out and I pouted, "You love me." 

"Whatever you say, duckling." Today was no different. Sam, along with our other friends, and I had decided to spend a lazy afternoon strolling through the mall. They were busy window shopping whilst I found myself reaching for her arm almost instinctively as we meandered through the crowd, my eyes darting from one store display to the next.

“Look at those shoes!” I gasped, tugging her toward a storefront before I even heard a reply. Sam usually humored me with an indulgent smile or a sarcastic comment about my taste, yet maybe something inside her just sighs and lets me have my ways.

As the minutes stretched on, I felt more comfortable,and my usual habit just casually flowed in, playing her fingers or even intertwining them. The comforting weight of her arm against mine was enough to let my mind wander freely. I kept pointing out pretty signs, dazzling bags, and even an outrageously overpriced pen shaped like a flamingo.

“You’re so quiet today, Sam,” I remarked absently, turning my head briefly to glance at her before being distracted by another sparkling window display. “Are you tired?”

Behind me, I could hear muffled laughter, but I didn’t think much of it. My other friends were always giggling about something or other, not that it worried me or anything but it just made me feel curious as to what made them smile and giggle this much.

“Seriously, what’s so funny?” I huffed, finally glancing back, only to find them walking a few steps behind, their faces red from suppressed laughter.

“Nothing, nothing!” one of them wheezed, her shoulders shaking. I frowned but didn’t press further, figuring it was some inside joke I wasn’t privy to. It wouldn’t be the first time. Instead, I turned back to Sam, still holding her arm, intertwining our hands together as we continued our walk.

“Come on mama duck, let’s head this way!” I chirped, dragging her toward a shop with a dazzling display of keychains in the window. “Look at that! Isn’t it the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?”

Sam didn’t respond, but I barely noticed. My excitement always took over in moments like these. I tugged her inside the shop, oblivious to the amused glances from my friends trailing behind us.

The shop was small and cozy, with racks of colorful trinkets lining the walls. My gaze flitted from one adorable keychain to the next, my grip still firm on her arm. “Which one do you think suits me better—the bunny or the cat?” I asked, holding up two options.

When there was no reply, I glanced up, expecting to see Sam’s teasing smirk or her exaggerated eye roll. Instead, I was met with a shy, startled expression framed by soft black hair and wide brown eyes that definitely did not belong to Sam.

I blinked. Once. Twice.

“Oh no,” I breathed, my heart dropping into my stomach.

It wasn’t Sam. It wasn’t Sam at all.

The realization hit me like a freight train, my mind scrambling to replay the last… fifteen minutes? Oh my gosh, I had been dragging a complete stranger around for fifteen minutes!

“I—I thought—” Words failed me as mortification settled in. I dropped his arm as if it had burned me, stepping back with wide eyes. “You’re not Sam,” I finally managed to squeak out, my voice barely above a whisper.

The stranger—Park Seonghwa, my brain supplied belatedly, recognizing his striking features from our university—gave me a soft, apologetic smile. His cheeks were tinged with a faint pink that mirrored the heat rising in mine. “I tried to tell you,” he murmured, his voice gentle and almost apologetic. “But you seemed really… happy.”

I wanted to sink into the floor and disappear. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” I blurted out, waving my hands as if that could somehow erase the last fifteen minutes. “I wasn’t paying attention, and I just—I thought you were my friend, and—”

“It’s okay,” he interrupted, his voice calm and soothing. “Really. You seemed so excited, I didn’t want to ruin it.”

From behind us, my friends burst into peals of laughter, clearly enjoying my humiliation. “She called him ‘mama duck!’” one of them howled, clutching her stomach.

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “I’m never going to live this down,” I muttered under my breath.

“It wasn’t so bad,” Seonghwa said softly, his tone almost… fond. I peeked at him through between my fingers, surprised to see him smiling—shy but genuine, like he didn’t mind being dragged around the mall by a stranger.

Before I could muster up another apology, the cashier called for me to pay. I quickly handed over the money for the bunny keychain—because of course I’d forgotten all about the cat one—and turned back to Seonghwa, clutching the tiny trinket like a lifeline.

“Here,” I said, thrusting it toward him, placing it on his palm. “Take this. As an apology...”

His eyes widened slightly as he accepted the keychain, holding it as if it were something fragile and precious. “Thank you,” he said softly, his fingers brushing mine for the briefest moment.

The warmth in his gaze caught me off guard, and for a second, the embarrassment melted away, replaced by something softer.

Behind us, my friends were already making plans to roast me for the rest of the day, but before they could drag me away, Seonghwa hesitated.

“Wait,” he said, his voice quiet but firm.

I turned back to him, my heart racing for reasons I couldn’t quite understand.

“Before you go,” he began, his cheeks turning pink again, “Would it… would it be okay if we met again? On purpose this time?”

I stared at him, my brain struggling to process his words.

“You want to hang out?” I asked dumbly, my voice cracking slightly. He nodded, his shy smile widening just enough to make my heart flutter. “If that’s okay with you.”

For a moment, I forgot all about the embarrassment, the laughter, and the teasing. All I could think about was the earnestness in his eyes and the unexpected sweetness of the moment.

“Yeah,” I said finally, a small smile tugging at my lips. “I think I’d like that.”

As I rejoined my friends, their teasing ringing in my ears, I couldn’t help but glance back. Seonghwa was still standing there, the bunny keychain in his hand and a smile on his face that I was pretty sure matched mine.

[antinousletmehit]

˚₊‧꒰ა Chapter 12 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

୨୧┇Telemachus x reader

୨୧┇warning: Telemachus is lowkey hormonal in this

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

Y/n was up against the wall. Her lips moving quickly and hungrily against Telemachus’s. Her delicate hands moving up and down his back, pulling him closer and closer. One of his hands was next to her head, the other gently grasped the back of her head.

“Y/n...” Telemacus breathed, his lips not leaving her skin and moving down her jawline to her neck. He heard her-

Telemachus resisted the urge to violently scream and bang his head against the wall. The boy bent down, opening the trapdoor to the tunnel leading to his mother’s room. His thoughts of Y/n only worsened. No matter where he went, she continued to consume his every waking thought. Even while he was about to visit his mother, he was thinking of extremely inappropriate things he should not be thinking of.

Telemachus crawled through the tunnel, cursing himself along the way. He tried to clear any unholy thought from his head and calmly talked to his mother about his day. Ask her about her weaving and discuss how beautiful the weather had been today. And talk about how he wanted to kiss and adore every inch of-

This is bad.

Telemachus gets to the end of the passageway. He takes a deep breath preparing himself fully for the conversation ahead. He unlatched the trapdoor, and crawled through, wiping off his tunic as he stood. He glanced up and saw his mother straightening up her bed, before she saw her son standing there.

“Hello Telemachus,” Penelope sweetly smiled, “Have you had a good day?”

Telemachus held himself back from saying, “It was more than good.” Instead he responded, “Yeah..yeah..it was..pretty good…How was your day?”

“Oh it was perfectly fine. I weaved for a while before I snuck out to the gardens to tend to the lavender..are you quite alright Telemachus?” Penelope tilted her head, glancing at her son. Telemachus was red in the face, his hands slightly shaking. The mention of lavender seemed to only make his turmoil worsen.

“I can’t take this anymore,” Telemachus yelled, burying his face in his hands, “I kissed her.”

“I’m sorry?” His mother asked in a confused manner.

“I did it, mother. I was mad and I cornered her up against the wall. We went back and forth insulting each other and something just-happened..I just kissed her.” The boy explained, running around like someone had cut off his head.

Trying to understand the situation, she moved closer, “Y/n?”

“Y/N!” He shrieked, “And I can’t get her out of my head. She just...lives there now.” He pulled at his hair to show his point, and he groaned in disgust. The prince quickly turned to face his mother.

“But she’s so gorgeous. Her hair and her face and her eyes. It makes me hate her. I really do hate her for it. I shouldn’t be kissing her. She’s the enemy. I know, I know. I don’t know what got in me. I think I’m mentally ill...but how could anyone blame me? How could you have Y/n...Y/n standing in front of you and not kiss her. Everytime I see her I just want to kiss her and wipe the smug grin off her face. But she doesn’t want me. And I don’t want her. This was an accident. A complete mistake. But she didn’t push me away. She would’ve pushed me away if she didn’t like it right? Y/n makes me so sick-” Telemachus was moving around the room, using his arms for emphasis as he frantically paced. He only stopped when his mother’s hand was over his mouth.

“Please be quiet..for one second.” The queen laughed at her son’s panic. Telemachus took a deep breath and his mother took her hand off of his mouth.

“What do I do?” He quietly said, looking down into his mother’s brown eyes. All his mother did was sigh and put her hand on his shoulder.

Penelope’s hand then moved down to his chest where his heart was frantically beating at even the simple thought of Y/n, “Lead with your heart Telemachus..it’s what you do best.”

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Telemachus lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling as the flickering light of the oil lamp danced across the room. The palace was silent except for the distant murmur of waves crashing against the Ithacan shores. Yet, despite the stillness, his thoughts were anything but calm.

He clenched his jaw and turned onto his side, burying his face in the pillow. Why can’t I stop thinking about it? The memory of Y/N’s lips on his flashed vividly in his mind, soft and sudden and charged with an intensity he hadn’t expected. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the image to fade.

But it didn’t.

Instead, the memory grew more vivid, and before he could stop himself, his mind wandered to the way she’d felt against him, her hand pressed to his chest, her body so close to his that he could feel her warmth. His thoughts turned darker, imagining things he’d never dare admit aloud. His hands on her waist as he ravaged her, wanting to feel her around his—“No!”— He yelled out, shaking his head violently as if he could physically dislodge the images.

“This is insane,” he muttered to himself, rolling onto his other side. His heart pounded, and he felt his face flush despite being alone. He tried counting sheep, thinking of Odysseus’s great adventures, or reciting the Greek tales in his mind, but nothing worked. His thoughts kept slipping back to her, her smirk, her sharp tongue, her teasing remarks, and now, her kiss.

“Stop it, stop it,” he hissed under his breath, throwing an arm over his face. Yet, the more he tried to fight the images, the stronger they became. He rolled again, this time so forcefully that he lost his balance. With a yelp, he tumbled out of bed and landed on the cold stone floor with a dull thud. For a moment, he just lay there, sprawled on the ground, staring up at the wooden beams of the ceiling.

“This is ridiculous,” he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair. His face was burning, his body restless, and his pride thoroughly bruised. He sat up slowly, rubbing his elbow where he’d knocked it against the floor. “Get a grip, Telemachus,” he said to himself, his voice sharp with self-reproach. “She’s just—she’s Y/N. Antinous’s sister. A thorn in my side. Nothing more. The kiss was nothing more than an accident, and I bet she thinks that too.”

But even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t true.

With a frustrated groan, he climbed back into bed, yanking the blanket over his head as if hiding would somehow banish the thoughts plaguing him.

Sleep, however, continued to elude him.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Telemachus paced his room, wringing his hands as his mind waged war against itself. Every logical thought screamed at him to stay put, to push down the chaotic emotions that had been bubbling since the kiss. Yet, the pull of Y/N, her smirk, her sharp tongue, the brief but searing connection they’d shared, was too strong to resist.

Before he could stop himself, he was slipping through the secret passageway, the torch in his hand casting long, flickering shadows against the damp walls. His heart pounded with every step, his breath shallow as he approached the entrance to her room.

He pushed the concealed panel aside quietly, stepping into her dimly lit chamber. She was asleep, her face half buried in her pillow, strands of curly hair splayed out like a halo. For a moment, Telemachus simply stood there, watching her. She seemed so… peaceful, so unlike the sharp tongued tease he argued with daily. But even in sleep, she was Y/N—a force of chaos he couldn’t get out of his mind.

As he took a hesitant step forward, the floor creaked beneath his weight. She stirred, her brows furrowing slightly before her eyes fluttered open. She blinked, her gaze focusing on him in the faint light. “Telemachus?” she murmured, her voice heavy with sleep. She didn’t seem alarmed this time, more confused than anything. “What are you doing here?”

