#but not because they hate the rest of the world for objective reasons

[swordsandarms]

One obnoxiously wrong Stark fans opinion is how where you grew up is all you're worth and worthy of and contributes to "fandom wars" of who gets to rule the North based on small details. I get that within this society that's empowering for women and disabled people hence the wish for so called "success" but it's often forced.

I roll my eyes at all "Winterfell is important to these kids because they are the most connected and future kings/queens" shit because Bran, Arya, Sansa for one (Jon just didn't have a choice) dream of Winterfell because of trauma, not some fucking predestination. All these three for one dreamed to leave home behind and see the world, within various ways of seeing what that meant. And that was normal. Winterfell is a reper of safety and love for reasons that have nothing to do with Winterfell being oh so special and not replaceable but these kids being dropped in circumstances that were not normal to leaving one's childhood home to makes one's own independent life. And that's normal.

Part of it it's maybe that Westerosi timeline travel is more difficult and longer, but it's so fucking weird to see people getting so protective of being born and dying in the same small social circle. It sounds conservative.

[estrellami-1]

March Mating Madness

Day 24: Arranged Marriage/Mating of Convenience & Day 25: Scentmates/Soulmates

North Dakota

Ao3 Link

“Munson,” Steve Harrington says, standing on his doorstep, because apparently this is the bullshit the universe is throwing at him today.

He sighs, steps outside. Leans against the doorframe with crossed arms and feigned nonchalance. “I don’t sell from home,” he tells Harrington. “You wanna buy, you can do it at the table behind the school.”

“No, I- I’m not here to buy,” he says. Eddie looks closer, realizes the confidence is feigned bravado. He’s scared.

Eddie narrows his eyes. “Then what are you here for?”

“A mating, hopefully.” He sighs, runs a hand through his perfect hair. “Listen, can I come in? Can we not discuss this outside? ‘Cause I know El’s here with Max and if I know them as well as I think I do, they’re spying on us.”

Eddie blinks, flicks his eyes over to the Mayfields’ trailer. Sure enough, a curtain slots back into place.

Eddie narrows his eyes again, but steps inside, holding the door open for Harrington. “Shoes off. How do you know Mayfield?”

“She’s pack,” he says simply, toeing his shoes off just inside the door. “They both are. There’s some boys too, you might’ve seen Lucas before? Sinclair? He and Max are dating. We’re all pack.”

Eddie motions to the couch, sits down. “You said you’re here for a mating.”

Harrington looks down at his hands, clasped in his lap. “Yeah.”

“I think I’m gonna need a little more than yeah, Harrington.”

He winces. “Um. My parents? They’re trying to marry me off to the highest bidder.”

Eddie’s brow hits the ceiling. “You? King Steve? No way.”

He winces again. “Could you please not call me that? I get that you hate me, and you have every right to, but I’m trying not to be that guy anymore.”

Eddie tilts his head in thought, then nods. “Alright. Still doesn’t mean I believe you.”

Irritation flickers over Harrington’s features. “Why the fuck else would I ask you to mate me, dude?”

Eddie shrugs. “A dare? Laugh at the Freak when he says yes? Any number of reasons, really.”

He scrubs his hands over his face. “I was really shitty to a lot of people,” he starts quietly. “And I get that this might be, like… cosmic judgement, or something. But I refuse to mate the person my parents want me to.”

“Why?”

He sighs. “Take your pick, man. It’s a business deal. He made a joke with my dad about, like, smacking me around, and… compliance, or some shit. He doesn’t see me as a person, he sees me as an object. Some… thing to have sex with whenever he wants it. To hell with whether or not I want it. He’s controlling, manipulative, and I know he won’t be faithful. It’ll be a miracle if I don’t get rejection sickness within the first year.”

Eddie blinks, sits back. “Shit, man.” He thinks for a moment. “And you’re asking for a bite because?”

“If I’m mated, my parents have no recourse, legal or otherwise. A bite should be enough to get them off my back.”

“And if it’s not?”

Harrington shrugs. “I run, I guess. I’ve got- y’know Robin? Buckley? From band?”

“I know of her, sure.”

“She’s… she’s my best friend. Like, in the entire world. She knows what my parents are planning. And if it comes down to it, we’ll run. We’ve got some savings tucked away, but it’s not much. But my whole life is here, my pack is here, and my parents aren’t. Much, at least. I don’t want to leave, at least not without my pack.”

“So why not ask her for her bite? She’s an Alpha too, right?”

“She is, but…” he shakes his head. “I can’t. Mostly because she’d do it.”

“And that’s a bad thing because?”

“Because it would fade. Or we’d separate, because as much as we’re gonna be in each other’s lives for the rest of our lives, we’re not… like that. We’re not meant to be together like that. And I can’t put her through that pain and heartbreak, if I have to bite her too.” He quirks a corner of his lips up. “Plus she’s a terrible liar. My parents would see straight through her.”

“And how do you know I’m a good liar?”

Hazel eyes flick over to him. “You were in theater. I took an educated guess.”

Eddie snorts despite himself. “That’s fair, I guess.” He tilts his head, sighs. “I’m still not sure you’re telling the truth, but say I believe you. What would I have to do?”

He works his lip. “It should just be a bite. That should be enough for them.”

“And if it’s not?”

He shrugs miserably. “I run, I guess. I go to Robin and we run.”

“And you think you won’t get isolation sickness from leaving your pack so quickly?”

“What other choice do I have?” He bursts out, an angry whine tearing its way out of his throat. “I can’t do what my parents want and if I stay in this town there’s no way for me to get away from them! I probably will end up sick but it’s better than fucking killing myself!”

“Shit,” Eddie whispers.

Steve puts his head in his hands. “I can’t,” he whispers. “I would. I’d find a way to kill myself because I know my parents and I know my dad’s friends. There’s no way I’d make it one step out of the door before they find me again. It’s running or suicide but I don’t actually want to die.” He sighs, long and drawn-out. “Yet.”

“Okay,” Eddie decides.

Steve peeks up at him. “Okay?”

“I’ll bite you. If your parents want to meet me, you’ll bite me. We’ll find a way to dissolve it after that won’t end up in sickness.”

Steve studies him. “You mean it.”

Eddie spreads his hands. “What gave it away?”

He cracks a smile. “Mostly the lack of any jokes.”

Eddie snickers, stands. “C’mon. I was about to make lunch when you showed up. Hungry?”

“Oh,” he says. “Yeah, actually. Thank you.”

Eddie makes mac and cheese, silently daring Steve to say something about the box, but he just meekly thanks Eddie when he’s handed a bowl.

“Y’know,” Eddie starts, mouth full, “you’re not who I thought you were.”

Steve blinks down at his bowl. “Um. Thank you?”

Eddie grins. “Yeah, it’s a compliment.” He swallows, looks down at his bowl to scrape together another bite. “Thought you were perfect, in the worst sense of the word. You’ve got the hair, the looks, the car… people of every secondary gender lusting after you. What could you possibly not have? Especially that I do?” He shrugs. “Choice, apparently.”

Steve huffs a breath out. Eddie thinks it might be a laugh, or something trying to be one, in any case. “Yeah. Most castles are also dungeons.”

“Shit,” Eddie murmurs, leaning back in his seat and regarding Steve with wide eyes. “You’re kinda metal, Harrington, you know that?”

He looks up at Eddie uncertainly. “Is that a good thing?”

“Hell yeah that’s a good thing,” Eddie agrees, stuffing another bite into his mouth. “You want the bite today? Or was today to just pitch the idea to me?”

“No, I- if I can, if you don’t mind- today, please.”

Eddie leans back, looks at the clock. “You got anywhere to be in… six-ish hours?”

“Um,” Steve says. “No?”

“Cool. I live here with my uncle, and he’s chill, he won’t mind, but he’ll definitely mind not knowing about it.”

“Oh,” Steve says. “Okay, yeah. Makes sense, I guess. So… you want to wait until after you tell him?”

“After we tell him. If you don’t mind telling him.”

“No, I don’t mind.”

“Okay. Until then,” Eddie grins, “I’m pretty sure you should know your Alpha more than just surface-level. Your parents are gonna have questions, right?”

“Probably,” Steve agrees, looking vaguely nauseous.

Eddie tilts his head. “Can I ask a question?”

“You just did,” Steve retorts, then colors. “Sorry. Yeah.”

Eddie snickers. “You’re kinda bitchy. I like it. Do you wear blockers because you want to or because you’re forced to?”

Steve’s breath catches in his throat. He glances at Eddie’s neck, his uncovered gland. “It’s- it’s not proper,” he starts, then bites his lip.

“That what your parents tell you?”

Steve nods.

Eddie hums. “I don’t mind. Wayne won’t, either. If you want to take the patches off.” He frowns. “Do you- wear them at home, too?”

Steve sighs, won’t meet his eyes. “I think, maybe, me being an omega is the improper thing.”

“Well fuck that,” Eddie says, grinning and winking at Steve. “C’mon. I’ll show you mine?”

Steve giggles, glancing at Eddie before looking away and peeling the patch off.

In just a minute, a new scent starts to filter through the trailer. Peaches and raspberries, and something a little sour from the anxiety starting to show on his face.

Eddie sends out reassurance, calm-happy Alpha scent. He knows from Wayne that it smells like pine and petrichor, and as soon as Steve gets a sniff he begins to calm down. “Oh,” he murmurs, glancing at Eddie’s neck, then back away. “You, um.” His cheeks flush. “You smell good.”

Eddie chuckles. “Thanks. You too. I like fruit.”

“Um,” Steve says, confused, “I like fruit, too?”

“No, ‘cause- ‘cause of your scent? Peaches and raspberries.”

Steve shakes his head, brows furrowed. “Robin says I scent like marshmallows,” he says. “What, um- what do people say you scent like?”

Eddie’s heart slams double-time in his chest. Says quietly, “I’m guessing to you I don’t smell like pine and petrichor?”

Steve’s eyes widen as he shakes his head again. “You scent like the beach, to me,” he whispers. “And, like- sunset? I know that doesn’t make sense, but-”

“No, I- I get it. The moment when the sun goes down and it gets cooler?”

“Yeah,” Steve murmurs, eyes still saucer-wide. “Are we-”

“Looks like it,” Eddie agrees, glancing at Steve’s neck and leaning over, extending a hand, stopping just before he touches. “Can I?”

Steve nods, eyes wide, so Eddie does, rubs their glands together. His eyes widen at the feeling that zings through him. He keeps a tight leash on his scent until he smells the peaches and raspberries bloom, sweet and floral and fruity. His eyes widen even more. “You’re… happy?”

The fruit suddenly turns, goes bad. “Um.”

“No, shit, I-” he scrambles over on the couch, grabs Steve’s hands, lets his own scent bloom and fill out, tangible happiness. “Steve.”

Fruit turns ripe again as Steve’s eyes meet Eddie’s. “You are too?”

“I’m a fuckin’ idiot,” Eddie tells him, “but yeah.”

“You are not.”

“Mhm. So is now a good or a bad time to tell you about the embarrassing crush I had on you starting your junior year?”

“No,” Steve gasps. “Really?”

“Yup. ‘Course, I a little bit hated you too, but that’s a separate issue.”

Steve snickers. “Of course.” He softens as he watches Eddie. “I am glad it’s you,” he says softly. “Out of everyone.”

“Why?”