Telemachus froze, his pulse racing. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. “Don’t tell me you’re here to break another vase,” she said, propping herself up on one elbow. Her voice held a familiar teasing lilt, but it lacked the sharp edge he was used to. “If you are, I’d recommend actually trying to break it.”

Her casual tone was the final crack in Telemachus’s resolve. He threw his hands up, his voice loud and raw with emotion. “I can’t stop thinking about you!” Her eyes widened, and she sat up fully, the blanket slipping slightly off her shoulders.

“I can’t sleep, I can’t think, I can’t do anything without you invading my mind,” he continued, pacing in front of her like a man possessed. “You’ve been driving me insane, Y/N! Ever since that kiss—damn it, ever since before the kiss I’ve been losing my mind!”

She opened her mouth to respond, but he didn’t give her the chance. “And I know you don’t care. I know you probably think I’m some foolish little prince who doesn’t know what he wants. But I don’t care anymore.” His voice cracked as he stopped in front of her, looking down at her with an intensity that made her breath catch. “Just let me kiss you one last time, and then I’ll leave. I swear. Just one more kiss.”

The silence that followed was heavy, charged with the weight of his confession. Y/n stared at him, her expression unreadable, her lips slightly parted as if she didn’t know how to respond. Telemachus, trembling and flushed from his outburst, took a step back, running a hand through his hair. “Forget it,” he muttered, his voice thick with frustration and embarrassment. “I’ll go.”

But even as he turned, he couldn’t bring himself to move another step, waiting—hoping—for her to say something. His shoulders slumped in defeat as the weight of his own confession settled over him. His feet felt like lead, but before he could take another step, he felt a hand grab his wrist.

He froze.

“Telemachus,” Y/N’s voice was soft, almost hesitant, so unlike the sharp, teasing tone he was used to. Before he could turn to face her, she tugged on his arm, pulling him back toward her. His balance wavered, and before he knew it, her other hand had slid up to the nape of his neck, pulling him down to meet her lips.

The kiss wasn’t like their first, hurried and impulsive. This one was slower, deeper, and deliberate. It wasn’t just a clash of emotions but an acknowledgment of everything unspoken between them. Telemachus’s breath hitched as he leaned into her, his hands instinctively gripping her waist as if to ground himself. Her touch was firm but not forceful, her lips moving against his in a way that sent his mind spiraling.

When she finally pulled back, just a breath away, her gaze locked onto his. The teasing smirk he’d expected wasn’t there; instead, her eyes were searching, hesitant, as if she wasn’t sure what to say next. “You’re such an idiot,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Telemachus blinked, his heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his ears. “I—what?”

“You burst into my room, ranting like a madman,” she said, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “And then you’re just…going to leave after saying all that?”

He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. “I thought you didn’t care—”

“Maybe you don’t know everything, little wolf,” she interrupted, her hand still resting lightly on his neck. They stood there in silence, the air between them heavy and electric. Telemachus opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it.

“Don’t think too hard about it,” she said, her smirk finally returning as she released him and leaned back against her pillows. “You’ll hurt yourself trying to use that little cute brain of yours.”

Telemachus stepped back, dazed and breathless. “I—uh, I should go,” he stammered, his face flushed. He turned toward the secret passage, his legs unsteady. As he reached the hidden door, his foot caught on the edge of her rug, and he stumbled, nearly falling face first into the wall.

She laughed softly behind him. “Try not to trip over yourself next time, wolf.” He straightened, waving a hand awkwardly as he avoided looking back. “I’m fine!” he called over his shoulder, his voice cracking slightly. “Perfectly fine!”

The door slid shut behind him,

Y/n sighed as she lay back against her pillows, staring at the ceiling. The room felt unusually quiet after Telemachus’s abrupt departure, his flustered stammering still echoing faintly in her ears. She brushed her fingers over her lips absentmindedly, her thoughts swirling in a way she wasn’t used to.

Then, the door to the secret passage creaked open again.

She shot up, her eyes narrowing. “Telemachus?”

Sure enough, there he was, standing awkwardly in the doorway with a sheepish look on his face. His hair was even messier than before, and he avoided her gaze as he stepped into the room, shutting the passage behind him. “Are you serious?” she asked, crossing her arms. “What now?”

“I—I couldn’t leave,” he admitted, his voice quiet but earnest. “I don’t want to leave you, Y/N. Not tonight.” Her expression softened, though she quickly masked it with a raised eyebrow. “What, did you forget how to get back to your room? Or are you just this clingy?”

“I’m serious,” he said, taking a hesitant step closer. “I can’t stop thinking about you, and I don’t want to spend another night lying awake, wishing I were here instead.” She opened her mouth to respond, but the raw vulnerability in his eyes stopped her. For all his usual blustering and self-righteousness, he looked…honest. Lost, even.

She sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Then tell me to leave,” he challenged, his voice trembling slightly. “Tell me, and I’ll go.” Her lips parted, but the words didn’t come. She stared at him for a long moment, and then, with a resigned groan, she patted the space next to her on the bed. “Fine. But just this once.”

Telemachus hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest, before he moved to sit beside her. The bed was warm, and y/n’s presence so close made his thoughts swim.

“Lie down,” she instructed, rolling her eyes. “You look like a kicked puppy standing there.” He did as she said, his body stiff and awkward as he stretched out beside her. She reached for a blanket, draping it over both of them before shifting closer, her arm wrapping loosely around him.

“Are you comfortable now, little wolf?” she asked, her voice tinged with exasperation but also something softer. Telemachus nodded, though his face was burning. “Yeah… thanks.”

For a while, neither of them spoke. Y/N’s hand rested on his shoulder, her breathing slow and steady. Telemachus found himself relaxing despite the storm of emotions in his chest. “Don’t make this a habit,” she muttered sleepily, her head resting lightly against his.

“I won’t,” he whispered, though the thought of leaving her side felt impossible now. Moments later, her breathing deepened as she drifted off, her arm tightening slightly around him. Telemachus, still wide awake, allowed himself a small, fleeting smile before finally succumbing to sleep, feeling a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in weeks.

@procrastination20 @jackiepackiee @barrythestrawberry041 @blessedbyahuntress @f3r4lfr0gg3r

[uas-fics]

Title: Pestering Brothers

Rating: T

Summary: Narinder goes to pester Kallamar at the Healing Bay.

Ships: N/A

Content Warnings: N/A

AO3 Upload

When The Lamb wandered towards Narinder's sunning spot, Narinder pulled his robe's hood down over his face. The Lamb would understand he wished to be left alone to enjoy the nice sun and did not want to be roped into whatever task they had on hand.

The Lamb plopped next to him with a noisy sigh.

Or perhaps not…

"Your older brother is…" they paused momentarily to gather their thoughts, "a bit much."

"You can say 'annoying,'" Narinder grumbled, adjusting his hood so only one of his three eyes peeked out towards The Lamb.

"I said he's 'a bit much,' not 'annoying'."

"Are those not the same?"

"Not the point." The Lamb rubbed their temples with the heel of their palms.

"Then what is the point? If you are here to bemoan your mistake of bringing him to the cult, take it elsewhere. I tried to warn you."

"I'm not." The Lamb jutted out their chin. "I'm being nice and giving you an update how your older brother is doing."

Narinder didn't want any updates on Kallamar. He wanted to lounge in the sun until he had to go prepare the temple for the evening's sermon.

The Lamb said, "Giving you and your siblings specific jobs seems to have helped you all adjust faster to mortal life."

Narinder conceded this fact with a slight nod of his head.

Leshy lived for the drama and fighting he encountered at the drink house. Nearly every other day, his youngest brother had some tale to tell of the night prior where he had to step in and calm down a particularly nasty argument—or goaded the fight into continuing, depending on how he was feeling.

As for Heket, she enjoyed cultivating the garden plants. If Narinder stood up from his sunning spot, he could easily see the sizable pumpkin his sister had been babying for the last month and a half.

"You gave a job to Cowardly Kallamar then?" Narinder smirked. "What do you have him doing? Scaring off birds with his shaking?"

"I brought him to the healing bay," The Lamb explained. "He was the god of sickness, so he must know what helps the sick, too."

Narinder made a noise of agreement, then added, "Let me take a guess: He spent ten minutes bragging about how true that was and telling you that you are a fool for not realizing it sooner?"

The Lamb slumped down into the grass. "Five minutes, but, yes, more or less."

Kallamar was insufferable. He had always been insufferable…and vain and annoying and a coward and--

"He was going through the herbs and tinctures when I left, " The Lamb continued. "I'm sure he will have a list of complaints about what we have and don't have when he is done." They threw their arm over their face with a groan.

Narinder knew he would. Unless Kallamar was in his own temple in Anchordeep, he would criticize and complain about every little thing, from how the bottles were stored to how the poultices were mixed.

Narinder stood, wiping the grass off his robes. "I will go check on him."

He had barely taken a step when The Lamb grabbed his ankle. "Don't go harass him. He needs time to adjust. You all did. Besides, I just brought him back from the dead. I don't want to waste bones doing it again so soon."

With a snort, Narinder pulled his leg away. He adjusted to being in this weak, ungodly body quickly. It only took him a week to remember he had to eat food and drink water every day.

"I won't make him cry," he promised, though he wasn't sure he would be able to keep it.

The Lamb sent a pointed look at Narinder, a wordless warning not to be a jackass.

Kallamar did not know that bothersome lamb had given him a Sisyphean task! Kallamar took a cracked bottle from the shelf and turned it over in his hand. Brittle leaves rattled against each other in the bottle.

Narinder rolled his eyes and started toward the healing bay.

---

It seemed half the bottles Kallamar had pawed through were like that. They were cracked, cloudy, dirty, or all three at once. Much of their contents had turned to dust or evaporated away to nothingness—completely useless!

How did that lamb keep a cult running with their medical supplies in shambles like this?

No wonder it took so long for Kallamar to heal when The Lamb forced him to join their pathetic cult.

Kallamar pinched the cork and pulled. Instead of popping out of the bottleneck, the top of the bottle snapped off at the crack near the base of the neck.

Kallamar looked from one part of the bottle to the other before heaving a sigh. He set the broken bottle top to the side then dumped the leaves into his palm to examine.

Kallamar jumped from the warm breath on his shoulder. The bottom of the bottle fell to the floor and, by some miracle, it didn't shatter.

When he spun around, he found himself face to face with death itself—his little brother, Narinder. No, no, not death. Not anymore. Kallamar had to remind himself that Narinder didn't have the crown. He held no more power than Kallamar, Heket, or Leshy. He was a lowly, earthly follower now.

Narinder raised his eyebrows before pointing back down at Kallamar's hand.

He said something, but Kallamar found himself still too shaken to pay attention enough to see what was said.

"W-what?" He stammered.

"Raspberry leaves," Narinder repeated, pointing again to Kallamar's clenched hand.

Kallamar opened his palm. He had accidentally crushed the dried leaves to dust when Narinder scared him. He wiped the powder off on his robes and did notice the slight scent of raspberry.

"What do you want?" He narrowed his eyes, focusing hard on Narinder's lips.

Without his crown to dampen the blaring tinnitus in his head and strengthen what little hearing he still had, he had to concentrate to understand what anyone said to him. Reading lips and paying attention to the slight sounds he could still pick out was all he could do.

Narinder straightened himself and took a look around the healing bay.

"I was told you were assigned to clean out this old place. I thought you might need some help," Narinder commented idly, as if he had just stepped in for a chat.

Kallamar knew better than that.

"I don't want your help."

He didn't want Narinder anywhere near him.

Kallamar turned around to the table to continue to sort through the bottles, boxes, and satchels of medicine. He had hoped that his curt reply would drive Narinder off, but instead of leaving, Narinder moved to sit on the bed, the least musty thing in the whole place. He stretched, yawned, then laid back with his eyes shut.

Of course, Narinder would not leave. Narinder never listened to Kallamar before, why would he start now? At least before, Kallamar could retreat to the safety of Anchordeep and his temple when Narinder antagonized him. Now Kallamar was stuck in this pathetic, little base, in this pathetic, little body with no powers, no followers, and no place to go.

He gritted his teeth.

No, he was not going to let Narinder get to him. They were not gods anymore. Narinder was not death and Kallamar was not blight. Narinder was just Kallamar's annoying and pestering little brother now, nothing more.

The medical bay's bed was comfortable, if a little too cool for Narinder's taste. If the bed was pushed towards the door and the warm sun, then it would be an excellent new napping spot. The Lamb wouldn't be able to find him as quickly and make him 'get back to work' or whatever other nonsense they ordered.

He had to just ignore him. If he focused on his task at hand, he could do that with ease.

---

He sprawled, listening to the clinks of bottles as Kallamar worked. Every so often he would hear a mumble "What is this?" or a groan of frustration.

Narinder considered holding a one-sided conversation, mostly to annoy Kallamar when he finally noticed he was doing it, but decided against it. Just staying there after he was told he wasn't wanted was enough to mess with Kallamar. To Narinder's pleasure, he had noticed a tenseness in Kallamar's movements and the occasional glances at Narinder when he thought he wouldn't notice.

Narinder rolled so his head lay off the side of the bed. He looked upside down at Kallamar.

Much like his younger siblings, when The Lamb hauled Kallamar from his torment in purgatory, they left all of his thousands of years of divinity behind. The air of godly power that somehow clung to Kallamar, despite his cowardly nature, evaporated when Kallamar fell face-first onto the indoctrination circle. How sickly and weak he looked then, barely able to hold his head up as an odd green color painted his face. The weakling spent days on bed rest before he was able to stand again.

Narinder almost laughed at the memory.

Kallamar took a wooden box from the counter and shook it. Pursing his lips, he pried the lid off. With a puzzled expression, he tipped over the box until the contents fell out to the tabletop. Kallamar carefully picked up something wrapped in paper and herbs. He pulled away at the wrapping before gagging.

Narinder rolled over to his belly and pushed himself up to his knees.

He cringed and dropped the bundle back in the box.

"Why?!"

"What? What is it?" he asked, but Kallamar didn't respond. Instead, he held his face in his hands and groaned.

Narinder frowned. He took the pillow from the bed and threw it. Kallamar jumped when it hit his side and said a swear in a language no mortal spoke anymore.

When Kallamar turned to glare, Narinder repeated, "What is in the box?"

A smirk crossed Kallamar's face as he returned the lid with a sound tap.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"I would. That is why I asked."

Kallamar hummed in reply and set the box to the side. He proceeded to pop the top off of a cloudy bottle and give it a sniff, completely ignoring Narinder.

Narinder bristled with annoyance. He came here to mess with Kallamar, not to be messed with.

Narinder jumped to his feet and started towards Kallamar and the box. Kallamar snatched the box, holding it to his chest. Narinder stomped his foot down, knowing the vibrations through the floor would be enough to scare that coward into losing his grip.

A sharp pain shot up his leg from the sole of his foot. With a cry, he hopped back, lost his balance, and fell to his back.

He bit his tongue to hold back a cry, trying to force his head to stop spinning so he could focus on the stabbing pain in his foot. He hauled himself to the bed before he set his foot propped up on his other knee.

Glass and crushed raspberry leaf clung to his bloody foot.

It's from the bottle Kallamar dropped earlier, he realized. Kallamar had been so busy pretending to ignore him, that he never picked it back up.

An instinct Narinder usually ignored reared its head. With pain and annoyance on its side, the primal urge beat any rational thought. Narinder stuck his tongue out to lick clean the wound.

Kallamar grabbed him by the cheeks and forced his face up.

"Are you stupid? Do you want glass in your tongue, too?" He snapped.

Though Narinder knew he was right, he huffed in defiance and looked to the side.

Kallamar pulled his hands away. He carefully picked his way through the remaining shards and started rifling through items on the table. He hoped Kallamar would leave to find The Lamb or their younger siblings for help, but Kallamar returned a moment later and sat next to Narinder.

He held out his hand.

"Let me see your foot," he ordered.

Narinder snorted. "No. I will be fine." He pinched the largest piece of glass between his fingers and sharply pulled. A hiss of pain slipped from his teeth.

"Fine." Kallamar sniffed. "Get an infection, die of sepsis. I do not care what happens to you, anyway." Kallamar dropped the items he'd brought in a heap next to Narinder. Narinder stared at the blood dripping down his foot.

An infection? He couldn't remember when he had last had one, but he could remember the infections and sepsis he saw in his followers, the burning flesh, the oozing pus, and the writhing pain they were in until Narinder ended their suffering.

He groaned. Before Kallamar could get out of reach, Narinder grabbed his robes.

He didn't speak; he just met his older brother's eyes for the heartbeat his pride would allow.

For an instant, Kallamar looked fearful and untrusting, but his expression shifted to one of annoyance.

The bloody glass shard clinked against its brethren on the red stained cloth.

"You've always been such a pest," Kallamar grumbled, taking Narinder's hand off his robe.

---

Kallamar bend down to the bowl of steaming water he'd rush to the kitchen to get. He didn't dare light the fire pit in the medical bay to boil water. Whoever had been keeping the bay up before Kallamar had put baskets of vomit stained blankets right next to the pit. Some of the blankets had even spilled into the ring of stones, and Kallamar refused to touch something so disgusting with a new body so susceptible to illness.

He took a cloth rag from the bowl and rung the water out before pressing it to Narinder's foot. He would need to stitch up some of the gashes, but the skin had to be clean before he made any attempts.

Narinder hissed through his teeth.

"Oh, do not act like a baby." Kallamar rolled his eyes.

Narinder glowered, attempting to sit up from his back, but Kallamar lifted his foot up higher.

"This needs to stay above the level of your heart."

Narinder huffed and laid back down.

"I've seen you cut in half before. This should be nothing to you." Kallamar returned the foot to his lap.

"Being cut in half doesn't hurt," Narinder retorted, crossing his arms over his chest.

A bellowing laugh burst from Kallamar's chest, making Narinder jump.

"You are a dirty liar. It does hurt--a lot. " Kallamar moved the rag away from the foot. He gave Narinder's foot one last wipe and a good look for any more glass before dropping the rag next to the glass pile.

As he picked out the needle from the bottom of the water bowl, he continued, "Your usurper cut me in half the first time they killed me." He pointed the needle to the top of his head and drew it down to his belly

He had fought for his life, sending wave after wave of curses and minions and Anchordeep beasts to kill that vile creature masquerading as a god of death. He accomplished his task twice before The Lamb came back a third time, accompanied by two small demons and a glowing, godly axe. It was this axe that the Lamb slew him with, striking him when he took less than a second to breathe. The Lamb sliced through his flesh and bone, leaving blood and pain in the axe's wake.

To add insult to injury, as Kallamar lay dying, he watched as a third demon came flying in, bringing with it a spirit heart for the victorious lamb.

"Foul, terrible, cruel creature…" he muttered, shaking his head.

Kallamar tied a knot in the silk thread. He had always preferred the use of catgut to close wounds, but dried intestines were among the many other materials The Lamb's medical tent lacked. He didn't bother to warn Narinder of the pain as he stabbed the needle into the soft flesh.

Narinder bit down hard on his lip as Kallamar worked to close the largest of the gashes. Kallamar took another rag from the side of the water bowl and wiped away the new blood.

If Narinder attempted to speak to him while he worked, Kallamar couldn't tell. His focus lay solely on closing the wounds. He felt calm, the most calm he'd felt since being indoctrinated into this blasted cult. Patching up wounds was his second nature.

As he pulled tight the last stitch on the final large wound, he saw Narinder's jaw moving out of the corner of his eye.

"What? Do you need to cry? Does it hurt worse than being cut in half?" Kallamar mocked.

He tied off the thread without having to look at his hands. He knew taking stitches without any type of numbing hurt, but he didn't want to give Narinder any pity.

Narinder made a rude gesture towards Kallamar with his middle finger.

"Lucky for you, I am all done sewing you up," Kallamar said, twisting the lid off a glass jar. Inside was the saddest excuse for a wound poultice Kallamar had seen in centuries -- there wasn't even any flax in it—but it would have to do to keep the wound moist and protected from dirt.

Narinder said something, but Kallamar was too busy slathering on the poultice to catch it. He set it aside and went for the bandages before turning his attention to Narinder's face.

"Hmm?"

Narinder opened his mouth, then shut it a heartbeat later. He looked away and shook his head.

Kallamar shrugged and started to wrap up Narinder's foot. As he worked, a thought came to him. He'd never dressed any of Narinder's wounds before then. Even before they sealed him away, Kallamar had never had to step in and suture closed gashes or apply honey and bandages to scrapes on him, unlike the rest of their siblings.

With how many fights Heket tended to pick, she was the worst of them, though Leshy was a close second since he liked to join Heket in her scuffles. Though uncommon, even Shamura had to be patched up when they underestimated the army or god they waged war against.

Narinder never needed wounds shut or a poultice applied. He would not scar. His wounds would not fester. He would die and bring himself back before that could happen.

Suddenly annoyed, Kallamar pulled the bandage a little too tight—not enough to cut off blood flow, but enough to be uncomfortable.

Kallamar lifted Narinder's foot from his lap and scooted out before dropping it unceremoniously back down.

"There. Done, " he said, tying up the cloth with the glass shards. He took them to a pile of old and broken containers he'd made earlier to throw out. He grabbed a straw broom and quickly swept the remaining glass on the floor into a pile. He was not going to risk having to use any of this cult's medical supplies on himself, not until The Lamb had replaced them with items of higher quality, at least.

Narinder moved his foot into his lap to examine the bandaging. An odd expression crossed his face, guilt or sadness, maybe? Kallamar didn't have time to dwell on it before that complete fool swung his legs out and attempted to stand.

Narinder yelped and fell back onto the bed.

"I will see about getting you some help to hobble back to your quarters." Kallamar waved his hand. "The sooner you are gone, the better for me."

He expected a snarky retort or another rude gesture, not for Narinder to smile softly at him.

"You know, I have seen you throw around your plagues and spread your miasma thousands of times," he mused. "I always found sickness a terrible way to die. There is no honor or glory in succumbing to a fever. It's pathetic."

Kallamar bristled, wishing he had tied the bandage even tighter.

Narinder chuckled. "Thousands of times," he repeated. "Thousands of thousands, even, but I only ever saw you cure sickness one time." He held up his pointer finger. "One of Shamura's soldiers brought back some sort of terrible illness, a cough that racked the body and fever that brought delirium, " Narinder recalled. "Shamura summoned me to help those that they knew would not make it pass on peacefully."

"I remember you actually scolded Shamura," Narinder shook his head, "and told them they should have called you sooner. That they know better than to let sickness spread."

Kallamar furrowed his brow. He vaguely recalled that. It was thousands of years ago, possibly more than that. Well before Heket or Leshy joined their family at the least, back when Narinder was the youngest bishop and Kallamar held less fear of him.

"You cured that whole army with ease, soothing their fevers and easing their coughs with merely a wave of the hand." Narinder met Kallamar's eyes. "I was jealous, you know."

"What?" Kallamar gasped. "You were jealous of me healing some mortal soldiers?"

There was plenty Kallamar could understand Narinder being jealous of, including his good looks, the glory of his temple, and the majestic beauty of Anchordeep, but that? Something so simple?

"I could only end suffering. I could not ease it nor erase it." Narinder looked at his hands, his eyes heavy with sorrow. "That has not changed, I'll admit."

Kallamar's chest twisted uncomfortably. How could Narinder have admire his abilities? Admired him? It made no sense.

He looked away, more emotions pulling at his heart. He should still be mad. It shouldn't matter what Narinder said. Kallamar should still hate him…

No, he never hated Narinder. He was scared of him, angry that his cult swelled while Kallamar's waned, upset about his handsome ears and hearing loss, saddened by chaining Narinder up for a thousand years, but he never actually hated him.

Kallamar had his head turned away and was uncharacteristically quiet.