Steve looks down at their hands, still intertwined. “The Alpha my parents chose for me wouldn’t let me make my own decisions. Would decide everything for me. Probably enforce a strict regimen for me. I’d be… nothing to him. He wouldn’t see me as a person. But you will.”

“Of course I would,” Eddie bites out, scent going tar-sharp. “Because you’re a fucking human being.”

Steve shrugs, squeezes his fingers a little. “He wouldn’t see it that way. A lot of people—Alphas, really, especially in the business world—still see omegas, especially male omegas, as… secondary. Sub-human.”

“Which is fucking stupid.” Eddie sighs. “Wayne’s a beta, so he… kinda gets it, y’know? So I kinda get it, like, by proxy.”

Steve hums, shifts. “Yeah. Okay, this is a complete one-eighty, but… I mentioned Robin, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. She’s my absolute best friend in the entire world, we’re closer than anyone. She’s an Alpha but we’re not, like, together. Is that… going to be a problem?”

Eddie makes a face. “What the fuck? No! Be friends with who you want to be friends with!”

“Oh, thank god,” Steve whispers, sagging against the couch. “We’re basically siblings, except we tell each other everything, and I do mean everything, and-”

Eddie snickers. “You wanna call her and tell her we’re scentmates.”

“Yes!” Steve exclaims, then pulls back. “Unless- is that-”

“It’s fine, is what it is. She’s probably gonna threaten me, isn’t she?”

“Yeah. Uh. She might threaten you. Sorry in advance if she does.”

“Steve,” Eddie says quietly, “you don’t ever have to apologize for someone loving you so completely.”

“Oh,” Steve whispers, staring at Eddie.

He inclines his head with a small smile. “Phone’s right there. Want me to talk to her after?”

“I- yeah, she- like we said, she’s gonna want to talk to you.” He frowns at Eddie. “You really don’t care?”

“That you’re friends? No.”

“We’re, like- it’s not just friends, though. She’s my soulmate.”

Eddie snickers. “As long as she’s not your scentmate. That would merit a talk.”

Steve smiles. “No, we’re not scentmates. Just… closer than any non-bonded people have any right being.”

“Steve,” Eddie reminds him, “my nickname is the freak. I’m pretty sure you can’t out-freak me.”

“You’d be surprised,” Steve murmurs, walking over to the phone and dialing Robin’s number.

They speak for a few minutes before he calls Eddie over. “Please be nice,” he begs her, then hands the phone over.

“-talking about, I’m always nice,” Robin retorts.

Eddie blinks. “Hello?”

“Eddie.”

“That’s me.”

“You’re Steve’s scentmate.”

“I mean. Yeah?”

Robin hums. “How do you feel about it?”

“Honestly?” He smiles at Steve. “Really good. I’m really happy.”

“And he explained how close we are?”

“He did.”

“What did you say?”

“He apologized for you threatening me, and I told him he never needs to apologize for someone loving him so completely.”

“Oh, shit,” Robin says knowingly. “Did he cry?”

“Almost,” Eddie chuckles. “Listen, Robin, you can properly threaten me later, but he wanted to call you as soon as we found out, so we haven’t really gotten a chance to talk yet. Maybe the three of us could do lunch later this week? My treat?”

“If you’re trying to bribe me out of threatening you, it’s only a little bit working. Lunch sounds good. Tuesday?”

“Tuesday?” Eddie asks Steve, who thinks, then nods. “Tuesday works,” he confirms.

“Tell Robin I’ll pick her up,” Steve whispers.

“Tell Steve he’s picking me up,” Robin says.

Eddie blinks, then bursts out laughing. “You two just said the exact same thing at the exact same time.”

“Yeah,” Steve nods.

“We do that,” Robin finishes.

Eddie shakes his head. “Damn that’s freaky. Okay, see you Tuesday, Robin.”

“Yup.” She hangs up, so he does the same, then pulls Steve back over to the couch.

“So.”

“So,” Steve parrots.

“We should probably talk more about your parents.”

Steve groans. “Probably.”

“If- if you don’t want to-”

“No, it’s- I can, just-” he bites his lip, looks at Eddie, looks away.

“What?” Eddie asks softly.

“Can, uh. Like, the hands is nice, but can we-”

“Oh,” Eddie says, catching on, “yeah, sweetheart, come here.”

Steve trills softly as he settles by Eddie’s side, leaning on him, resting his head on Eddie’s shoulder. “So. What do you want to know?”

“I think it’s more a question of what they’re going to want to know about me. I know the type of person you’re talking about. I know I do my best to not associate with them.”

Steve scoffs. “Sounds like a dream.”

“It takes some work, but it’s worth it. You hopin’ to distance yourself from them?”

“I think so. Especially now- I never thought…”

“Yeah,” Eddie murmurs, pulling him in closer, as if he could protect Steve from the thoughts in his own head. “You never think it could be you until it is.”

“Exactly,” Steve murmurs back, then sighs. “They’re going to want to know that you can provide for me. Not because they care about me, because they care about their image.”

Eddie snorts. “They’re going to love the fact that I’m a drug dealer, then.”

Steve giggles. “Probably not. Anything they’re going to want to know about you… they’re not interested in getting to know you. They’re interested only in their status, in how other people see them. In the stories they can bring back to their friends to prove that they’re better.”

“Well ain’t we just a slap in the face,” Eddie mutters, lip quirking up.

“We really are,” Steve agrees. “I don’t care, though. Once we’re bonded… you’re my Alpha. They have no legal recourse.”

“Would they try something illegal?”

Steve sighs. “Maybe. Probably. Depends on how much this Alpha was gonna pay them.”

Eddie’s silent for a minute. “I’ll have to talk to Wayne, but it shouldn’t be an issue. Space’ll be a little tight but I’ll find a job, I know the mechanic’s hiring and Bill’s a friend of Wayne’s, owes him a favor I think.”

Steve shifts back to look up at Eddie, brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

Eddie blinks at him. “You moving in.” He waves a hand around. “If they’re gonna try something illegal, it’s gonna be a hell of a lot harder to do if you no longer live in their house.” He pauses suddenly. “I mean, of course, if you’d rather not move in, I get it-”

“You were right,” Steve says, snuggling back in to Eddie’s side, happy omega scent blooming. “You are an idiot. Of course I want to move in with you.” A pause, then, “you’d get a job?”

“Course I would. I need to take care of you, don’t I? Buy you sweet things to make you smile? Your favorite candy just because? A flower because I like the way you blush?” A blush crawls up Steve’s cheeks, and Eddie leans in to nuzzle it. “All those things cost money, darlin’, and dealing is a nice hobby, but it ain’t gonna cut it as my only source of income.” He shifts, shrugs. “‘Sides, uh. I dunno if you want pups? But I know what growing up as the son of a dealer was like, and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

Steve looks up at him, wide-eyed. “But not- you said-”

“Not Wayne,” Eddie soothes. “He’s my dad’s brother in name only. Dear ol’ Pa, may the devil be tap-dancing on his soul, was the drug addict of the family. Taught me some things, though. Like how to hotwire a car.”

Steve snickers. “Please don’t.”

“What if it’s your car? And you’re right there watching me?”

Steve wiggles around, turning where he sits to face Eddie and cup his face in his palms. “Eddie,” he begins, eyes wide and serious. “My car is my baby. You are not touching her.”

“Noted,” Eddie agrees. “Idea forgotten.” A pause, “your parents’ car?”

Steve collapses in laughter, leaning forward so his forehead rests on Eddie’s shoulder as he shakes with the force of his giggles.

He calms down a few minutes later, relaxing into the feeling of Eddie running a hand up and down in his back. “In all seriousness,” he tells Eddie, “they’ll definitely have you arrested for that. And it’ll be a hell of a lot easier to do what they want with me if my Alpha’s locked up.”

Eddie’s scent sours. “I was due for a pickup in about a week or so,” Eddie says thoughtfully. “I’ll tell Rick I can’t make it, won’t be his gofer any more. We can smoke the rest of my stash, it’s just weed. I’ll talk to Wayne tonight about talking with Bill sometime soon.”

“Eddie-”

“Steve,” Eddie interrupts softly, shaking his head with a small smile. “I was pretty done anyways. It’s no secret I had to retake senior year twice, and it’s a badly-kept secret that I’m a dealer. It doesn’t take much to put two and two together, even if it’s not right. People weren’t really buying anymore anyways.”

Steve looks up at Eddie. “Why did you have to repeat twice?”

Eddie hums. “Honestly? I kept forgetting to turn in my homework first go ‘round, and the second I decided I just… didn’t really care. This year I stepped it up, turned in my work, actually came to class… hell, I even participated in gym. I want to be the first in my family to graduate.”

“You will be,” Steve whispers. “I believe in you.”

Eddie hides his smile in Steve’s hair. “I’m glad.”

They spend the next hour or so talking on the couch until Wayne gets back, blinking at the boys cuddling on the couch, then moving on to the kitchen. “I’m makin’ grilled cheese, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

“Sit down,” Eddie calls back, laughing. “That’s your tired meal, old man, you can’t hide from me. And we wanna talk to you anyways.”

Wayne sighs and sits in his chair, nodding at Steve. “Hello.”

“Hello, sir.”

“Wayne,” he corrects kindly. “I recognize you.”

“You, uh. You probably know my father.”

Wayne smiles. “Probably. ‘Ve been here long enough, I recognize just ‘bout everybody.” His eyes turn kinder, somehow. “Who’s your father, boy?”

Steve looks down. Eddie tightens his hold on Steve’s shoulders. “Richard Harrington.”

Wayne hums. “Yeah, I know ‘im. Knew ‘im, more like, left soon as he was able. Came back with a pretty little wife from the big city.” He leans slightly, catches Steve’s eye. “In this house, we don’t judge based on who your daddy is.”

“Thank you,” Steve whispers.

Wayne leans back, nods. “Now. Eddie?”

Eddie shakes his head. “It’s his story, Wayne. What I can tell you…” he looks down at Steve, smiles. “We’re scentmates.”

Wayne inhales sharply. “Well then,” he says, smiling at Steve again, “welcome home.”

Steve immediately tears up. “Shit,” he mutters, pawing at his face. “Sorry, I’m- thank you, I’m sorry, I don’t-”

Eddie shushes him, pushes his hands down, gently wipes his face. “Hey, sweetness, it’s okay. A little water never hurt anybody.”

Steve sniffles. “Hurt the wicked witch of the west.”

Eddie giggles. “Then it’s a good thing no one here’s a witch, huh?” He pushes out comfort, and Steve relaxes into him, letting his eyes flutter shut as Eddie wipes underneath them with his thumbs. “You’re home,” he whispers. “Wanna tell Wayne why?”

Steve looks up at him with hopeful eyes. “Can you?”

Eddie holds his gaze for a minute, then pulls Steve back in. “Sure I can.”

He tells Wayne what led Steve to the trailer earlier that afternoon. Wayne stays silent, then when Eddie’s finished, he nods. “Alright. So what’s for dinner?”

Eddie immediately looks to Steve, who shakes his head. “No, it’s okay. I’m not picky.”

“Steve,” Eddie tells him, “you’re both a guest and my mate. You get to decide.”

Steve’s eyes sparkle. “Then I decide that I don’t want to decide.”

Eddie narrows his eyes at Steve just as Wayne bursts out laughing. “You’re gonna be good for him, kid,” Wayne tells Steve, who grins back. “Grilled cheese sound okay to you?”

“Sure,” Steve agrees. “I can help?”