Kallamar blinked at the tears welling up in his eyes, but despite his best effort, they overflowed and ran down his cheeks.

---

Narinder pursed his lips. He knew he shouldn't have said that, but the pain brought old memories to the surface and loosened his tongue.

A sniffle brought Narinder out of his thoughts. He winced as he saw Kallamar wipe his eyes with his wrist.

The one thing he had promised The Lamb he wouldn't do, make Kallamar cry.

He turned his attention to his lap, pretending he didn't hear anything. Kallamar stepped forward until his feet were in Narinder's line of sight.

"I have two little brothers and you are by far the worst of them," Kallamar stated matter-of-factly. "You are egotistical and annoying and a pain in my ass."

Narinder glared upwards, about to make a retort, when Kallamar continued, "However, you are still my brother, and it is clear we are stuck with each other here from now on. We should at least try to get along. Here. Fulfill your curiosity, Nari." He shoved the wooden box into Narinder's hands.

Narinder skeptically shook the box once before opening it. He took the object wrapped in brittle paper and herbs from inside and slowly pulled the paper back.

Inside was a dried, wrinkled, black-and-white spotted--

"By The First God's wounds!" Narinder yelped, dropping the bundle back into the box. Though he hadn't touched the dried flesh, he wiped his hands on his robes regardless.

"Is this a--?" He wrinkled his nose up.

Kallamar cackled. "A charm to increase male potency, yes. The wive's tale goes if one sleeps with a bull's manhood under their pillow it'll help them, well, you know." He clicked his tongue twice and jabbed his thumb up.

Narinder dropped the box as far from him as he could on the bed. He did not know why The Lamb had such a thing, and he did not want to ask.

"Disgusting. " He shuddered. "That can't possibly work."

"Oh, it doesn't," Kallamar shrugged, "but it is not the strangest 'remedy' for that particular problem I have come across. Once, some mortal brought me the foulest concoction I have ever seen, and claimed that was why he and his wife had so many children." Kallamar met Narinder's eyes with a serious expression. "They were rabbits."

The brothers held each other's gazes for a moment longer before their lips started to pull up and they both burst into laughter.

Kallamar wiped fresh tears from his eye. "Narinder…here." He held out his hand. "Let me help you back to your quarters. I'll have someone bring you some tea to help with the pain. I definitely saw some willow bark…somewhere in this mess." He gestured with his head to the table of herbs.

Narinder took his big brother's out stretched hand.

"Thank you, Kallamar."

---

AN:This was techically my first COTL fic, but I didn't finish editing it until recently. Also I have next to no medical knowledge, so those parts might be wrong.

[mcu-fan-fics-blog]

Duty Before Love i

Summary: Kate struggles to find a balance between her old life and her new very real reality of becoming an Avenger. Will you fit in her new life... The real question is if there would be space for her in yours.

Kate Bishop x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 3133 aprox

A/n: Hello everyone!!! This is a little story I've been toying with for a while. I think I've finally gotten it to a place where its not complete trash. I hope you guys enjoy it! If you did please let me know leave a like!

Bishop security was big, there was no denying it. Both Eleanor and Kate had good things going for them. The younger bishop however had no interest in her mother’s achievements. She loved her mother, but if she was at any event that had anything to do with bishop security,  it was because of pure obligation. She hadn’t yet succumbed to the weight of the legacy her mother was building for her. “Oh come on y/n” And there it was, her and her incessant complaining. “Let’s just leave, no one will notice.” You laughed at her statement. “No one will miss you!” You said chuckling. She gasped feigning offense. “What it’s true! You’ve never stuck around, so people don’t expect you to.” She nodded smugly trying to prove her point. “Unlike you people expect me to show up.” She grumbled. “I know what I need to do to fulfill my role, Kate. I’ll have to step up sooner or later.” She sighs loudly. “You sound just like my mother.” It made you laugh. “Well, maybe you should listen to her from time to time.” She didn’t laugh. 

“You know that I’ll never be that.” She picked at her fingers. “I’m never going to be that.” It was your turn to bite your tongue. “Clint and I just barely started making progress, real progress!” you flinched at the mention of the name. You sympathized with Kate she was your best friend how could you not? But sometimes that’s what it meant to be a good friend—keeping your friends from the wrong paths. All she was doing was denying her reality. “I get all of that but all you’ve really been doing is putting yourself in danger.” She huffed already knowing where you were going. “You’re going to get yourself killed in some obscure and tragic way! And I’ll never be able to get over it.” 

This wasn’t the first time you and Kate had this conversation and you can already see the irritation building in her. “Can’t you just be happy that I’m doing what I love? That I’d die doing what I love!” How she said it irked you, and her insinuation made that annoyance triple. She’d realized her mistake as soon as the words came out of her mouth and saw your features falter. “Do you even realize how that sounds? You sound like some privileged adrenaline junkie that has nothing better to do with their life.” As much as your words had stung Kate realized she’d pushed you over the edge and took the brunt of the jab. Taking a deep breath, she collected her thoughts. “Look I didn’t mean it, not…” You cut her off, a peeved expression still on your face. “Don’t bother we both know you meant what you said.” 

“I’m sure it’ll bring your mom so much comfort knowing you died, well at least she died doing what she loved!” You scoffed. You both knew loss you both knew grief, so it didn’t make sense how she could be so careless about her life! “Whatever, you should leave I’m not stopping you.” You left Kate fumbling for words. And moved to your designated seat the gala was barely getting started and you had many people to greet and talk to. You shook your head when you managed to catch Eleanor’s eye. You watch as she pursed her lips and nodded dismissively. She walked towards you pulling you into a quick hug. “Thank you for giving her a fight but, you don’t have to. I know it’s hard on you.” She said sympathetically. You nodded and gave her a small smile, Kate lingered in your mind for the rest of your night.

Days had passed and you hadn’t reached out to Kate. You wish it could be that easy, but when it came down to Kate it was always so hard to put down the the pride. She knew it as well as you did. Hence why she hadn’t done it either. Eleanor however had other plans it seemed she called late for a very early impromptu meeting. You agreed somewhat apprehensively. You were surprised when you didn’t see Kate in the waiting room the surprise didn’t last long. You were called into her office rather quickly. You watched as Eleanor stood from her desk ready to greet you. “Y/n, so happy you could make it!” You moved to greet her and returned the hug she offered. “Me too… uhm” you couldn’t hide the confusion. “I just thought Kate was going to be here. She nods smiling. “She did mention a disagreement… fight.” She corrected. “Unfortunately Kate is obsessed with that man and the Avengers.” You nodded. “I’ve tried Mrs.Bishop I just can’t dissuade her.” Another smile spreads on her face. 

“I know Y/n, you won’t have to worry about that much longer.” Her words confuse you, she can tell. “I only mean that everything will fall into place.” She rephrased. You nodded. “Well now on to why you’re here.” You nod. There’s a knock at the door. “Your ten o’clock is here would you like me to tell her to wait?” Eleanor shook her head. “Send her in.” You move to leave her office but her hand stops you in your tracks. “This is why I called.” A small oh leave your mouth and you sit back down. “Y/n this is Yelena, she’s the daughter of a board member she is in town for the holidays, and needs someone to show her around.” You smile and greet the girl. “I told them Kate would show her around but seeing as my daughter… well I thought who better than y/n.” You smile at her consideration. She turns to Yelena. “Y/n she’s like my second daughter. You couldn’t be in better hands.” Yelena smiles. “I can believe it.” Her subtle accent makes you smile. 

Eleanor moves back to her desk. “Well, girls I’ll let you go, have fun.” You smile and wave goodbye. Before you completely manage to walk out the door you hear her call out. “Y/n I’ll handle Kate, don’t hold it against her.” You falter at her words, but you still nod. As soon as you’re out you look at the girl next to you and smile. “So what would you like to see first?” She laughs. “That’s why I’m here, for you to show me around!” You laugh. “Okay, okay I know exactly where to take you.” She smiles and nods. “Please, lead the way.” 

It had been three days since, and Kate still hadn’t reached out and you weren't necessarily itching to do it. “I ordered pizza, hope you don’t mind.” Yelena interrupted your inner thoughts. You chuckled shaking your head. “It’s perfect I was getting hungry.” She smiled and plopped down next to you. You and Yelena had hit it off and had been inseparable the last couple of days. You were laughing at the TV when you were interrupted by a knock on the door. Yelena jumped to open the door exited the pizza had finally gotten there. It’s only when she doesn’t immediately close the door that you move to see what the hold-up was. “So you’re not the pizza delivery?” You hear Yelena’s confused voice. “What are you doing here Kate?” She shuffles a little before answering your question. “Well we didn’t really leave on good terms last time we saw each other, and I was coming to talk things out.” Then her eyes shift to Yelena in front of you. “But uhm… I can see that you’re busy, and we can talk about this later.” Her eyes are still on Yelena. Before you could even put the words together Yelena beat you to it. “Yes, that's probably for the best.” She said glancing back at you. “Here’s the money for the pizza thanks.” She took the pizza and walked into the apartment leaving you at the door. 

You can see the questions in Kate's eyes and you just shake your head. “We should talk soon, tomorrow?” Kate nodded and walked off. You closed the door softly and sighed. It was for the best that you didn’t talk to Kate right at that moment you didn’t even know what to say. You walked towards the kitchen and sat in front of Yelena at the table. “Now that was more interesting than everything you showed me.” She teased, and it made you laugh. “By far 10/10 would recommend it again, I mean the tension… off the charts!” You scoffed. “We went to all the places you wanted to see! I took you to all the stupid tourist places!” She laughed at that “I have to say you were an amazing tour guide.” She cheesed. “I’m guessing that’s Kate?” You nod taking a bite of your pizza, humming at the taste. “She doesn’t look like a walking death wish… I actually don’t know what I expected.” And just like that Yelena moved on. “Movies?” You smiled grateful for her tact. 

Kate's mind was reeling, who was that woman, and why did she look so comfortable in your apartment? She was too distracted by the idea that she failed to notice her mother waiting at her door. “Kate I’ve been waiting for you!” She said cheerfully. Her eyes sparkled. Kate tried to match her mother’s smile but failed. “I’m sorry I swung by y/n’s place like you said. You know to talk things over… She had company.” Her mother tapped her forehead. “I forgot I had y/n and Yelena meet up! I’m glad that they hit it off!” Kate was flabbergasted. “You set y/n up, why?” Her mother shook her head in denial. “I did not set her up! I just had a feeling that they would hit it off.” Kate could not believe the words coming from her mother’s mouth. Anger started to creep in. “And what feeling was that exactly?” Her mother paid no mind to her thinly veiled anger. “That they would get along y/n is a good girl and someone like Yelena would be good for her.” She reasoned. Kate swore she saw red. 

“So you did set her up!” Her tone was now raised and clipped. “Kate I didn’t tell her to sleep with the girl if that’s what you’re asking!” Kate felt a pang in her chest. “Now my question is why you’re so upset about it?” Kate scoffed. “Now that is something I’m very interested in.” She ignored Kate’s indignation. “I’m not!” She said defensively. “I just think it is odd that you are meddling in her love life.” It wasn’t just about that. Everything about you being with that woman felt wrong, fundamentally. “Well, it shouldn’t she is practically my daughter, one who by the way listens and actually uses my advice!” Kate scoffed. “We both know why that is.” Kate spat. She regretted the words as soon as she said them. She had a habit of not thinking things through. Her mother winced her eye twitching not giving in to the obvious provocation. “I know you, you will hurt her…” Kate’s eyes widened. Her throat suddenly dry she sputtered trying to find the words. “Y/n and I… we- we haven’t…” 

“No, you haven’t, and it should stay that way.” Kate was again left speechless. Her mother continued. “Y/n holds a very important position in our board of investors, I’d rather keep things clean and uncomplicated.” She punctuated. “To keep her on my side.” Her tone was clinical. Kate scoffed. “It is clear that she won’t make you choose. So I will.” Then suddenly the air was pulled out of her chest. “You’ll lose her either way! Do you truly believe y/n will stick around to watch you throw your life away!” Her mother spoke, Kate had never seen her mother like this. “You have no right to do this! This is my life!” Her mother shook her head. “That’s where you’re wrong the moment you decided to put your life in danger, was the moment that as your mother I decided to step in! I have every right…” Kate was pacing at this point. Her fingers were on her temples. “So you’re making me choose?” Eleanor nodded. Kate scoffed calling her mother’s bluff. “You don’t have that kind of power, not over me not over y/n .” Her mother sighed. “Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. Why don’t we find out?” With that, the older woman walked away from her. Her words left Kate cold. She shook the thought away you wouldn’t play into her mother’s hand, would you? 