Wayne shrugs an unaffected shoulder. “You could,” he says. “Or you two could go into his room an’ make it official. And do whatever comes after that.”

Steve blushes at the implication, but can’t argue that he’s practically itching for Eddie’s bite. He turns to ask Eddie and is arrested by the look in his eyes.

“Up to you,” Eddie murmurs, hungry eyes tracking Steve’s every move.

Steve nods, stands, and approaches Wayne. He pitches his voice low as he asks where Eddie’s room is, and after Wayne tells him—also quietly—he glances back at Eddie, just once, before taking off.

He hears Eddie laugh behind him as he scrambles off the couch. “Oh, you fucker!” Eddie yells gleefully, chasing him into his room and tackling him onto the bed, laughing along with Steve up until he pushes his nose into Steve’s scent gland and inhales.

Steve whimpers loudly and pushes at Eddie’s chest. “The- get the door, please, Eddie-”

Eddie rolls off the bed with a half-hearted grumble and shuts the door before jumping back onto the bed, bracketing Steve with a grin. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Steve giggles.

“Are you ready?”

Steve settles his hands on Eddie’s waist. “Are you?”

“Almost,” he admits. “It feels a little weird, biting you before kissing you.”

A slight tug on his hips. “We can change that.” Steve leans up a little, nudges their noses together. Eddie pushes in until Steve’s laying down again. Eddie slides his nose off to the side, landing on Steve’s cheek as his lips barely brush Steve’s.

The grip on his hips tighten. “Don’t tease,” Steve begs, and Eddie acquiesces.

He pushes in harder, locking their lips together in a kiss that goes from zero to one hundred in less than a second as Steve parts his lips on a moan.

Eddie licks in between them with no hesitation. His aim is sucking Steve’s soul out from between his teeth, and based on the whimper that escapes, he’s successful.

He pulls back to pant out, “fuck, where’ve you been all my life, sweetheart?”

Steve gives a breathless laugh. “Right here, apparently, if it weren’t for my parents.”

“Fuck ‘em,” Eddie agrees. “Wanna bite you, baby, wanna show ‘em, give you my mark. Can I?”

“Fuck,” Steve breathes out, writhing. “Please, want it, Eddie, want you-”

“Yeah, I gotcha, baby, I gotcha, gonna mate you, omega-”

He latches his teeth into Steve’s skin and he goes boneless. “Alpha,” he whispers, horny and reverent, fingers pressing flower petal bruises into his hips.

“C’mon, ‘mega,” Eddie whispers back, blood in his teeth and sliding down his throat like honey. “Want your bite too, wanna complete it. Want you to feel me like I feel you.”

“Yeah,” Steve whispers, leaning up. “Yeah, please, wan’it-”

“Take it,” Eddie whispers, and slots his mark into Steve’s mouth.

Steve bites down and moans, and then Eddie moans, and he nudges his hips into Steve’s one last time—when had he even started?—and comes as Steve stiffens up, also coming.

Eddie collapses onto Steve, nudging his nose into Steve’s gland, as they both get their breath back.

“Fuck,” Steve breathes. “Shit. I didn’t know it could be that good.”

Eddie snickers. “And we haven’t even done anything yet.”

Steve looks at him mock-seriously. “I might actually die.”

Eddie laughs and starts sucking a bruise into Steve’s jaw. “Nah,” he pulls back to say. “I’ll be careful with you.”

“Fuck,” Steve mutters. “Eddie, can’t go again this soon.” He pushes ineffectually at Eddie’s shoulder, and Eddie moves away from his jaw, kissing up his cheek and over to his mouth instead.

“I wanna say something crazy right now,” he tells Steve.

Steve’s eyebrows raise. “I doubt anything could be crazier than asking an Alpha you barely know to mate them.”

Eddie crawls up Steve’s body and rolls them over on the their sides. Says into Steve’s hair, “I love you.”

Steve pulls back to see his face. “You do?”

Eddie nods. “I know it’s insane, and way too soon-”

Steve bursts into tears.

Eddie’s heart drops somewhere into his left thigh. “Baby?”

Steve cries harder, but he’s still scenting sweet as pie, and Eddie is thoroughly confused.

He decides to give Steve a few minutes, and eventually he calms down, wiping at his face and sniffling. “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Eddie tells him softly. “I’m just confused.”

“I just…” Steve waves a hand around, laughs at himself a little. “I fall fast, and I fall hard, and I’ve never… I’ve never met anyone who falls like I do. And it’s always me getting left with the broken heart. So for you to say it first, and after, like, three hours… I mean, yeah, it’s insane, but holy shit, Eddie, I love you too.”

“Oh,” Eddie says. “Good.”

Steve giggles, pressing back into Eddie’s chest. “Yeah. Good.”

Eddie sighs, wraps Steve up in a hug. “Now there’s just one thing to figure out.”

“What’s that?”

Eddie hums. “It’s not really an if Wayne heard us. These walls are ‘bout as thick as paper. So the question is, do you think we can sneak out the window, escape to North Dakota, and change our names?”

Steve giggles again. “Change our names? Who’d you be?”

“Hm,” Eddie thinks. “I always liked the name Joseph.”

Steve pulls back. “No!”

Eddie blinks. “No?”

“That’s my middle name!”

“Oh, shit!” Eddie laughs. “No wonder I like it!” He nudges Steve’s cheek with his nose. “What name would you choose?”

Steve sighs, settles back into Eddie’s chest. “I like the name Elias,” he admits softly.

Eddie’s quiet for a few moments. “Can I say something else crazy?”

“Hm?”

“I like Joseph Elias. As a baby name.”

Steve’s arms tighten around Eddie’s waist. “Yeah,” he breathes out. “Me too.”

A little over a year later, Steve holds Joseph in his arms as Eddie watches. “Our North Dakota boy,” Eddie murmurs, petting over Steve’s hair.

“Ours,” Steve agrees quietly, smiling up at Eddie.

[vespidclan]

Mother’s Return

To be mended you must be condemned.

After many weeks of tinkering and drawing and editing, I did it! It’s finished!!! I’m so thrilled to finally see the finished outcome :)

The story and explanation will be under the cut

Way back then in Pineclan, Moththorn had a young kit, Snakekit, who she loved deeply. But around this time, horrible thoughts and visions festered in her head that put her down, so she’d often isolate herself from the clan. Snakekit spent the rest of her kithood with her mother absent and wondering why she no longer smiles at her or plays with her. Even in Vespidclan she wonders why her mom ‘left’ her family so abruptly… It is why Snakevalley decided to become the mother she wished for. She fostered an abandoned kit, Fallenkit. (now grown and named Fallenfox) And has now taken two more under her care, Vinekit and Stonekit.

Something terrible would happen to her sister, Heartflicker, the only Vespidclan healer, which left her injured and unable to work. In need of a cat to quickly take over her duties, Heartflicker picks Stonekit as her apprentice to take her role. This was fine, Stonekit had been taught about some herbs and remedies prior… but Stonekit was only 4 moons old. It made Snakevalley furious, and much more on the next moon, she’d have to see her young daughter become so stressed with her new duties. She tried to reason with Heartflicker. And she’d argue with the leader, Iciclestar, her other sister, to put a stop to it. But neither of them agreed to follow through. Snakevalley ran off in a fit of anger.

She was still crossed, but she realized that she can’t do anything to stop it. The only thing she can do was to be there for Stonepaw through and through. After all, she can’t abandon Stonepaw on this. Not like Moththorn did. Before she returned to camp, she heard a loud crash, coming from the thunderpath. A cat had been crushed by a monster, and he was still breathing! She rushed over to rescue him- and was stopped by some force. Suddenly, the world changed around her. Like she was in a completely different area.

And then she saw it. A strange, flat version of… herself. It didn’t move. It wasn’t alive. But it was definitely her. It felt like she shouldn’t have seen this, and she really shouldn’t have. But she made sure that she did. And she made sure that Snakevalley will not recover from the things she learned and saw from that experience.

Snakevalley awoke back in her clan… Broken. After everything she’s worked for, everything she’s put her faith in, doing what she can to have the best life she always wanted… It didn’t matter. It wasn’t real. She wasn’t real. She was just a flat object. All these thoughts made her go into isolation, and no one understood why. Even though they wanted to, it felt too awkward and tense for her family to check on her. They thought leaving her alone would give her some peace.

It gave her the exact opposite.

404 wanted her mentality to dwindle to no return, just like hers did. It wasn’t just because Snakevalley was an obstacle- Snakevalley had everything she wanted. She was blessed with kits. She was blessed with a clan who respected her. Blessed with love. It was everything she wanted to have. And seeing a cat so close to her have all of these things, seeing her dazzle and shine, it was a disgrace to everything she went through. It was indignation. She hated Snakevalley. It was hatred. And she was plagued by these malicious voices of hate, she gave into them. 404 made her decision and she was keen on fulfilling it.

And fulfilled it she did. 404 was relentless to her. She made sure the negative thoughts never ceased. And once the time arrived, when she saw that Snakevalley was at her most vulnerability… she gave Snakevalley death berries. She wanted her to eat them. But watching Snakevalley gaze upon her dark predicament made 404 feel… remorseful. A ‘human’ feeling, finally, after all this agony of anger. But not a good one. She saw herself in Snakevalley, yes. How she hated seeing that memory. But behind that reflection, from the cracked mirror, there was the daughter she left behind. The one who believed she hated her in kithood. The one who was put into the same anguish she experienced. In the same situation, as the two both held the same plant in their paw… But 404 made her decision and Snakevalley made hers.

Neither can undo what’s been done.

Snakevalley believed that her family hated her. She thought that she didn’t deserve to live alongside them, knowing what their true existence is. Snakevalley… believed that she was better off dying with this knowledge. She didn’t want to die. And yet, 404’s influence had done enough.

Snakevalley ate the death berries. 404 hoped that perhaps a part of Snakevalley recognized her during her final moments… That was wishful thinking. Nonetheless, Snakevalley died. Her plan worked. And she would have to join her in Out Of Bounds just like the others.

…But this time, 404 has other intentions for her.

She needed to fix her.

And 404 remembered… why mercy was not worth pursuing.

The corruption festers.

I had such a blast working on this. I’m very happy to draw my beloved Snakevalley again. Maybe I could do something like this again in the future, but for now I’ll resume the comics! Once again I hope you all liked what the video offered and the thorough explanation I gave for the events :’)

[merchen-aeravellae]

Deep in the Forest

Yandere Enemy x Reader

Warning: decapitation, death, war mentions

Two kingdoms engulfed in a conflict that spans generations, peace is no longer an option, and the thirst for revenge permeates the entire surrounding land. But battles are no longer the darkest things you can encounter in this desolate place.

°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●

Yandere Enemy, who is a warrior, trains day and night with the purpose of protecting his rulers and his people from the threat posed by the neighboring kingdom.

Yandere Enemy, like the rest of the inhabitants of Nocheblanca kingdom, grew up with the idea that the Rosazul kingdom was eternal enemies of Nocheblanca and should be eliminated, but they are currently in a temporary ceasefire.

Yandere Enemy was training deep in the forest that connects both kingdoms, as he did every day, when he heard a noise behind a tree.

Yandere Enemy was surprised to find another person outside the grounds of the kingdom but quickly shifted to a battle stance when he noticed that it was a person from Rosazul.

Yandere Enemy expected to fight you, but all you did was raise your hands in a peaceful gesture and stepped back to give him space.