The thought continued to eat at Kate the following days. It had been three days now that you had pushed your meet up. Three days that felt like weeks to her. Her mother was using you against her in the worst way possible. She knew, how she felt and still felt comfortable putting her in that position. She was not going to let it slide any longer. She was at your door again her fist raised to knock on your door. Only this time she didn’t have to, it opened before her hand could touch the wood. “Oh, Kate!” Your tone surprised. “Are- were you going somewhere?” Kate stuttered. “To find you actually…” you said a small smile playing on your lips. Kate’s heart fluttered in her chest, nodding as you let her walk in and get settled. “Can we talk?” Kate’s tone was soft but serious. You nodded softly. Kate sighed relieved. Just as she was about to speak you beat her to it. “I’m sorry.” Kate froze. What? “I’ve realized I can’t force you to stop doing things, even if I really want to I just can’t.” Your words were sincere. Kate was at a loss for words. She wasn’t going to mention it but she was ready to have it out with you again. She had prepared for it even, she was slightly disappointed about that. “Yelena pointed out to me that I was being a shitty friend, and she was right.” You just had to keep speaking… Just like that, she was annoyed again. “Who- who even is she?” Kate asked probing your response. “Uhm your mom didn’t tell you?” You questioned. Kate shook her head. “Your mom introduced us, she’s also going to be a part of the board.” 

It was only then that she reasoned her mother was not bluffing. This made too much sense. Having you and Yelena in her pocket would work out for her mother. She hated to say it but it was a smart move. Kate managed a small “cool” as she ruminated on the thought. “You two have gotten very close.” She wasn’t asking you realized. You nodded. “She’s a good person.” Kate almost scoffed. “One could argue I’m a better person! I could save the world one day.” She said smugly. “That’s if you don’t get yourself killed before then, sure.” The reply was waiting to come out she realized, and she grimaced. Kate backtracked. “How about a movie?” She reasoned and you couldn’t deny her, you did miss her. “I have time for one.” You said glancing at your watch. She smiled and got comfortable on your couch laying her head on your lap. She sighed all was right again. Truth be told Kate paid no mind to the movie once your fingers started running through her hair she knew there was no point in trying to keep up. Then you had to open your pretty mouth. “Kate I have to go.” The credits were now rolling on the screen. “Kate come on I really do… you can come with if you’d like?” She was eager to. “Where to?” She questioned. “Yelena wanted to volunteer at a soup kitchen… she saw it in a movie and wanted to do it.” 

There was a look of what you could only say was pure dissatisfaction. Your answer was not something she liked in the least bit. You’re both interrupted by Kate’s ringing phone. “Clint” you hear her mutter getting up from your lap and walking a short distance away. When she turns back your shoes are on and keys in your hand ready to leave. An expectant look on your face. “I- uhm duty calls.” She said uncertainly pointing to her phone. “Figured…” a displeased look on your face, which did not go unnoticed. Before she could address it you were halfway to the door. “Let yourself out, I’m going to be late! Lock up…” She could only watch as you did. You stopped suddenly at the now open door. “Be careful.” She couldn’t even reply you stepped out and closed the door behind you. You were gone again.

The following days were rough on Kate. Dealing with the ever-growing problem with Clint, fighting, and training. On top of that dealing with her mother, she was having a hard time compensating. Most grueling of all you were giving her the cold shoulder. Her mother had been directly working against her on that front, so she wasn’t too surprised. She however should’ve known her mother was willing to take it further. You were too nice to completely blow off Kate. So here you both were having family dinner with her mother. “You know y/n Yelena has spoken very highly of you, her father was very pleased to hear it!” You smiled softly your cheeks dusting a shade of pink. All of which didn’t go unnoticed. “She’s fun to hang out with, she gets me… shares my work ethic. She’s ambitious like few are these days.” Eleanor’s eyes shift to Kate a brow raised knowingly. “That is so good to hear y/n!”

The following words made Kate seethe internally cursing her mother. “You know y/n now that I think about it… Your parents met at around your age.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Mom…” Kate cut in. “I think you are right,” you said ignoring Kate’s interruption. Eleanor chuckles taking a small sip from her wine turning her attention back to her daughter. “They would make a cute couple, don’t you think Kate?” Her mother was not holding back, she was not willing to play into her hand. Still, she replied. “Y/n would make a cute couple with literally anyone… Put her next to the ugliest person on earth and she’d cancel out the ugly.” You chuckled at her thought. “Thanks, Kate.” Kate froze for a second you’d acknowledged her. She shook her head. “But Y/n barely knows this girl. She should take her time.” And somehow you were still smiling. “I am… taking my time.” Your eyes were far away. Perhaps your thoughts as well.

A/n: Surprise shawty!!! Happy New Year. This has been sitting in the drafts for a hot minute, please let me know If y’all liked and would like to see a second installment. First time really delving into Kate kinda rough ngl. I have another installment of remember a time, it’s done should be up next week. Abstract love is still in development you’ll get some more angst and of course cuteness ensues. As always have a great day and know you’re loved!

[leaawrites]

I can’t tell you the way I feel

Liam Gallagher x fem!reader

Summary: when Liam takes on a dare from his friends, he doesn't believe of finding himself making the biggest mistake in his life.

Warnings: suggestive content, allusions to sex, angst, Liam being a dumb cunt

Wordcount: 1.6k

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4, Masterlist

Waking before Liam did meant she had all of his peace to herself. No thought in his mind disturbing them, nobody around that could harm them. It was just their two bodies, tangled in love and sheets.

Reluctantly she began tracing the outline of his face. Her finger moving over his jaw, his lips, down his adam’s apple and over his collarbone. Softly tracing the bone that was stretching his skin towards her, calling for her.

Focused on her finger and how it found it’s way so effortlessly over his body, she didn’t notice Liam’s eyes opening. Confused at first, though softening when seeing her by his side. His arm tightening around her waist, pulling her closer. The sheet covering her chest falling down, exposing her cold skin to his warm one.

“Morning, love,” he greeted her, leaving a soft kiss on her lips. His voice raspy and still lower than she’d ever heard it before.

“Morning,” she answered back, a slight heat rising up her neck and rushing to her cheeks the longer he looked at her. His eyes never wavering from her own gaze, fixated on him.

Drawing small circles on her hips, he smiled as she took his other hand in hers, intertwining their fingers. Slowly leaving a trail of kisses up his arm, over his chest and on his neck, he let out a soft groan in reaction. His nose pressed against her shoulder, inhaling the scent of her bare skin.

Her soft lips gently sucked against the flesh under his ear. Giggling against his skin when she felt his arms around her waist tighten. His hands squeezing her hips.

Two bare chests pressed against each other, falling and rising in sync. Breathing as one.

“Wait, love. Stop.” His voice sounded desperate, like she hurt him. Soft, gentle kisses pierced a dagger through his heart, every single one a mark now on his skin. A reminder of his sin.

Bagging away slightly, she draped the sheet over her chest again. Looking at him with wide eyes, fear soothing through her that she’d done something wrong. Was it too much? Was it not good enough?

Seeing the look in her eyes, thoughts clearly spiraling through her head, he couldn’t form a good excuse. What seemed so easy with everyone else felt like a burden with her. Normally he’d say something like, ‘I promised my mum to be home already’ or ‘I should go, not that your parents find out’. But now, lying seemed to be too harmful.

“I need to -” he started talking, his finger pointing outside the window.

“You need to go?” Finishing his sentence for him, he nodded his head, shameful looking down, not catching the eye roll and sarcastic grin on her face before it disappeared again just as quickly as the realization came. Of course it was all just for a quick laugh with his friends. It was Liam Gallagher, for fucks sake. “I hope I’m not keeping you from going.”

Picking up her shirt and underwear from the floor, she quickly put them on, before walking over to the other side of the room and taking his clothes as well, throwing it his way before walking out the door.

A, “Wouldn’t dare to,” falling from her lips as she slammed the door shut behind her.

Still leaning on his elbows, Liam stayed like this as if he was frozen. The shower went off in the other room and that was when it hit him. He fucked it up completely. Throwing his head into the soft pillow he let out a groan. How could he not even find a good excuse to make it less shameful to walk out of her house?

He deserved it though, he decided ultimately as he found himself back out on the street, walking with his head low. He totally deserved it.

Unlike her.

Head leant against the door of the bathroom, she waited until she could hear the front door close before turning off the shower and letting the water from her eyes flow down her face. Of course he didn’t mean anything he said. Why did she even let him invite her to the gig anyway? Why did she have to go too?

When his body rushed towards her the night before, eyes lighting up as he found her and excitement being written all over his face, she believed that - maybe, somehow - Liam Gallagher wasn’t as much of a twat as she always assumed he was.

Though female intuition is barely ever wrong and that’s what she should’ve been listening to. Not the hammering of her heart or the lovesick thoughts in her brain for finally being seen by someone as more than just another face. It was her own fault.

Noel sat in the living room, feet propped up on the coffee table, eyes fixated on the telly, though he noticed when Liam walked in, the heavy stomp of his feet being too familiar.

Falling down in the seat next to him, a beer now in his hand, he popped open the can and starred at the people talking too. Neither acknowledging each other more than with their mind.

Until Noel spoke, “You weren’t too shite.”

“Thanks.” Taking another large sip, he tried ignoring his brother as much as he could.

“Though the songs sound like they’re written by a toddler. Did you write them then?” Noel was sure Liam would throw the telly at him as he said that with his sour mood, though he only chuffed, sinking further into the cushion. Trying to escape from this conversation. He knew where it would lead to.

“Not everything that’s shite in your mind is from me, alright? Cunt.”

Noel’s brows furrowed, why wasn’t he trying to strangle him yet?

“I’m not too opposed to the idea of joining anymore,” he tried it differently, trying to make his mood lighten.

“Cheers, mate. Gonna tell the others then.” His voice staying monotone and unwavering. Nothing could be a worse conversation topic at the moment in his opinion.

“Your bird’s fit.”

Jinx.

“She’s not my bird,” Liam tried, his voice growing defensive. Molding in the same tone that he had when talking to ehr the first time.

“So, she’s free?” Noel asked back, quite enjoying how deep in denial his brother was. Finally, Liam’s eyes snapped over to him, filled with horror and disgust.

“If you even try something, I swear-” before he could talk further, Peggy came in, a grocery bag in each hand.

“Would you boys stop fighting for once and help your mum carrying in the groceries?” she said, to which Noel immediately jumped up and went outside. Liam following him shortly after. The thoughts still running through his mind. He didn’t actually think she was fit, did he? Well, she was, but who was he to think that?

Later that night, when Liam was already laying in bed, cigarette in between his lips, Noel came walking in. He noticed how off his brother was for the whole day, of course he did. There was barely any talking done at the table, when normally Liam couldn’t shut up even if you’d sew his mouth shut. That night he was simply staring down at his food, not even eating it all. The worrying glance which Peggy sent Noel’s way after seeing her son this abnormal wasn’t easing his nerves.

“What’s got you so twisted?” He asked, sitting down on his own bed.

Liam leaned over, blowing the smoke from his mouth out of the window. “Nothing.”

“It’s about that girl, right? You fancy her and she didn’t want to hear any of it, because she knows you’re a cunt and rejected you, or what?” He asked further, remembering how defensive he got the first time Noel asked about her.

“I don’t fancy her,” was all he got as an answer.

“Sure.” Noel rolled his eyes, laying down himself. “She seemed nice though.”

“She is,” Liam agreed, making his brother’s head turn at the soft tone of his voice. “She’s too nice.”

“How so?”

Closing his eyes for a second, he knew he’d regret telling him what happened, nonetheless he did it. “I took her out because of a dare, and when she realized in the morning she didn’t even try to slap me or summat. She just-” his mind went back to her face, how she looked so distant yet like reality came back to her in the moment she realized. “She just walked out as if she should be ashamed.”

“You dumb cunt,” Noel groaned when Liam finished the story. He talked to her once, but from how she talked about Liam and defended him when Noel said that he had no trust in his brother’s abilities and interest in music, it made him feel proud in a way. Proud that Liam actually got somethin together for once in his life, he should’ve seen the downfall coming. And he did, just not that soon.

“You don’t just disrespect girls like tha’, especially no girls like her, alrigh’?” Noel threw his pillow across the room in Liam’s face, who only threw it back after complaining. “You make her feel seen and then you just push her off, that’s shite.”

“As if I’d listen to your advise,” Liam scoffed, taking another drag of his cigarette. Looking out of their window and down the street to where her house stood, he knew that Noel was right. Of course he was. You don’t just treat girls like that, especially not girls like her.

“Then don’t,” Noel shrugged. “But at least remember what Mum taught us.”

[missypanther]

Power levels

I'm not too fond of power scales in shonen or in any kind of superhero work or similar, because I feel that they always end up becoming completely subjective balances of who makes them. But, I suppose, Dandadan is no exception.

Chapter 61.

In all the rankings I see Momo MUCH BELOW what I consider to be Momo's real power. Momo has the potential to alter reality. No, she hasn't reached that power currently, but she has the potential. And although I know that many times Momo is put very low just considering her strength and ignoring her strategy and quick reaction, that doesn't happen with Okarun who only beat Evil Eye because he is smarter than him. Okarun to this day has not shown any hidden potential and is still limited to using the turbo special hit 2 or 3 times. Or, at least, it was like that when he still had them. Evil Eye can use his powers unlimitedly even while inside Jiji's body and the same is true for Jiji himself when Evil Eye gives him control of his powers.

Chapter 173.

On the other hand, the fact that characters like Kinta or Vamola are not positioned at practically the same level is insulting. Yes, they are strong and big, but they are completely dependent on technology. Kinta without the nanoskin is directly a teenager with less skills than average and Vamola is something similar but they take away her armor. There are so many ways to beat them without having to get into a fight… Although Kinta can make incredible things, he was defeated not long ago by a well-placed baseball bat. You don't have to try too hard to knock it out of the game.

If we go to the fights that have been adapted in the manga so far. Momo is the one who wins in these fights or, at the very least, the essential piece to make the fight go in her favor. Let me explain:

Episode 1. Momo and Okarun vs Aliens and Turbogranny. Although Okarun tries to do something, he cannot help Momo. She is able to unlock the powers herself, save herself and Okarun, and dispossess Okarun's body even though the curse is still inside. If the turbo had not used the curse to teleport to the ufo, it would have finished off Okarun without him being able to defend himself.

Episode 2.

Momo and Okarun vs Flatwoods Monster. Again, Okarun tries to contribute something, but the thing is that if it hadn't been for the fact that the seal would have burned Okarun's body, Momo would have won the fight with extreme ease. If anything, we can say that he borrowed a little power from Seiko, as the talisman is what makes the fight end. But Momo's strategy is too good not to give her credit for it.

Episode 4.

Momo and Okarun vs Turbogranny, Earthbound Spirit Crab & Spirits. Obviously, without Okarun's powers it is impossible that they would have left the city unscathed, but Momo could have just let it go in the first place as Seiko suggested. The strategy of the entire combat depends on her, in addition to her powers, they are capable of containing the turbo in fusion mode. She wasn't strong enough to beat her, but she was strong enough to stop her until she broke through Seiko's barrier. Yes, Seiko was also important. But at that point in the fight, Momo not only had to endure a very tough fight, but on top of that she had to carry an unconscious okarun.

Episode 6 & 7.

Momo & Okarun vs Acrobatic Silky. Okarun was the first to be devoured. Although in the second part of the fight he was able to intervene something else and even delivered the final blow to the acrobatic, the rest of the fight depended on the strategy and powers of Momo who, on top of that, was tied up.

Episode 8 & 9.

Momo, Okarun & Aira vs Serpos, Mantis & Nessie. The target was always Okarun. Every time the enemies took advantage it was because Momo was not in the fight or because she made mistakes and got distracted. Errors that serpos take advantage of to use fusions. The final strategy is once again Momo's, her powers are those that destroy the arms of the fused version and she is the one who manages to revive Aira when she is knocked out. It is evident that both Aira and Okarun are necessary for them to win. But they don't succeed until Momo is able to focus and coordinate the entire fight.

[woodchipp]

Sunny and Mari’s argument, as well as the events leading up to it, are fun to dissect because it’s all such dogshit writing on a thousand levels.

1) The speech Sunny’s friends give in the Christmas memory as they present him with the violin almost comes across as them guilt-tripping him into accepting the gift, as they put particular emphasis on the hard work they had to do to buy it. Moreover, the reasons they give for buying the violin boil down to “well he saw this and she said that”, which implies that none of them - not even his sister, apparently - knew Sunny as a person well enough to have a solid idea of what he’d actually like as a gift. 

In a better story, this kind of thing would be used to symbolize how much a relationship sucks or how shallow it is. OMORI, however, frames this as a touching testament to the group’s friendship.

2) Mari, of all people, had to have known how huge of a commitment an instrument would be. Given that she apparently didn’t even know her brother well enough to know whether he’d appreciate a violin as a gift (and a violin isn’t something you gift as a surprise without being 100% sure it’d be appreciated), why didn’t she simply veto Basil’s idea to buy Sunny one? Is she stupid?

3) The photo album’s last three photos seem to imply Mari took part in other recitals before, hence why the one in the game is “Mari and Sunny’s first performance together”. With this in mind, an experienced perfectionist like her deciding to let a beginner like Sunny join her for no discernible reason is incredibly dumb.

4) Sunny got the violin on Christmas and started taking lessons after that. The photo album’s last three photos were taken in September. This means Sunny was practicing the violin for eight months by that point. Given that he “still made mistake after mistake” even by the time of the recital day, it’s safe to assume the lessons didn't help.

Why couldn’t he just quit like he did the first time around? He had to have noticed how much he sucked at it at any point during those eight months. Why didn't Mari just say "eh, you don't seem to be getting better" and decide to find another violinist? Wouldn’t she at least think “I don’t want my brother to embarrass himself on-stage”? If she allowed him to stay even despite seeing how much he sucks because she’s Jesus Christ so implausibly kind and patient, why would she bother insisting on a perfect performance to the point of overworking him?

5) Building off the previous point, if Sunny was so devoted to Mari that he was willing to start taking lessons just for the sake of playing at recitals with her, why would he be displeased about his inability to watch cartoons with his friends to the point of thinking the lessons are a “nuisance”?

If anything, his train of thought would be more along the lines of “well this kinda sucks but I’m doing this for my big sis so it’s worth it”

6) It’s true that Sunny rarely talks and tends to repress his feelings. He wouldn't have embarrassed his friends by telling them the violin wasn't what he wanted right after they gifted it to him. However, it’s hard to feel bad for his stress, given that it becomes relevant only in the game’s last half-hour and Sunny himself is never shown trying to deal with his frustration in less outwardly violent ways than taking it out on objects and his sister.

7) Sunny and Mari had to have practiced in the house’s piano room since Mari’s piano is located there. The room itself is on the first floor, yet the argument inexplicably has them teleport to the top of the staircase.

Wouldn’t Mari catch up with Sunny before he could ascend it? Why didn’t she just grab him right when she noticed he was about to storm out to prevent him from running away? How did Sunny have all the time to run out of the room, go up the stairs, look at the violin, and then throw it down?

8) Sunny didn’t need to ascend the staircase to break the violin. He could’ve simply smashed it against a wall in the piano room, the ground or even the staircase’s steps a few times.

9) Basil was in the house with the two of them as well. Assuming he was invited there for whatever reason (since it’d be too convenient if he happened to enter the house right as Mari was pushed and he shouldn’t have been able to enter the house by himself in the first place), why would Mari start an argument with her brother if she knew they had a guest? How come she got all anxious because someone happened to be nearby when she made a small mistake while playing the piano but felt comfortable yelling at Sunny when someone else was in their house?

10) Considering that a certain photo in the photo album hints that Basil feels compelled to “take care” of Sunny, why didn’t he intervene when he saw (and heard) Mari yelling at him? What, is he protective of Sunny enough to tamper with his sister's corpse for his sake but not enough to stand up for his best friend against the bile said sister was (allegedly) spewing at him?

11) There was nothing preventing Sunny from seeking Basil out after running out of the piano room and venting his frustrations to him. It’d only make sense, especially when the game itself hints Basil’s like a confidant to him. Instead, he chose to express it in a way more violent manner by destroying the violin.

12) A friend of mine actually calculated how much Sunny’s violin and the lessons approximately cost.

In one temper tantrum, Sunny flushed roughly $10,000 down the drain. Lovely kid, isn’t he?

13) Since there’s no conclusive evidence Mari restrained Sunny during the argument or used any sort of physical force in general - the most she’s seen and described doing is blocking his way downstairs by placing herself in front of him and yelling at him - there was nothing preventing him from escaping to his room and locking himself in there until Mari calms down. Or, at least, angrily shouting at her before becoming violent.

This implies that hurting Mari was a conscious decision, and that hurting her was a bigger priority to him than getting away from her.

[leaderpinhead]

Jack - Pushover

Prompt: @flashfictionfridayofficial weekly prompt Rating: General Characters: Jack Howl, Yuu Masterlists for my other fics

“You’re such a pushover , shyheeheehee!” 

Jack’s ears pricked at the familiar snickering before a shadow fell over him. He paused his post-run stretches and tipped his head back to see a smirking Ruggie. He frowned. “What are you talking about?” 

Ruggie’s hissing snickers made Jack’s ears twitch harder. “Do I really have to spell it out for you?” Ruggie reached down and patted the top of Jack’s head. “Good puppy, Jack! That was such a great run! I’ll take you out again later!” 

Jack growled and swatted Ruggie’s hand away from him. “That’s not what Yuu said at all!” 

Ruggie’s snickers slowly died. He clicked his tongue and shook his head sadly. The smirk he still had on his face didn’t match his show of sympathy. “Poor, poor Jack. As your more experienced senior, I’ll give you a bit of advice. Having someone give you pets in public immediately kills all respect from the guys.” 

Jack fell back into hamstring stretches. “I could care less what anybody thinks. Yuu doesn’t mean anything by it.” 

Ruggie sighed like Jack was missing the point. The sound made him tense. “Fine. Don’t say I didn’t try to warn you the next time a buncha guys back at the dorm try to throw their weight around. You might not care much about politics, but that doesn’t change how others do.” 

Jack grunted and listened to Ruggie’s footsteps fade away. He did a few more stretches before returning to the dorm. He kept telling himself he really didn’t care what the other guys in the dorm might think, but Ruggie’s snickers kept tickling his ears. 

When Jack heard Yuu call his name later, he automatically stopped mid-step. A quiet snicker to his left made his ear flick, and a quick glare sent the Pomefiore boy scurrying away. He slowly turned to face Yuu. “Yo.” 

Yuu stopped in front of him without saying a word. Jack frowned. There was a pinched look on her face that made her mouth pucker like one of those fishes in Octavinelle. Jack had learned what that look meant. Something had made Yuu anxious (probably the upcoming exam in potions), but she didn’t want to show it. And when she was this anxious, she usually... 

“Jack,” she said in a tone so serious Jack immediately snapped to attention. She held out her hands with her palms up. “Lend me your assistance.” 

Jack wasn’t sure when exactly they had agreed to this “code.” It must have been at some point after the mess with Azul but before winter break. Jack’s response was always, “How much?” to which Yuu would tell him a number before he allowed her to touch his ears. She never went over the number of ear-rubs she requested, and whether it was the motion or the touch, it always seemed relax her. Jack didn’t mind it if it helped. 