Yandere Enemy examined you from head to toe, and by your attire, he could tell you were a type of healer. He lowered his sword slightly but remained alert in case you made any movements that could indicate a fight.

Yandere Enemy only looked at you for a few more minutes, and when he realized you weren't leaving, he decided to leave first to break the awkwardness that had enveloped both of you. However, that wouldn't be the last time you two would encounter each other.

Yandere Enemy began to notice your presence every time he went to the forest to train, and no matter how much he changed his location, you always seemed to find him. At first, he threatened to kill you to be left alone, but when that didn't seem to work, he simply ignored you.

Yandere Enemy injured his hand one day while training but decided to continue as if nothing had happened. When you noticed this, you decided to help him. He refused at first, but when he realized you wouldn't take no for an answer, he had no choice but to accept.

Yandere Enemy, after a few weeks of this event, started tolerating you a bit more, and even had a couple of conversations that weren't threats. Unbeknownst to him, he was starting to feel comfortable with your presence.

Yandere Enemy, who began to hate himself, after months of interacting with you, came to the conclusion that he had developed romantic feelings for you. These feelings were forbidden, but he couldn't stop them he didn't want them to stop and they grew with each passing day.

Yandere Enemy knows that this would be considered treason to his homeland, but every time he saw you smile, that thought faded from his mind.

Yandere Enemy gathered the courage to confess his feelings to you, fearing rejection or the possibility that you might never want to see him again. He became the happiest man in the world when you admitted to having feelings for him too.

Yandere Enemy no longer went to the forest to improve his fighting skills; now his reason for going was you. He always brought an object that might interest you, or he would wait for you with a picnic.

Yandere Enemy was surprised when you told him that you had knowledge of healing and medicinal herbs because it had been a practice in your family for generations. It was also the reason why you were in the forest the first time you met.

Yandere Enemy, knowing you two couldn't hide forever and fearing what would happen if both were discovered, he asked begged you to escape together. Far away from both kingdoms, far from the fear of being separated, he wanted to find a place where you could create a life in peace, a place where you could be happy.

Yandere Enemy jumped for joy when you accepted his proposal. He couldn't help but embrace you, and for that brief moment, everything was happiness, until it wasn't.

Yandere Enemy returned to his home in Nocheblanca to start packing all his valuable belongings and clothes for the long journey ahead for both of you. However, halfway through packing, screams and lamentations were heard outside his house.

Yandere Enemy discovered that the heir of Nocheblanca and his guards had been killed while they were out hunting, including Yandere Enemy's brother, who was one of the personal guards of the Prince.

Yandere Enemy saw red the moment he learned that his brother had been murdered, probably by warriors from Rosazul. At that moment, all the hatred he had for them, which had been buried deep in his mind because you had occupied it, resurfaced.

Yandere Enemy, who began to plan his revenge, completely forgetting the plan to escape with you. His brother was one of the few people important to him, and now he was gone. Convincing the population of Nocheblanca to attack Rosazul was not difficult for him, and by the dawn of the sixth day, Rosazul had fallen. The royal family was in the dungeons, awaiting execution, but not before being tortured in the cruelest manner possible.

Yandere Enemy had a reality check at that moment. In his pursuit of revenge, he left you standing on the same day you two were supposed to escape together. Panic and terror consumed him as he searched for you among the prisoners, in the forest, and in the place he feared the most—among the corpses. But there was no trace of you.

Yandere Enemy became a war hero; now he had enough power to save you from the cruel fate of the rest of the inhabitants of Rosazul but it seemed like you had vanished into the air. He searched for you for two months and as more time passed, madness began to take hold of his mind, and regret consumed his bones.

Yandere Enemy decided to kill the heir to the throne, wanting to take revenge on the person "responsible" for keeping him away from you. If it weren't for the prince and his guards, the two of you would be living your best lives in a distant place.

Yandere Enemy didn't stop there. To make him suffer more, he decided that his entire family should witness his inevitable death. The guillotine and the prince were ready, with all other family members in a row, bound arms and sacks over their heads.

Yandere Enemy, who witnessed the exact moment when the heir's head was severed and when the sacks were removed from the heads of the royalty, he wanted to die at that moment. Now he understood why he never found your whereabouts, why he couldn't locate you—because you were with your family, in the dungeon.

Yandere Enemy never imagined that you were a member of the royalty of Rosazul, but he couldn't be angry with you for that. He knows that everyone makes mistakes, and he forgives you for not telling him earlier, just as you will forgive him for what he did to your kingdom and family.

Yandere Enemy, who went to the dungeons in the middle of the night to see you, found only a pitiful sight. You were handcuffed to the wall, beaten and wearing dirty and torn clothes, your gaze lost somewhere on the grimy wall.

Yandere Enemy approached you with the intention of hugging you, but he didn't expect you to scream. Every attempt he made to touch you ended in screams and your lamentations. The few words you spoke were filled with anger and hatred directed towards him.

Yandere Enemy is convinced that you only need a new place far away from others. He tries to talk to you about the plans you two had before to lift your spirits, but it doesn't seem to be working.

Yandere Enemy knows that the longer you stay here, the more likely it is that you'll be killed, so he steals you away while everyone is asleep, taking you far away to a hidden place where no one will find you both. He is sure that this will bring back the old you, the one who was deeply in love with him. He had to knock you out, tie you up, and cover your mouth in case you wake up early, but it will be worth it.

Yandere Enemy who found a cabin deep in the forest connecting to another kingdom, "mysteriously" the former owners disappeared, and now it belongs to the two of you.

Yandere Enemy knows that you still fear him, but not for long. He will make you love him again, and if it still doesn't work, he won't let you go. He prefers to have you even if you hate him for the rest of your life than not have you at all.

Yandere Enemy "I refuse to let you go, I don't care if you hate me, curse me, or hit me. We will always be together, whether you want it or not."

°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●

Extra information, Nocheblanca is known for its warriors while Rosazul for its healers.

[mymoshangthoughts]

the thing about my mobei jun hcs are that i believe two things are equally true

mobei jun is helplessly in love with (airplane) shang qinghua and would do literally anything for him, finds him charming, wants to spend the rest of his life with him, would simp 100%, very in love

mobei jun absolutely hates that sniveling motherfucking stupid piece of dumb shit (airplane) shang qinghua and spends many days thinking about how nice it would be to pop off his stupid little head so that he'd stop with all the fucking bullshit and also, fuck that guy

like i think he finds pathetic crybaby airplane to be the cutest thing ever. and he simultaneously thinks he's the most obnoxious bastard ever.

to be fair, i think most of his hate comes solely from the fact that:

airplane is clearly lying to him, has been clearly lying to him, their whole fucking relationship is basically a lie from day 1 and getting him to say anything sincere is like pulling teeth

airplane is not his type. oki bear with me, i know that i SAY two-faced crybabies are his type and thats because THEY ARE. but its like, he doesnt REALIZE that's his type and it's also the type he hates. highkey, this man has 'uncle issues' and realizing that his type is lowkey similar to his uncle is a reality that he is NOT ready to cope with. so he very much THINKS thats the type of person he hates most, even tho he's weak to it

airplane is NOT RESPONDING APPROPRIATELY TO ANY OF HIS COURTING ATTEMPTS, NOT EVEN GIVING AN APPROPRIATE REJECTION. IT IS MADDENING. try being strung along for many years with someone who keeps kinda giving you HOPE they miiigggghhhttt like you back, but then they rescind it just as quickly. over and over and over until you kinda hate them a little bit

i just love the contradiction of mobei jun being very ready to be a devoted and loving partner while also being very ready and happy to punt shang qinghua into a death-cave, oki? like he's been strung along for WAY TOO LONG not to have some hang ups about his shitty not-boyfriend

in other words, our beloved ice demon king is a motherfucking tsundere. to his very core, this trsundere is dying at all times because he simultaneously loves and hates the object of his affection and feels deeply embarrassed by his own feelings and equally shameless about them. mobei jun is pretty much ready at all times to completely deny any affection ever held for shang qinghua with a cold passion AND to shamelessly announce that this is his consort, his husband, the owner of his heart, and the only one he ever wants near him and the person he cares for most in this world

our precious tsundere king is sliiiggghhttly just trying to guard his heart from breaking because shang qinghua basically sends him every single mixed message in the world and LOOK IT MAKES HIM A LOT INSANE

when he tastes even a whiff of rejection from shang qinghua, mobei jun is ready to close himself off and haughtily sniff "i never liked that human anyway, fuck off. im not crying at all". at the slightest indication that shang qinghua returns his affections, he's ready to throw away almost all of his pride and cling to him desperately

i love him so much. mobei jun is so fucking silly and i love it. he absolutely is mad at shang qinghua and holds a grudge against him (for various reasons). but he's also so down bad for shang qinghua that it's a bit sad lmfaooo

expanding upon my previous thoughts of "shang qinghua totally tricking mobei jun into marrying him without his knowledge", i'd just like to say that i think it's a particularly amazing thought with regards to mobei jun's Very Conflicted Heart in mind

like he's split in equal parts "omg omg omg im his!? he's mine?! WE'RE MARRIED?!?!?! HE LOVES ME?!!? HEAD EMPTY, NEED QINGHUA, WHERE QINGHUA, MUST QINGHUA, LOVE QINGHUA, AHHHHHHHHH, NEED HUSBAND NOW" and ".........im going to kill him. im going to skin him alive. im going to roast him over one of those fires he loves so fucking much and eat his organs in front of him while he pleads for his life. THAT MOTHERFUCKING PIECE OF SHIT I CANNOT BELIEVE HIM IM GONNA--"

[noriimura]

namgyu headcannons’’

warnings: dark! namgyu, drugs, smoking, addictions, family issues, selfharm, mention of death

an: here we go again, part 2!! although Valentine's Day has already passed, but i want to congratulate you, I hope you celebrated this holiday well with your loved one.

he has no empathy. he doesn't want to and doesn't try to understand people. as a child, when he was very young, he often ran away from home so as not to see his parents, who, as always, quarreled, fought or fucked, he always tried to understand them, that it was difficult for them and it would pass, but no one wanted to understand him. he felt sorry for everyone, if his friend fell, he was the first to run to ask if everything was okay, if someone's pet died, he sat and cried with him, but no one was ever interested in him. how is he? why is he sad? is everything okay with him? neither friends nor parents, no one cared, and after a while he didn't care, soon he lost all human feelings, his parents began to quarrel more often and he stopped feeling sorry for them, he just walked by as if it were necessary, if someone complains to him, he always says "wow well, it happens" or some similar short phrase, he does not know how to react to human suffering and feelings and what to say, he just speaks without thinking about how his interlocutor will react. It's none of his business. he doesn't care.

I think as a teenager he was engaged in self-harm, he hated himself and this world, he didn't want anything, he never thought about death, he didn't consider it a way out or some kind of reasonable solution, but he considered self-harm as an excellent way to relieve mental pain, translate it into physical, after a couple of years namgyu started using drugs, forgetting It's about this kind of self-harm, but the white stripes on his wrists will always stay with him, a flashback to the past.

he hates winter like hell, he hates snow, he hates going outside in winter, he takes a lot of sick days just to stay at home and not go outside once again. He doesn't want to feel the cold and the unpleasant sensation of small flakes of snow that lay on his warm skin, burning it with cold

he also has a rather weak immune system, which is why he is constantly ill.