...he hadn’t minded it. 

His ears swiveled to lay against his hair. He scratched the back of his head. “I’m gonna be late for class.” 

The lie tasted sour on his tongue. Her tight expression relaxed briefly enough for her shock to be apparent. Her hands fell to her side where her fingers twisted the edges of her uniform jacket. Her eyes dropped to her feet. “Oh. Sorry. I should go find Ace and Deuce then. We can’t be late either.” 

A sharp twist in his gut made him nauseous, but he didn’t stop Yuu from turning away. He did the same and managed to take a few steps in the direction of his class. He made the mistake of glancing over his shoulder. Instead of leaving for class, Yuu had stepped closer to the wall to allow other students to move through the hall unhindered. She twisted her fingers, frowning intensely at a single spot on the floor. 

The invisible knife in his intestines dug deeper, but Jack resolutely took a few more steps. He could’ve sworn he heard Ruggie snickering. A quick glance around the hall didn’t reveal a snickering hyena, but he got another glance of Yuu anxiously picking at her nail beds. 

With a heavy sigh, Jack quickly crossed the hallway to stand next to Yuu. She didn’t notice him until he leaned his head down far enough to enter her field of vision, making her involuntarily jump. “Go ahead.” 

“Are you sure?” 

Jack grunted his affirmative. Yuu knew better than to ask twice, and her hands quickly found his ears. One, two, three—she petted his ears six times before letting him go. The mouth pucker had been replaced by a wide smile that made her look a little less anxious. “Thanks! I’ll see you after class. Let me know if you want to go on another run today.” 

Jack rubbed the back of his neck and watched her practically skip down the hall. He had no idea why that always worked. That knife was no longer plunged into his gut though, so whatever. Jack didn’t know he was smiling until a snide laugh ruined his good mood. “Such a good boy, Howl.” 

Jack loudly snarled at the snickering group of hyenas, which sent them scurrying away with a few fearful yips. He grinned. If a snarl was all it took to send a few idiots scurrying, then Ruggie’s warning might not have been a big deal after all. Ruggie may have seen him as a pushover, but there were clearly bigger pushovers than Jack on campus. 

[definitely-not-a-wasp]

IMMORTAL MAD SCIENTIST BATTLE!!! (Though would Max be immortal at this point, if she was doing all of the mad science on not-Fang? Maybe she's surviving that fight because she understands Iggy doesn't want to kill her.)

Assuming that Fang's death took place where it did in canon, with Dr. HGH committing manslaughter, this is where I see the flock:

The flock's split had Max, hellbent on reviving Fang at any cost; Dylan, her genetically engineered soulmate who has a very hard time saying no to her; and maybe Angel, who helped HGH commit that manslaughter. Maybe she'd want to stay to fix her mistake, because all of her mistakes have been able to be fixed and she doesn't understand why this would be any different.

Then there was Iggy, who refuses to be part of this; Gazzy, who trusts Iggy to make the right call; and Nudge, who loves Max, loves Iggy, loved Fang, but she's no longer a shiny-eyed kid that believes everything will work out fine. She's twelve, which is almost a teenager, which is almost an adult. There are things that she can understand, now, that she couldn't a few years ago. And maybe Angel, who can feel Max's single-minded obsession and realizes that it feels very similar to her own, and it scares her, what she could have become. Better to go with Iggy, whose worst instincts will only effect himself.

It takes a number of months before Dylan dies— a tragic accident that in no way could be forseen or prevented. A little longer before Angel runs, lost to the rest of the world. But that doesn't matter, because a few weeks after, Fang is back, they're back, they're back, and nothing ever has to hurt again. She just needs to get the rest of her family back and everything will go back to normal. They can be a family.

Iggy hears that Fang is alive through a grapevine. Maybe Angel, if she runs into them. Maybe if she was there the whole time with him, she'd be able to know instinctively. He wants to believe the best in Max, he does, but he also knows better. So he tinkers, he experiments, the burns on his arms stop being from fire and start being from chemicals. He stops sleeping. He stops needing to sleep. Angel grows distant, and one day, she disappears, because she's already killed one of her flock, and she doesn't want to see another kill himself.

(I think, in every version, she does not return.)

When Nudge asks, he tells her the truth. When she asks him to stop, when she tells him he's scaring her, he tells her that the world is a scary thing. When she says she'll leave, he protests, says it's to keep them safe, he did this— made bombs that killed innocents, made himself a subject of his own experiments, made himself a monster— so they wouldn't have to. So they could stay naive and innocent and safe.

She leaves anyway. Takes Gazzy with her. He does not look for them, and hopes that maybe, if he provides enough of a smokescreen, something for Max to fear— fear that he'll put Fang back in the ground, or that he'll steal her creation for himself— then she won't, either. Max, Fang, and Iggy all grew up in dog crates, and they have become contaminated land where nothing peaceful can grow. But maybe Nudge and Gazzy will get things right, this time around.

ok but what if: mad scientist max fighting against her science-based trauma so that she can learn how to resurrect/clone/etc. fang because she can't go through life without him but she sure as hell doesn't trust the whitecoats to bring him back, least of all jeb

and as @aviandaleks suggested: max looking at herself in the mirror, wearing a white coat and nitrile gloves stained in blood, and realizing she's become just like them

[luck-of-the-drawings]

EVERYONE SEEMS TO HAVE MOVED ON SO WELL, ITS LIKE NO ONE EVEN CARES THAT SHES GONE. ISNT ANYONE ELSE FUCKING MAD? OR CONFUSED? I WILL TEAR THIS WHOLE WORLD APART FOR AN ANSWER, SINCE NO ONE ELSE SEEMS TO WANT TO.

[jazelock]

8 Books I Read Growing Up: A Poem

"The Intrusion," Banquets of the Black Widowers - Isaac Asimov || The Witches - Roald Dahl || Hickory Dickory Dock - Agatha Christie || The Giving Tree - Shel Silverstein || The Picture of Dorian Gray - Oscar Wilde || The Return of the King - J. R. R. Tolkien || "A Scandal in Bohemia," The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle || The Eyes of the Dragon - Stephen King

[astramachina]

Maybe it's to do with how we're exposed to our languages growing up? I often get asked what my first language is and I just blank out because I legitimately cannot say whether it's Spanish or English. My dad only spoke English until he met mom, and mom was fluent in both English and Spanish when she met him. Meanwhile, growing up in PR during the 90s meant that 98% of the world outside of my childhood home was in Spanish, while the world inside our house was 99% English. TV, movies, music, books--everything was in English, and I was an avid reader. But also PR Spanish is so viciously "improper"/mutated that half our lexicon are badly pronounced English words.

Prende los parabrisas? Nah. It's prende los wipers. Dame un momento? Nope. It's dame un break. I was in AP Spanish during middle school and my teacher was a member of La Real Academia Española and boy howdy this lady had daily aneurysms because her students spoke like "American dropouts".

So like... I'm shrugging with plenty of confusion. There is no brain switching when I flip flop between English and Spanish. Words from both languages do blend together stupidly into a single sentence. It's not proper, but it just happens.

Granted, when writing dialogue it might sound weird when it's written by someone who's monolingual because conjugations might be off so on so forth, but that aside idk what some of y'all are talking about.

[kaijutegu]

Alligator Body Language and You, or: How To Know When An Alligator On Social Media is Being Stressed for Views

Alligators are wild animals. Despite the idiotic claims of animal abusers like Jay Brewer, they cannot be domesticated, which means they are always going to react on the same natural instincts they've had for millions of years. Habituated, yes. Tamed, yes. Trained, definitely. Crocodilians can form bonds with people- they're social and quite intelligent. They can solve problems, use tools, and they're actually quite playful. Alligators are also really good at communicating how they're feeling, but to somebody who doesn't spend much time around them, their body language can be a bit mystifying. And it doesn't help when social media influencers are saying shit like this:

That is not what a happy gator looks like.

That's a terrified, furious gator who isn't attacking because the ogre handling her has her in a chokehold. She's doing everything she can to express her displeasure, and he's lying about it because he knows his audience doesn't even know how to think critically about what he's doing. He knows that because his audience doesn't know anything about these animals, he can get away with it. This I think is why I hate him so much- he deliberately miseducates his audience. He knows what he's doing is factually inaccurate, he just doesn't care because attention means more to him than anything else in the world.

Let's change that! Here are two really important lessons for understanding alligator body language on social media.

Lesson 1: Alligators Don't Smile (in fact, most animals don't)

So what's going on in this video? Jay Brewer is aggressively choking his white alligator Coconut while scrubbing algae off of her with a toothbrush. And make no mistake, he is digging into the creature's throat while she is visibly distressed. He claims she's happy- but she's not. He is willfully misrepresenting what this animal is feeling. That's a problem, because people... well, we actually kind of suck at reading other species' body language. The reason for this is that we tend to overlay our own responses on their physical cues, and that's a problem. For example, let's look at an animal with a really similar face to ours, the chimpanzee. Check out Ama's toothy grin!

Wait, no. That's not a happy smile. That's a threat display. When a chimpanzee "smiles," it's either terrified and doing a fear grimace, or it's showing you its teeth because it intends on using them in your face.

How about a dog? Look at my smiling, happy puppy!

Oh wait no, this is a picture of Ryder when he was super overwhelmed by noise and people during a holiday party. He'd hopped up in my sister's lap to get away from stuff that was happening on the floor and was panting quite heavily. See the tension in the corners of his mouth and his eyes? A lot of the time when a dog "smiles," the smile isn't happy. It's stress! Why Animals Do The Thing has a nice writeup about that, but the point is, our body language is not the same as other species. And for reptiles, body language is wildly different.

For instance, look at these two alligators. Pretty cute, right? Look at 'em, they're posing for a Christmas card or something! How do you think they're feeling?

Well, I'll tell you how the normal one is feeling. He's annoyed! Why is he annoyed? Because the albino just rolled up, pushed another gator off the platform, and is trying to push this guy, too. I know this because I actually saw it happen. It was pretty funny, not gonna lie. He's not gaping all the way, but he was hissing- you can actually see him getting annoyed in the sequence I took right before this shot. Look at him in this first shot here- he's just relaxing, and you can see he isn't gaping even a little bit.

By the end, he's expressing displeasure, but not enough to actually do anything about it. He's annoyed, but he's comfy and that's where one of the best basking areas is, so he'll put up with it.

Reptiles open their mouths wide for a lot of reasons, but never because they are actively enjoying a sensation. Unless they're eating. No reptile smiles- they can't. They don't even have moveable lips. If a reptile is gaping, it's doing so because:

It is doing a threat display.

It is making certain vocalizations, all of which are threats. Alligators are one of the rare reptiles that do regularly vocalize, but most of their calls aren't made with a wide open mouth.

It is about to bite something delicious or somebody stupid. Check out this video- virtually all of the gaping here is anticipatory because these trained gators know darn well that the bowl is full of delicious snacks. (I have some issues with Florida's Wildest, but the man knows how to train a gator AND he is honest about explaining what they're doing and why, and all of his animals are healthy and well-cared for, and he doesn't put the public or his staff at risk- just himself.)

It's too hot and it has opened its mouth to vent some of that heat and thermoregulate. This is the main reason why alligators will often have their mouths part of the way open, but sometimes they'll open all the way for thermoregulation. This is what a thermoregulatory gape looks like- usually it's not all the way open, kinda more like < rather than V, but you can't say that 100% of the time. Additionally, a thermoregulatory gape... typically happens when it's hot out. If they're inside, maybe they've been under their basking light for too long. Heat's the dominant factor, is what I'm getting at.

There is another reason that a captive crocodilian might be gaping, and that's because it's doing so on command. Some places have their gators trained to gape on cue, like St. Augustine Alligator Farm and other good zoos. They have the animals do this in presentations that are genuinely educational. They ask the animals to open their mouths so that they can show off their teeth and demonstrate how their tongues seal off the back of their mouth. They'll also do it as part of routine healthcare, because looking at their teeth is important.

In this case, the animals aren't gaping because they're stressed, they're gaping because they know they're gonna get a piece of chicken or fish if they do it. And what's more, they're doing it on cue. They have a specific command or signal that tells them to open wide. It's not an instinctive response to a situation. It's trained. If the animal provides the behavior after a cue, the situation is much less likely to be negatively impactful.

It's also important to remember that there's a difference between a partially open mouth and a gape! As discussed above, alligators will often have their mouths a little bit open just to maintain temperature homeostasis. It helps them stay comfy, temperature-wise. These guys are all doing thermoregulatory open-mouthed behavior- that slight open and relaxed body posture is a dead giveaway. (That and it's the hottest spot in the enclosure.)

Lesson 2: A Happy Gator Is A Chill Gator

So if alligators don't smile or have facial expressions other than the :V that typically signifies distress, how else can you tell how they're feeling? One way is stillness. See, alligators subscribe to the philosophy of if it sucks... hit da bricks.

Basically, if they hate it, they'll leave. Unless, y'know, somebody has their meaty claws digging into their throat or is otherwise restraining them. (Restraint isn't always bad, btw. Sometimes the animal is going through a medical thing or needs to be restrained for their safety- which a responsible educator will explain.)

Let's look at a very similar scenario, in which a captive alligator is getting his back scrubbed.

As you can see, it's quite different. First, he's not being restrained at all. Second, look at how relaxed he is! He's just chilling there vibing! He could simply get up and leave if he wanted to, because he's not being held. Towards the end of the video, as he lifts his head, you can see that his respiratory rate is very even as his throat flutters a bit. I'm not sure what this facility is, so I can't comment on care/general ethics, but like. In this specific case, this is an alligator enjoying being scrubbed! And you can tell because he's not doing anything. A happy gator is content to be doing what they're doing.

Why Should I Listen To You?

Now, you should ask yourself, why should you listen to me? Why should you trust me, who does not own an alligator, versus Jay Brewer, who owns several?

Well, first off, there's no profit for me in telling you that what you're seeing on social media is in fact not what you're being told you're seeing. I'm not getting paid to do this. That's the thing with people who make social media content. The big names aren't doing it just for fun. They're doing it for money. Whether that's profit through partnerships or sponsorships, or getting more people to visit their facilities, or ad revenue, you can't ignore the factor of money. And this is NOT a bad thing, because it allows educators to do what they're passionate about! People deserve to be paid for the work that they do!

But the problem starts when you chase the algorithm instead of actually educating. A "smiling" alligator gets the views, and if people don't know enough to know better, it keeps getting the views. People love unconventional animal stories and they want those animals to be happy- but the inability to even know where to start with critically evaluating these posts really hinders the ability to spread real information. Like, this post will probably get a couple hundred notes, but that video of Coconut being scrubbed had almost 400,000 likes when I took that screenshot. Think about how many eyeballs that's reached by now. What I'm saying here is that it's just... really important to think critically about who you're getting your information from. What do dissenters say in the comments? What do other professionals say? You won't find a single herpetologist that has anything good to say about Prehistoric Pets, I can tell you that right now.

Another reason you can trust me is that my sources are not "just trust me bro," or "years of experience pretending my pet shop where animals come to die is a real zoo." Instead, here are my primary sources for my information on alligator behavior:

Dragon Songs: Love and Adventure among Crocodiles, Alligators, and Other Dinosaur Relations- Vladimir Dinets

The Secret Social Lives of Reptiles- J. Sean Doody, Vladimir Dinets, Gordon M. Burghardt

Social Behavior Deficiencies in Captive American Alligators (Alligator mississippiensis)- Z Walsh, H Olson, M Clendening, A Rycyk

Social Displays of the American Alligator (Alligator mississippiensis)- Kent Vliet

Social Signals and Behaviors of Adult Alligators and Crocodiles- Leslie Garrick, Jeffery Lang

Never smile at a crocodile: Gaping behaviour in the Nile crocodile at Ndumo Game Reserve, South Africa- Cormac Price, Mohamed Ezat, Céline Hanzen, Colleen Downs (this one's Nile crocs, not American alligators, but it's really useful for modeling an understanding of gape behaviors and proximity)

Thermoregulatory Behavior of Captive American Alligators (Alligator mississippiensis)- Cheryl S. Asa, Gary D. London, Ronald R. Goellner, Norman Haskell, Glenn Roberts, Crispen Wilson

Unprovoked Mouth Gaping Behavior in Extant Crocodylia- Noah J. Carl, Heather A. Stewart, Jenny S. Paul

Thank you for reading! Here's a very happy wild alligator from Sanibel for your trouble.

[navybrat817]

Knock You Down a Peg or Two

Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Someone learns the hard way that it's a bad idea to upset Bucky's wife.

Word Count: Over 1.5k

Warnings: Established relationship, violent threats (not against the reader), protective vibes, implied sexy times, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I'm in a mood, lovelies. We can consider this in the same universe as Mr. and Mrs. Barnes and Handsome and Beautiful. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky was no longer the Winter Soldier. He told himself every day he wasn't a cold killer anymore. He did his best to make amends and worked hard to clear his name. From time to time though, people pushed his buttons and got under his skin. You helped him brush it off. Their opinions didn't matter at the end of the day, only yours.

You mattered to him more than anything else. So, if someone bothers him, yeah, he could let it go. Someone upsetting you? He wouldn't stand for it.

Bucky's eyes narrowed as he spotted the little weasel sitting at the table in the break room alone. A few hours ago, you called him to vent about how this guy repeatedly tried to make you look bad in front of your superior during a meeting. It wasn’t the first time either. Your tears of frustration were obvious by your tone on the other end, though you tried to hide them. You worked hard, harder than anyone else he knew, and you took your job seriously.

He saw red when he heard you sniffle and it was the only color he had seen since then.

“Give me his name.”

“Bucky, no,” you had argued. “The guy’s a prick and I just needed to vent, so you don’t-”

“Please, baby,” he whispered, knowing full well you could handle yourself, but you were his wife and someone took joy out of your day. Not just that, they made you cry. He took this personally and he wanted to defend you. “Just give me his name so I can take care of it.”

You softly gave him the name, and he made it a priority to find the asshole. It didn’t take him long. No one even questioned why he was asking. It must’ve been his “murder strut” and glare. You once said it could break even the strongest of people.

He headed toward the empty chair beside the agent, careful not to make a sound. His stealth assisted with that. Once he reached the chair though, he made it a point to scrap the chair across the floor to get the prick's attention. The annoyance in his eyes quickly shifted to fear when he realized who he was looking at.

Good. He hoped he pissed his pants.

He made a show of slipping off his leather jacket before taking a seat, making sure the agent got a good look at his metal arm. He also made a show of getting one of his knives out, one you gifted him. “I think we can skip the introductions since you know who I am and I really don't give a shit who you are,” he began, his voice low as he twirled the knife between his fingers. “But I understand you know my wife and, well, she’s the reason I’m here.”

The guy blinked when Bucky made eye contact, the blade still expertly weaving in his hand. “S-Sure. Everyone knows your wife.”

Bucky smiled softly, taking a second to glance at his wedding band. “I’m usually not one to brag, but I can’t help it when it comes to her. She works hard and deserves all the praise she gets, but she’s still humble. Appreciative. Loyal,” he boasted, still smiling before he glared again. “She’d never throw anyone under the bus, especially in front of a superior.”

The little weasel cleared his throat, sitting up a bit straighter in his chair. He seemed to notice for the first time that they were the only two people there. “Look, I don’t know what your wife said, but-”

Bucky pointed the blade at him. “I would think very carefully about what comes out of your mouth next,” he snarled, his eyes as cold as ice.

There was a beat of silence as the guy squirmed in his seat and averted his gaze. Bucky wished you were there to see it. And Steve and Sam. “I may have run my mouth a bit. I just wanted to knock her down a peg or two, you know? She keeps getting promoted and…” he swallowed when Bucky’s eyes narrowed to slits. If this fucker even thought about implying that you slept your way to get where you were today, he may actually cut his throat. “Please, don't kill me.”

The silence after that statement may have been uncomfortable for some, but Bucky didn’t break a sweat. No, he was just thinking of all the different ways he could put him in the hospital for even thinking he had a right to put you down. Putting the knife away, he slowly got to his feet. “Get up,” he said quietly, flexing his hands in intimidation.

“Fuck.” The man nearly knocked his chair over as he stood. “Listen, I’m sorry,” he blurted out, putting his hands out in front of him. “I’ll apologize to her first thing tomorrow, I swear.”

“You think that makes up for it? And are you sorry for trying to make her look bad or are you sorry that you’re under my radar now?” Bucky’s stare remained steady as he knocked his chair out of the way, the piece of furniture nearly splintering when it hit the wall. “Everyone knows what I'm capable of, but do you know what happens to people who upset. My. Wife?”

Bucky refused to say that you cried. The asshole might take that as a sign of victory and he wouldn’t give him any sort of win. He didn’t deserve it. He didn't deserve to be in the same space as you.

The guy’s mouth parted as he took a few steps back on shaky legs. “I-It won’t happen again! I swear!”

“No, it won't, but how about I cut your tongue out so you can’t run your mouth again? Maybe pull out your teeth, too?” Bucky knocked the table away next as he advanced. “Or how about your eyes so you won’t look at her either. Hell, I’ll settle for taking your arm. We’ll match.”

The man let out what sounded like a whimper, his teeth nearly chattering from his fear. Scaring people had given him nightmares, haunted him, but it fueled his fire when he terrified anyone in your honor. “I won’t bother her ever again! I’ll tell my boss she deserves another promotion! I'll transfer! You have my word! I’m sorry!”

Bucky laughed after a moment, a bitter, chilling sound before he held up a hand. “I’m just fucking with you.”

His eyes were still wide with fear. “W… What?”

“I was just trying to scare you a little. You should see the look on your face,” Bucky chuckled again, lightly smacking the guy’s cheek. “Listen, you don’t have to transfer and I’m not going to torture you. Just apologize to my girl and we’re good, okay?”

“Okay.” He let out a breath and chuckled, too. “You really won’t torture me?”

“No, I won’t,” he grinned, grabbing his shoulders. “But I will knock you down a peg or two.”

The prick didn’t see the headbutt coming, but he felt it before he hit the ground. Bucky knew he’d feel it in the morning, too. He got off lucky.

“You know, after you apologize to my wife, I hope you do stay so you can see her continue to thrive,” Bucky toed the guy’s body with his boot. “And speaking of, I need to go buy her some flowers, chocolate, and wine. She deserves it.”

Grabbing his jacket from the broken chair across the room and brushing it off, he whistled as he left the room. He waited until he was a good distance away to call. You picked up on the second ring.

“Hey.” You sounded much better than you did earlier. “So, what’s the damage?”

“Hey, baby,” he smiled. “I headbutted the prick. And before you ask, my head feels great.”

The former assassin may get suspended for that and damaging the table and chair, but he doubted the asshole would have the balls to speak up about what happened.

“Bucky…” you sighed. You were probably pinching the bridge of your nose. “What am I gonna do with you?”

“You’re gonna let me eat you for dessert when I get home,” he smirked. Not that he needed an excuse to dive between your legs, but he'd take any chance he had. “Figure I'll give you at least two orgasms before dinner.”

“Is that right, Mr. Barnes?”

“That is right, Mrs. Barnes.”

The sound of your giggle spread warmth through his chest. Your happiness was his happiness. “Better not keep me waiting,” you teased, pausing for a beat. “Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” he said. You always stuck up for him without question.

“Love you.”

His heart swelled more. “Love you, too.”

He’d have some more explaining to do once he got home and would probably have to pay for the damage he caused. He was also sure that you were plotting the demise of the man’s career and would tell him that he didn’t need to do anything, but he wanted to. He was no longer the Winter Soldier.

But he was your husband and he’d defend you with his life, no matter what.

Violence isn't the answer, but this is fanfiction and we all deserve a loving Bucky. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

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