I also think he has anemia, which makes him freeze quickly, whether it's summer or spring, when a light wind blows, you can soon see him covered with a huge amount of goosebumps, he constantly walks around in huge sweatshirts two sizes too big, hiding his hands in his sleeves to keep warm.

he doesn't give a damn about his health, he doesn't care, he doesn't treat colds and takes sick days only to rest at home, if there is a complication from some minor illness, he will not go to the doctor saying that it will pass by itself.

if he doesn't care about his health, let alone the dosage of drugs, he never calculates a gram, doing everything by eye, he doesn't think at all about an overdose and terrible consequences, he doesn't care, but it's all before the first overdose, he won't think about it until he finds himself on the verge of life and death

namgyu has a terribly disrupted regime, because of his work at the club, he can stay up all night working, filling out and signing regular papers, which is part of the duties of the MD of the club, after a sleepless night, he can sleep through the next day or drink a third cup of coffee just to stay awake, often neglects sleep for a couple of hours at the computer, instead of relaxing on his days off.

when he rolls up the sleeves of his black shirt, you can see a huge number of patches on his hands, because of the punctured forearms with syringes, he sealed the fresh blue-purple bruises and scars with patches so that it would not catch the eye of the club's visitors.

he doesn't like bright, acidic or too saturated colors, he prefers dark and gloomy shades, whether it's the interior, some objects or clothes, it seems to me that he can most often be seen dressed in black or dark clothes.

he is very irritable, if something goes wrong as he planned in advance, something does not work out, someone tries to insult him, if someone distracts him when he is focused or busy with something, he will lose his temper, I am sure that everything can come to a fight in which namgyu will strike the first blow.

He has a lot of bruises on his body that appear for no particular reason, especially on his legs and arms, he does not remember where they came from or where he could have earned them if he did not fall or hit anywhere.

he hates stupid people, it's not even about knowledge, but about their development, and development for him is a sense of humor, a sense of humor means a lot to namgyu, if a person jokes funny on any topic, then when it's necessary and knows how to close his mouth in time, namgyu already likes it, he hates pathetic attempts to make jokes from people who don't know how to do this, hate people who joke stupidly and expect some kind of reaction from people, it's a pity.

he carefully chooses his friends, thoughtless acquaintances are not about him, he needs to communicate with a person for a couple of months, communicate on various topics, asking various questions to understand whether they can connect or not. however, a couple of really funny jokes, the presence of individual charisma or a couple of silly old-fashioned jokes and he will already be interested. That's basically how he became friends with Thanos.

he smokes a lot and smokes more likely not even for some kind of reassurance, but for aesthetic pleasure and just because he is addicted or bored, he may not worry or think about anything, he will just see a bright pack lying on the table and go smoke because it is a habit, he is used to smoking often and a lot and he's not going to do anything about it.

[evaalovett]

Percy jackson x mermaid!reader

sypnosis: Percy and you hang out by the lake

The lake shimmered in the golden light of late afternoon, quiet and serene. A breeze stirred the water, sending soft ripples across the surface, and the surrounding trees whispered gently in the wind. It was peaceful—surprisingly peaceful, considering Camp Half-Blood usually thrived on controlled chaos.

Percy Jackson sat on a wide, sun-warmed log near the edge of the water, hunched over a small pile of swords and a sharpening stone in hand. One of the Hephaestus kids had roped him into helping—“Your cabin owes us for those exploding spears last week,” they’d said—and now he was stuck with a dozen dull blades to sharpen before dinner.

He sighed, dragging the stone slowly along the edge of a bronze sword. The rhythm of it was soothing in a weird way, but still boring.

Then a familiar splash broke the quiet.

“Thought I smelled seaweed,” Percy said with a teasing grin, looking toward you as you rested your arms on a nearby rock, your tail lazily flicking in the water.

You smiled, the sunlight making your iridescent hair shimmer between sea green and silver. He had met you a couple of months ago while cooling off in the lake after a particularly chaotic capture-the-flag match. Percy hadn’t expected to find a mermaid living in the deeper parts of the water, but you’d been more than happy to strike up a friendship once he mentioned he was a demigod.

“You look miserable,” you said, eyeing the swords at his feet.

“I am,” Percy said, lifting one dramatically. “Manual labor. My tragic fate.”

You laughed, the sound light and bell-like. “You’re sharpening those? I thought mortals had machines for that.”

“Well, we do. But the Hephaestus cabin thinks it builds character if we do it by hand. Or maybe they just hate me.”

“Probably both.”

He chuckled, setting down the sword he’d finished and picking up another. “Anyway, how’s everything underwater?”

“Same old,” you said, tossing a stone into the lake and watching the ripples. “Found a cool piece of driftwood yesterday. Looked kind of like a trident if you squinted.”

“Oh, speaking of cool things—” Percy reached behind him into his backpack and pulled out a small object wrapped in cloth. “Brought you this.”

Your eyes lit up immediately. “Is it another fork?”

“No. Even better.” He unwrapped the item to reveal a dagger with a smooth silver hilt. “Got it from the armory. One of the newer kids didn’t like the weight, so it’s yours if you want it. Figured it’d look good in your collection.”

You gasped, eyes shining. “Are you kidding? That’s beautiful!” You reached forward, accepting it with both hands like it was sacred. “You really know how to charm a mermaid.”

Percy gave you a small, lopsided smile. “Yeah, well… I do what I can.”

You fell into easy conversation after that—Percy talking about the latest weird quests some of the campers had gone on, you telling him about underwater cave systems and the eel migration that had passed by recently. Every now and then you asked him something strange—“What’s a waffle?” or “Is snow soft or sharp?”—and he’d try his best to explain.

“I still don’t get why you need socks,” you said at one point, wrinkling your nose.

“Because feet get cold,” Percy replied, laughing. “Also, it’s just part of society. Like… you can’t show up to dinner barefoot unless you wanna get weird looks.”

“Your world is so weird,” you said, but there was a fondness to your voice.

“Yours isn’t exactly normal either,” Percy countered, tossing a pebble into the water near you.

You stayed like that until the sun dipped lower, painting the lake in soft oranges and pinks. You eventually disappeared back beneath the water with a promise to meet again soon, dagger tucked carefully in your belt. Percy packed up the now-sharpened swords and slung his bag over his shoulder, a quiet smile on his face.

It was nice how the lake had always felt like his sanctuary—and now it held one more reason to return.

[patolemus]

Sterek fic recs: Fake Dating AU Edition

Because @oldefashioned requested a fake dating rec list, here it is. These are all very funny, as fake dating fics ought to be, so I hope you get a good laugh out of it.

1. Not Your Disney Romance by Wrennefer (Wrenegadeone)

After a long-forgotten agreement of an arranged marriage between Derek and the daughter of another pack's alpha resurfaces, Stiles takes it upon himself to become the most amazing fake fiancé that a clueless, desperate alpha werewolf could wish for.

Notes: Domestic pack, my beloved. Stiles and Derek are precious here, I LOVE THEM!! The visiting pack, not so much, but who cares about them?? It's all pretty lighthearted, all things considered. It's completed.

2. Electricity In the Contact by ladyblahblah

In which Derek has been invited to the Greater Pacific Northwest Alpha Symposium (that's not what it's called, Stiles, stop saying that), and showing up unattached would mean an arranged marriage. When the rest of the pack objects, he agrees to let Stiles come along to pose as his mate. Derek is reasonably sure that he's not going to make it out of this weekend alive.

Notes: Werewolf convention fics are so good! I actually haven't found all that many, considering how common a trope it is, and it's a tragedy because they're always so well done! This one is no exception, and the mini-world building is also great! It's completed.

3. can’t be hateful, gotta be grateful by HalfFizzbin

"Be cool, Dad, we've decided to con Grandma." (Or, the one where the Stilinski men drag Derek to Thanksgiving dinner at Grandma's and she gets the right wrong idea.)

Notes: this one is just *cheff´s kiss* wonderful! It's all pretty domestic and the humor is on point. College student Stiles and the Sheriff are strong armed into spending Thanksgiving with Stiles' grandma, and they find nothing better than to bring Derek with them. Pining and misunderstandings ensue and thus comes the fake dating. It's completed.

4. Gravity’s Got Nothing on You by zosofi

“Three weeks,” Derek says. “Still don’t want to,” Stiles says. “I’ll pay you,” Derek says, and that… that has Stiles interested. Alf’s Antique’s may be a great job, but it’s not a high-paying job, and half of Stiles’s tuition is coming from financial aid, so… “How much,” Stiles asks, “are we talking here? Because I know your family, dude. And it’ll be kind of awkward after.“ “My family thinks you’re some sort of fucking gift to the world,” Derek seethes, like he’s jealous, “they’ll probably be pissed at me when we break it off, so don’t worry about that. Five hundred bucks.” “A thousand,” Stiles says, because screw ethics. Also, the Hale family is loaded. Derek can deal.

Notes: this had such a chokehold on me when I first read it. Absolutely wonderful. Enemies to lovers?? Maybe. Assholes to assholes-in-love, is a better descriptor. There's werewolves, and magic, and it's awesome! It's completed.

5. He’s Not Mine by Sonnee

Derek comes home to find an abandoned werebaby on his front porch and Stiles volunteers to help him out. Surprisingly, that is just the beginning of his problems.

Notes: again, it's all very domestic, like most fake dating fics ought to be. It's a kid fic, Sterek are mates, we have all the love. Not much else I can think to add... it's completed.

6. Real life isn’t a movie (life doesn’t make narrative sense) by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie)

Somehow accidentally insulting a hot guy in a coffee shop leads to pretending to be his boyfriend in front of a house full of werewolves. Stiles Stilinski is living his best life and making the most of his Hallmark movie moment.

Notes: this one had me cracking up because it's so funny! Stiles is living his best life, for real. Derek... suffers. But it's okay, because he gets a boyfriend out of this whole thing! They are disgustingly sweet in that assholish way they have. It's completed.

7. You look like my next mistake by Vendelin

“So, are you dating someone new? Someone who doesn’t mind that you’re frigid?” Kate cocks her head to the side, smiling as though she just asked him about where he bought his shoes. His entire body sighs in defeat as his shoulders grow square. Just as he opens his mouth, someone comes up to stand beside him, snaking an arm around his shoulders. When he glances to his side, expecting to see Isaac, his brain seems to malfunction. Because it isn’t Isaac. It’s Stiles Stilinski, the lacrosse talent of the year, a senior who Derek has seen multiple times from far away, but never ever talked to. In which Derek is a nerd jock, and Stiles is a frat guy, and Derek falls for him even though he knows he shouldn't.

Notes: this one had me HOWLING it's so good!! Frat boy Stiles, my beloved. It's technically not fake dating because it turns into an actual relationship pretty quickly, but it starts as fake dating so I'll take it. Stiles is an absolute sweetheart in this one, I love him! And Derek is shy, and insecure, but he's so great, and everyone gets a happy ending except Kate, which is always a good thing. It's completed.

8. All’s Fair In Orgasms and War by bleepobleep

AVN BREAKING NEWS-- DIAMOND VISTA RIDGE BREAKS HIS CONTRACT WITH HALE HOUSE "We haven't seen much of our favorite rock hard stud from Hale House ever since that indie twink dethroned him as champion in Orgasm Wars, but it's just been confirmed that Diamond will no longer be working for the legendary studio famous for producing some of our favorite werewolf-on-human works. Don't fret, Diamond fans, it looks like he's been spotted cozying up to True Alpha Studios! Apparently he couldn't get enough of that one human and then followed him home. Could it be true love? Keep your eye on this studio-- us at AVN think we're about to get a lot more of Diamond in a very new way!" ~ The one in which (almost) everyone is a porn star, and Derek just wants to curl up with his fluffy blanket and watch the Hallmark channel, but work and falling in love gets in the way.

Notes: okay but is this fake dating? Maaaaaybe. It's kinda complicated. Basically everyone here is a porn star and the pack has this studio where they cater to werewolves and have a whole thing about established relationships, which is where the fake dating comes up. It's surprisingly very fluffy, considering this is a porn au, and Derek is the softest goober in this one. Stiles is completely enamoured. It's completed.

9. Wanted from the You Are series by Asterekmess (Livinginfiction)

With the Hale pack finally settled and safe, it only makes sense that something would happen to screw it all up. To top it all off, Stiles has to pretend to be Derek's mate, or face a pack of angry Alphas. He's doomed.

Notes: Alright so this series is wonderful. The world building done for the Alpha pack is also great, and that's the center of the second part (which has the fake dating). I do recommend reading the first part before jumping on to Wanted because it is a direct continuation. Also, it's an amazing au! It's completed.

10. For Love is Not Ours to Command by weathervaanes

Where Derek's skills at thinking on his feet mean that he and Stiles have to act. For the sake of Stiles' dad, of course, for the sake of the pack. No personal interest interference at all, whatsoever. Right. -0- “Why does my dad say that you and your boyfriend are a bad influence on me?” “What?” “Yeah, what boyfriend? Dude, you are not allowed to not tell me crap like this. You didn't think I'd like be a douchebag or something. Right?” “No, wait, what? I have no boyfriend.” “He says you were with him at the police station.” Stiles blinks. “Uhm. Oh shit.”

Notes: Stiles just wanted to find dirt on Raphael McCall to blackmail him. Somehow, he got himself a whole ass boyfriend. It's complicated. That's it, that's the fic. It's completed.

11. Stiles Stilinski, Boyfriend Extraordinaire by MareLoup

“Beacon County Sheriff's Department, this is deputy Mahealani speaking.” “Oh thank god!” “Stiles?” “I, uh, I need some advice.” “Advice?” “Yeah. So, hypothetically, say you met your boyfriend’s mother and sister for the first time ever. Completely by accident. In the grocery store. And they convinced you to help them make a dinner to surprise aforementioned boyfriend when he got home after work. What would you do?” Danny paused, and then, “Stiles, you don’t have a boyfriend.” “That’s not the point! And I said hypothetically.” “Stiles...what are you doing right now?” *** Stiles never imagined he’d be in Derek’s kitchen cooking a surprise dinner with Derek’s family while they waited for Derek to get home from work. Partly because their visit was a complete surprise. But mostly because Stiles didn’t have a boyfriend. Or even know who Derek was. But he’d already come this far and Papa didn’t raise no quitter!

Notes: this is to date one of my favorite Sterek fics. I laughed so much while reading this, I'm not even joking. The whole thing is a comedy of errors gone right. Stiles somehow finds himself pretending to be Derek's boyfriend, only he has no idea who Derek even is and why his family knows Stiles at all. His inner monologue is one of the funniest I've read, and his slow descent into (good natured) madness is wonderful. It's completed.

12. Love Like An Ache In The Jaw by Anonymous

“So let me get this straight,” The sheriff massages his temples, “You found a magic book, and performed a magic spell that has backfired and magically bound you to Derek Hale, rendering you both in agony if you’re not in the same room.” Derek and Stiles exchange a look. “Um. Yes.” Stiles says sheepishly. “Right. And just to be clear, when we’re talking agony… exactly how agonizing is the agony?” Derek clears his throat. “Sir, I’ve had a pole stabbed through my chest and held there for an hour. This was… similar.” - In which boredom, magic and dumbassery come together to produce a Christmas miracle slash disaster. Oh, and Stiles' grandmother who knows absolutely nothing about the supernatural happens to be in town. Oops.

Notes: another hilarious one. Stiles does Stiles things and ends up magically bound to Derek. No one is amused except Stiles' grandmother, who's having the time of her life, here. It's completed!

[pumpkinpastiesandcoffee]

Cursed Experiment

Sukuna x F! Reader ... 18+

Summary: A need to do something of use pushed her on the path of research, a path that lead to Ryomen Sukuna, a path that will haunt her forever.

Words: 2646

Warnings: This whole thing is a big TW. NSFW, non con, blood, power play (its Sukuna guys cmon), unprotected, creampie, degredation, breeding kink sort of, size kink sort of.

A/N: I shouldn't have to say this but I don't condone actual r*pe or anything of the sort. This is fanfiction. Emphasis on the fiction.

~MDNI~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Being such a low-grade sorcerer was not the best feeling in the world, looked down on by so many, pitied or hated it felt the same. If only you had been born like a regular human, you could hide away from the monsters of the world, you could live guilt free because of you’re complete and utter uselessness. Unfortunately, however you could see curses, which meant you had to try hard, you had help otherwise that guilt would eat you up. Between that looming guilt, you’re barely there technique and desire for you to at least be able to protect yourself is how you came to be a student at jujutsu high. You did come to learn however, your talents lay in academia. Studying and analyzing, putting together reasonable theories to help in combat against the curses and curse users. After the Shibuya incident you were more determined than ever to learn and with that your mind had set itself upon Yuji Itadori and the powerful curse that resided within him, Ryomen Sukuna.

It had been weeks now, following the boy around and studying him, asking him all sorts of questions then disappearing into as much of the literature you could find. To your surprise, Itadori had been rather enthusiastic about your assessment, hoping in your studying of him that you might find a way to rid him of the curse and spare him or at least give him total control so that Sukuna didn’t harm anyone again. The curse in question had no intention of helping you though, chiming in on occasion purely out of his own amusement. You’d even taken to questioning Choso in order to gleam more insight on how cursed objects affect a host’s body. Although he wasn’t entirely helpful either, more so from a lack of understanding his own nature than a desire to help.

It was the topic of the death paintings that you were currently chatting about to Itadori, sat across from one another on his bed, a notebook to your side and laptop resting atop your lap. “So, we know very little as I said, but we can expect that they were created with their mother’s egg of course however when it comes to the paternal parentage it’s more of an, educated guess. See, it could be Noritoshi’s seed and the curse’s blood or cursed energy.” Taking a breath you continue with a slight exaggeration, “Or, it could be the other way around. The curse’s seed and Noritoshi’s blood. I don’t think imbuing his cursed energy would have passed on the Kamo blood technique though but explaining all why seems unnecessary for now. Anyway, what I’m getting at is…” as you continued on Sukuna had formed a mouth on Itadori’s cheek, remarking to the boy “Well, the little mouse is not so dull, imagine that. Prattles too much though.” Your cheeks burned red, eyes snapping up at the same time Itadori’s hand clapped over his cheek, a grimace on his face as he apologised.

You should be used to it by now, Sukuna had, on quite a few occasions, added his own comment to your conversations and it was never kind. Usually something about your weakness, hence he often referred to you as ‘little mouse’. It hurt at first and Sukuna seemed to enjoy that reaction, however now it mostly pissed you off and even though you tried to ignore him, his taunts seemed to burrow under your skin like some evil little parasite, poisoning your mind with hateful thoughts that had once been so foreign to you. “S’okay Yuji” you reassured, shaking your head and flashing a somewhat strained smile. You couldn’t blame him, he was nothing like Sukuna, so you were always quick to remind him of that. As you turned your eyes back to your notebook you hummed, a stray thought finding it’s way past your lips, “If you fathered a child, I wonder if it would possess any of Sukuna’s techniques or biology.” Thinking out loud truly was a bad habit and you felt nerves creep over you the second you said it, apologizing immediately, worried it was an inappropriate topic or just plain insensitive considering his impending execution.

“What an interesting question mouse, perhaps you should experiment, be the next Noritoshi hm?” The snide remark sent chills down your spine and Itadori stood up, waving his hands nervously as he apologised again. “Ah, perhaps that’s enough of my chatter for the night, I’ll leave you be Yuji” your voice had a waver to it, betraying your discomfort as you stood to collect your things. As you turned to leave, a hand clamped over your wrist and the sudden restraint had you jolting, notebook and laptop falling to the floor with a crash. As your eyes met Itadori’s you felt that cold chill wash over you, that feeling when your entire body knows it’s in danger and your stomach seems to collapse into itself and leave a nauseating heaviness in your gut. The hairs on your body stood on end as the sight of Sukuna’s distinct markings made your brain scream in fear and as you began to pull your hand back you knew his comments about your weakness were accurate. He could squeeze his hand and snap your wrist like a twig and the energy that radiated off of him stole your breath away.

He was smirking as he pulled his hand to his chest, forcing you close to him as he spoke in low voice, “You ask a lot of questions, it’s … vexing.” His voice trailed into a something of a growl, his annoyance clear as he continued, “So I’ll provide the experiment to answer one of your many questions, it has been a long time since I’ve indulged after all so I get something out of it too.” He really phrased it like he was about to do you a favor and in hopes of changing his mind, your brain and mouth finally started to work again and you teared up as you stuttered, “No, no Sukuna it, it was a p-passing though, please, d-don’t, I don’t want this!” Your words began to roll together in the panic as you began tugging against his vice like grip. He remained unmoved, staring at you like you were a hissing kitten, amusement barely hiding the cruelty in his eyes.

“You don’t want this? Hm, I thought you were dedicated to your studies, a shame.” Sukuna tilted his head, hand releasing you as he crossed his arms, muscles flexing in a way that only cemented your fear further. “I took control for this little experiment and you don’t want it? Ungrateful. Disrespectful.” With your arm free you stepped back, once, twice, then you turned to sprint and within an instant a hand had splayed out across your stomach, winding you with the force and as a scream tried to claw itself out of your throat another hand had clamped over your mouth. You felt your body being drawn back towards him and while Itadori himself wasn’t an overly large guy, he wasn’t like Aoi Todo in build or even Gojo in height, he still dwarfed you and his hand seemed to cover the entire lower half of your face, a couple fingers stretching down your neck.

The hand Sukuna had pressed to your stomach traced up to your neck, fingers curling over the neckline to form a fist around the fabric before yanking harshly, the buttons and fabric of your uniform giving away easily under the force he used. He pulled your bra down next, exposing your chest to the room as your tears ran freely down your cheeks now, collecting against his hand before spilling over and dripping down. A bored hum resonated from his chest as his free hand groped at your breasts, index and thumb capturing your nipple before pinching it harshly making your writhe against him as you tried to cry out only for the sound to muffle. Your hands tugged at his arm, trying to pull it off your chest as he chuckled. “I’d normally prefer to let you scream your little lungs out but, I’m on limited time so let’s not risk being interrupted.”

Sukuna turned towards the bed as his hand released your nipple only to travel down to lift your skirt instead, snaking under your panties and fingers parting your lips and searching for your core. Your hands followed his arm, nails digging into his skin as you tried to stop, your choked pleas ignored as his middle finger pressed into you with a groan. “Even for such a little thing your tight, I wonder, is it fear or is my little mouse a virgin? Perhaps both” he chuckled as he pressed his palm against your pelvis, forcing your body further against him and the erection that was now clearly rubbing against your lower back. The hand over your mouth loosened, giving you space to breathe and you took the chance to beg the curse for mercy and he rolled his eyes as he scoffed, “You’d be better off screaming, I have no intentions of stopping. I am curious though, is this fragile little body of your really untouched?” Sobbing, you nodded “Please, Sukuna please, don’t, don’t, please don’t.” “How fitting, a virgin sacrifice, that should be an omen of success for this experiment” Sukuna laughed, once again ignoring the pleas as his hand clamped back down on your mouth.

Forcing another finger into your tight heat had you squirming, pressing up on your toes in an attempt to get away but it only served to make the monster behind you groan into your ear. Deciding not to waste anymore time, Sukuna removed his fingers and instead used them to tear off the flimsy fabric that had been your underwear. “I’m gonna need both hands now, so no screaming yeah? Anyone that interrupts me will die and you don’t want people dying on your behalf, do you?” Another sob seems to wrack itself through your body and your hands fell away from his arm, your will to fight fizzling out at the promise of death. “I’m going to need you to answer me mouse, I want to hear you say you won’t scream.” As he dropped his hand from your mouth you barely had the capacity to speak, choking out between sobs, “I won’t scream, I won’t, I promise.” Sukuna chuckled, content with your compliance, “That’s a good little mouse.”

Now he pressed you forward and into the bed, forcing you onto your knees, ass up and face pressed into the mattress. He unbuttoned the fly of his trousers, pulling his cock out and rubbing the fat tip against your pussy. His touch might have been rough but your body had reacted how he wanted and you were slick enough it would be enjoyable for him. You dug your fingers into the duvet, wishing, praying you’d sink into it and disappear before he got any further but your thoughts got crushed as forced the angry red tip into you. Sukuna dug his own nails into your ass as he gripped himself and tried to get in further, “If you don’t relax, I’m only going to be rougher.” He sounded irritated, like the burning stretch that had you crying harder now was simply an inconvenience to him. You tried though, you really did, squeezing your eyes shut and willing your body to relax to the intrusion but it had a mind of its own and seemed only to defy you, muscles clenching in an attempt to stop the curse from using you.

Sukuna clicked his tongue, “I warned you” and he pulled your hips back harshly, forcing himself in. You know you promised not to, but you screamed, it was thankfully muffled by the duvet that you had pulled into your face but Sukuna brought a hand down on your hip, snapping at you to be quiet. It felt like you were being split in half, like he tore your tight cunt to fit himself in, a burning, stinging pain that radiated throughout your pelvis and down your thighs making you gasp for air. He moved more freely now, sliding in and out with a deep grunt of pleasure as the coppery smell of blood filled your nostrils making you gag and bury your face deeper into the bed. “Humans, you’re as fragile and weak as bugs” He mused as he slammed your hips back against himself again. Even now he seemed bored, as if using your body like some fuck toy meant nothing to him. Maybe if your mind wasn’t so shattered you’d have picked up on how his pleasure seemed to come from dominating you, tormenting you, ruining you.

He reached a hand forward, yanking your hair to the side, forcing your face into the light and displaying the swollen red mess that was your eyes. Cheeks streaked with tears and the outline of his handprint that had slowly begun to bloom into a bruise in some places. He grinned then, eyes taking in your look of despair as he fucked you into him at a brutal pace, hand returning to your hip and once again he sunk his nails into your flesh pulling a broken cry from your lips. It sounded hoarse, your throat sore from sobbing, from screaming into his hand then the bed. Sukuna knew he was running low on time, he could feel Itadori trying to claw back out and he focused on the blood now instead. Watched as it beaded up then slipped over the swell of your ass, some of the droplets making it as far as your thighs.

Finally Sukuna felt that coil tighten, pulling your body as close as he could, the head of his cock now hitting your cervix with bruising force that had you whimpering in pain despite the odd heat of pleasure that still managed to build in your own stomach. He rutted himself against your ass, blood smearing and staining his pants, the smell of it and sex filling the air and with a low, rumbling groan he spilled himself inside. Your heartbroken sobs only serving to fuel him, encouraging him to press as deep as your body could possibly allow and he stilled, breathing slow and deep, watching your tense body quiver. “Hm, here’s a question for you. If you do get pregnant, will Itadori be there for you and the child? Will he run, convince you to abort it, maybe he’ll suggest you keep it? He’ll definitely blame himself either way. Stupid. Humans are so stupid. I look forward to it though. Breaking him is very enjoyable after all.” Sukuna pulled away, completely releasing you now, watching as the mix of blood and cum slowly dribbled out of your swollen cunt, the occasional drip falling onto the bed below.

Once you realised you were free you collapsed, legs pulling up to your chest as you trembled, waiting for the curse to disappear as bile burnt your throat as the sick reality of the situation settled over you. It felt like forever and yet it somehow it felt like it had all happened in the blink of an eye and you realised you felt dizzy, the room seemed to swim and shift before your eyes. Suddenly Itadori’s voice rang out, a choked gasped followed by a loud thud as he stumbled back only to fall on his ass. Itadori didn’t want to look, he really didn’t want to see but his eyes seemed fixated on the trembling form on his bed and he knew, he knew all the apologies in the world, no matter how sincere, weren’t going to fix this. A silence seemed to swallow the room now, disturbed only by Itadori’s scattered breaths and your own shaky, whimpered ones.

[redux-iterum]

The time has come at long last!

I have been dying to talk about Darkstripe and his relationship to Tigerclaw this entire book, and now I finally get to. Long-ass rambling under the cut.

So the thing with Darkstripe, as Fireheart pointed out, is that he’s always miserable. And he’s been that way his whole life. From the womb, he came out unhappy. I don’t think he ever really experienced true joy the entire first six months of his life. Why? I can’t say. I never wrote him with a specific personality disorder in mind, but it wouldn’t shock me if he had one.

The important thing is that this King Haggard-esque joylessness caused him to act out in the vain attempt to feel something other than anger and misery. He bullied the other kits, he got into fights, he threw tantrums, everything, all in the hope that it would bring him any kind of release from the vice grip his negativity had on him. It didn’t. There was no satisfaction in his behavior, except perhaps the small feeling of power he got by eliciting an angry reaction from adults and a fearful one from younger kits. His family loved him, but I don’t think anyone liked him, including them. He isolated himself socially, making himself more miserable and angrier, and he scorned affection from anyone. It wouldn’t do anything for him. Why bother?

So why did he cling so hard to Tigerclaw, then? There’re a couple reasons.

For one, though he isn’t aware of it, he saw Tigerclaw as an ideal self: stoic to the point of coldness, strong and fearsome and distant, and completely loved by everyone in the Clan, and even highly respected outside of it. Tigerclaw was everything Darkpaw wanted to be in the deepest recesses of his fantasies. Darkpaw admired him for that to the point of hero-worship, and that was the main thing that kept him in line when Tigerclaw was around to tell him to stop being a dick.

Secondly, when he did chastise him, it wasn’t with anger. Darkpaw couldn’t see how embarrassed he made Tigerclaw when he acted out because his behavior would shift the instant he was aware his model was around to watch him and judge him. He also didn’t see it because Tigerclaw, as he so adored, was stoic and didn’t give off a vibe of “by the Three, my apprentice is awful” the way another mentor likely would have, even if he was thinking it to himself. As far as Darkpaw knew, he was just as loved by his mentor as any other apprentice and mentor loved each other (which, as we’ve established on this blog, is like family most often). He wasn’t, but he didn’t realize that at all.

Third… well, honestly, because of those two first factors, Darkpaw felt something akin to true joy when he was around Tigerclaw. He felt lighter and stronger and more determined with his mentor. He felt like he wasn’t just hated and disregarded and avoided (not that he wasn’t these things out of his own making, but he lacks an incredible amount of self-awareness). Here was the cat who shone a light in the pitch-dark of his world, who made him feel something positive. He almost mourned when he got his name, because he couldn’t just be with Tigerclaw 24/7 for the rest of his life. This cat was admirable. This cat was amazing. This cat gradually became, in his mind, his true father. Patchpelt didn’t matter. His brother didn’t matter. Tigerclaw was the only cat worth following in the territories. He was everything to Darkstripe.

And then here comes this kittypet, with his stupid naivety and his stupid scrawniness and his stupid, stupid, stupid ability to hypnotize everyone into liking him. And here he is, stealing what’s rightfully Darkstripe’s: Tigerclaw’s love for a son. Here Darkstripe has to sit, seething as Fireheart is looked at by Tigerclaw with fatherly pride and fondness, and here Fireheart is, so smug and sincere and idiotic, looking back at Tigerclaw with immense love.

And then he fucking murders him.

Now, to be clear – Darkstripe knows, objectively, that Fireheart did not physically kill Tigerclaw. That wimp is too weak to do anything but sit there sadly and watch his father go to his grave. He knows that he wasn’t at the lead of the investigation into Tigerclaw’s crimes. But his sheer hate and resentment over everything else about Fireheart is so powerful that he genuinely forgets that, technically, it was his nephew that did this to him. Ravenwing is the source of his pain, and yet it’s all Fireheart’s fault.

It's Fireheart who stole Darkstripe’s father away. It’s Fireheart who everyone loves when he didn’t do anything to earn it. It’s Fireheart who everyone comforted and cared about after he fucking murdered Tigerclaw.

And it’s Fireheart, the one who ruined his life, that has the brass to try and make friends with Darkstripe, tries to extend sympathy and understanding like he could ever grasp just how much pain Darkstripe is in.

And the most ridiculous thing about this whole insanity is that Fireheart gets rewarded for his crimes! He gets to be leader! He gets everyone’s support! He gets to be close to Tigerclaw’s real family and let his apprentice run around in the Houses and be listened to despite how young he is and be loved by everyone and-

Stars above, Darkstripe hates him.

How can he be at fault for that? How can everyone be so angry at him for lashing out, when he’s suffering more than they could possibly understand? It’s not fair! It’s not right! It’s bullshit!

All Darkstripe has at this point – the one thing keeping him sane and his overwhelming fury barely contained – is the belief that Tigerclaw loved him. He’s managed to convince himself that he was Tigerclaw’s son and Tigerclaw was his father, and what they had was perfect until a kittypet came along and ruined it. He was loved. Tigerclaw loved him. He was proud of him. He cared about him.

And as if he was psychically aware of what would hurt the most, Fireheart takes that one shred of hope and comfort and rips it away from him. Tears it into pieces. Stomps on the tattered remains. Forces him to acknowledge that it’s not true. That Tigerclaw was embarrassed of him. That he didn’t love Darkstripe at all. He loved Fireheart.

Objectively, on some level, I’m sure Darkstripe knew this too. But his lack of self-awareness and desperation to cling to his only source of semi-joy convinced him otherwise. To have realty confirmed by the cat he hates the most was just too much for him.

So of course he leaves. He has to. There’s nothing in ThunderClan for him. No friends. No family he could win the love of. No Tigerclaw. He just.

He has to go.

Does he think there’ll be anything out there? No, probably not. But it’s infinitely worse to live in the same space as the architect of his misery and see that piece of shit be rewarded for everything he’s done. And he’s not going back, ever again. Not to those idiots, not to their murdering, stupid, ugly, cowardly little leader. Let them all starve to death. Let them all die of a torturous disease. Let more dogs show up and snap all of their necks. He doesn’t care what happens to them.

He’d rather die than go back.

[autistichalsin]

Those of us who were raised near Evangelicals (like me who grew up in a largely Evangelical/Fundamentalist community) or in the cult themselves (many of my friends growing up) have been trying to warn you all for YEARS not to underestimate them, and our warnings went ignored because "no one is that evil" or "they're just stricter Christians, they wouldn't actually do that."

The exact same reasoning used when we tried to warn you 20 years ago how evil Republicans were, which isn't a coincidence because they are the same people.

So let me break it down for you, and if any of this sounds too harsh, feel free to talk to literally any exvangelical, who will back this up.

Yes, they are cartoonishly evil. I know, I'm going to get hate for saying this. But if you ignore this point, none of the other points will make any sense. This is the framework you have to use. This is cartoon villain levels of evil.

Evangelical Christianity is, first and foremost, a death cult. They want your deaths, they want their own deaths. Birthdays are a celebration of being one year closer to going home to Jesus- no more and no less. They crave death like a suicidal person, but they would never actually commit suicide because it's "a sin," so instead they long for a rapture where they die and go to heaven while the rest of us go to hell. That is their ideal world- no world at all.

You have to understand that the root of evangelism is nihilism. NOTHING in this life matters at all, except for accepting their interpretation of God and Jesus so you can enter heaven. Your work, your relationships, your family, only matter if they are in service of God and Jesus, and not at all on their own merit. God/Jesus are the only thing that objectively matters. Which leads to...

Other humans only matter if they worship your same iteration of God and Jesus. Other Christians are liars at best and will go to hell. If your entire family dies, it's just God's will, no need to be sad- it's actually a beautiful thing because they're with Jesus now. It's why you will never persuade them to support abortion even in cases where the mother's life is at risk. If she's a good Christian, she'll know there is nothing more beautiful than to die while birthing another soldier of God, and if she's not a Christian, she deserves to die and go to hell as punishment for rejecting scripture. It's why you'll never persuade them that school shootings are worse than being queer. School shootings just send Their Own to heaven, and the nonbelievers to hell, but being gay sends everyone to hell, even themselves for tolerating it. If you don't believe in their God, the best thing you can ever be to them is a potential convert, and the worst is a test sent by God himself that they CAN'T fail lest you go to hell. Leading to...

Tolerance is cruelty to them. If you tolerate "aberrant" lifestyles, you are dooming them to hell, and yourself too. That's why they claim it's oppression to be told to tolerate others. They think only oppressing the "lesser" people will motivate them to become Good Little Christians, and avoid hell. And they think they themselves will go to hell if they are too tolerant to those outside the group.

They are pro-Zionist not because they support Jewish people in any way, but because they think it'll bring about the End Times. They want Israel to exist because they think it leads to the End Times where Jews will either convert or die. They support Zionism because they hate the nonconvertable Jews and want to convert the ones who will- that simple. Palestinian Christians are, to them, just cannon fodder sacrificed in the name of bringing about the End Times. (And of course, other peoples' Zionism isn't even the same as supporting Jewish people either, but it's especially duplicitous here).

Don't take this to mean they care about their own all that much. They see them as closer to human, but still ultimately just a soldier for God. Their deaths aren't a tragedy but a reward/celebration. They will subjugate the women in their congregations with glee, they will hatecrime queer people, and white evangelicals hate POC even if they have shared beliefs. They will tell their children to their faces they will only love them if they are the perfect Christians.

They think an Evangelical who commits rape or child molestation is still a better person than a nonbeliever who spends every minute of every day working for charity. Remember, nothing matters but accepting Jesus, so the former is fine, but the latter not only doesn't accept Jesus, but they're providing support to potentially the wrong people, which "deprives" them of the chance to be converted by an Evangelical who would capitalize on their suffering.

They know Trump isn't a Christian. They know he espouses exactly zero Christian values. They don't care because he is going to end abortion in this country and because his policies primarily make people they hate (IE non-Evangelicals) suffer. He's a flawed weapon they'll never stop using and adoring for that reason.

Similarly, they don't think climate change isn't real. They know it is. Rather, they want the Earth to become uninhabitable, and many people to die, to bring about the End Times. Then they get to go to heaven, and the rest of us sinners get to live on a ruined world as punishment for our "sins." Yes, they want to destroy the planet just so they can go to heaven in 10 years instead of 40. They are that staggeringly selfish. That's what a lifetime of being taught only Evangelical lives matter does to them. Again: they think life is nothing but a test of their worthiness to enter heaven. They don't take this life any more seriously than we took gym class. Leading to...

Every instance of human suffering, in their eyes, brings the End Times closer and is to be celebrated. Death, war, plague, etc, they think it means God is going to take them home really, really soon. They aren't interested in peace, because Jesus won't come in a time of peace. They want a worse world so they can "remind" God (who they think needs their help to do it) that it's time to start the Rapture. And this sounds weird, doesn't it? That if God is all-mighty, and even the Bible says no one will know beforehand when it's coming, why would they do this? Well, that leads to the last point...

They do not read the Bible carefully. They are told what the Bible means by their pastor, and that interpretation becomes law. That's why they believe in "the sin of empathy" despite Jesus saying to feed the poor and heal the sick- not only are they told they can't extend charity to non-Evangelicals lest they go to hell, but they are also told questioning their pastor is akin to rejecting the religion itself and thus they WILL go to hell for it. And in fact, interpretations of the Bible offered by others are seen as trickery by a false prophet, that they are being tested to ignore by God. You can't reason with them as another sect of Christian any more than you can as an outright atheist. They will not listen to you. They have been conditioned their whole life to see you as an evil agent of Satan who wants to deny them Heaven. You may as well put on a pair of horns and a devil tail and tell them to worship you.

Again: we tried to tell the public for years that these people weren't to be discounted, that their insanity and fringe beliefs made them MORE of a threat and not less, that it most definitely WASN'T reassuring that they were just "fringe lunatics" because they were working from the start to seize control of the government to turn the USA into a theocracy. Well, what happened? People stuck their heads in the sand and when they took them out, a newborn theocracy was there.

We can still mitigate some of the worst, but if people keep ignoring this and pretending they aren't going to do what they literally said they're going to do, a LOT of people are going to end up dead. Even more than the inevitable amount from climate change now that they've killed our last chance to stay below 2c of warming.

[vryfmi]

[major book spoilers]

my favourite concept that i barely see in l&co fandom being talked about is Lucy grieving Skull. whether you see their relationship as platonic or ship skullyle, it's stupid to deny the fact that Lucy grew to care about Skull, her actions in epilogue being the heartbreaking glimpse into the new reality for her and her friends after the events of TEG:

“I don’t know why you insist on having it with us for each meal.” (Holly) “It’s that horrid charcoaled skull Lucy insists on carrying around with her.” (Holly) I’d wrapped it up and taken it home, and kept it with me ever since, just in case.

here i want to say that im not a fan of idea of Skull eventually "coming back", re-materialising. it defeats the moral of Lockwood & Co and the growth that Skull underwent. past is meant to stay the past, living can only learn from it while dead will forever exist there. no one should disturb the dead, the past, it needs to be left at rest and let it hold its memory.

Skull wanted and longed for freedom, at first defined by breaking out of silver-glass prison, but later, very clearly defined by the peace of mind. he was scared of death as much as Bickerstaff was, that's why Skull turned his back on the other side, he chose to stay here, in the world of the living. i always read his decision to save both Lucy and Lockwood as him admitting that he could never be a part of the living world (cough could never compete with what lockwood, alive boy, could give lucy cough), so he pushed the two away as he stayed in the room with Marissa, Penelope and Ezekiel.

to me, the best ending to Skull's story is him passing on his terms, not the explosion destroying his connection with the source, but contemplating what he sees himself doing after Lucy suggested him staying with L&Co. Skull declines her offer. and chooses freedom.

obviously, that's my reading and how i prefer to interpret L&Co's ending. (it's also the reason i can't accept that christmas special as canon, im sorry, i hate happiness).

but that leaves Lucy and her newfound need of keeping skull near her at all times since Fittes HQ explosion, her wishful thinking that he'd come back. and i want to see her go through painful acceptance of losing Skull. losing a someone that she never got to know closer. losing a chance to get to know him as a friend, to admitting to have found a friend in Skull, a kindred spirit. losing someone who understood her and knew her deepest fears because these two deeply traumatised teens were so alike. losing something that she chose to define herself and her worth by. Lucy would have to come to terms with how much of a support system she had in Skull. and now, she'd have to navigate without it.

Lucy makes a remark that i can't stop thinking about.

Whenever I put my fingers on it, I got no psychic charge. The bone was dry and cold.

i could go on a rampage theorising why Lucy can't feel anything despite a) her having a strong Touch b) objects that are not sources are still able to hold strong psychic echoes. but i feel like Stroud was trying to wrap up the story and didn't want to introduce a whole new storyline of Lucy picking up fragments of Skull's past. which is a shame. i would kill for such story to be told. (please hit me up if you do.)

but say she really can't pick up anything, Skull is gone and there's not a psychic trace left of him. where does Lucy find herself then? constantly checking the skull with all her senses, wishing to see a green spark dance around the (former) source, to hear a whispery insult in her ear, to feel just anything with her touch. but it's all gone. there's nothing left. no one left. everyone else is moving on, hurries Lucy to get rid of that horrid old bone, but how can she? how can she bring herself to get rid of the only thing left? the only thing left on earth to remember a nameless boy by? the boy who could've been her friend, but she failed to trust him? failed to say thank you?

with each passing day Lucy’d feel worse because she knows how she looks to her friends, to agents, to the ones saving London from violent visitors every night, putting their lives on the line. and here she sits, wishing a ghost to appear in her attic room when she's the most vulnerable at heart.

bonus points for Lucy picking up a pencil and trying to recreate the boy she saw on the other side on paper while the memory is still fresh, while she still remembers. (but also, if we view books as Lucy's memoirs, it would make Skull's bare-bone description even more sad because that would mean older Lucy forgot the details).

what im trying to incoherently say is, Lucy would grieve. and having read almost all of the books Stroud wrote, i see that he has a very intimate relationship with grief and mourning the loss of someone dear to the point where he explores different sides and intensities of it, how each of his characters goes through it, in every single book of his. (i believe, i have three more books of his to read).

p.s. i don't want to be a hypocrite so here are fics about lucy grieving skull that i love to bits:

- i'm still painting flowers for you by terryh

- echoes by menina123

- it isn’t the same (but it is enough) by bluejay_07

- don't wanna go, but it's time to leave by fourohfourerror

[betterbetty]

Little analysis on Misty and the relationships she has with the yellowjackets and herself, because why not.

Honestly, I think one big reason people don’t understand her character is because they don’t understand fatal loneliness. She has truly been living in her own world for so long that she kind of created her own echo chamber. It isn't just she doesn't have friends, she has absolutely no other input. It is incredibly easy to moralize everything you do when you have no connection to anything that keeps you in check. Because you know who you are on the inside, you know that you don't do things maliciously. This is probably how Misty sees herself. Her mind is in a constant spiral, looping around itself to justify everything she does, because how could she be evil? She knows her intentions aren't. I think this also a big reason, other than the fact that she is young, why she doesn't see and never truly will see a problem with her and Ben "being together". She was turned out by social norms and othered at a very young age and now any rhetoric that society throws at her, even moral values, she can throw away in her mind because she doesn't feel the need to live by a "social standard" in any sort of way. Even if that social standard is something objectively right, she'll be grouping it in with a society that rejected her. Why would she live by that? She's figured out her own set of rules for what's wrong and right and a lot of them just don't hold her accountable.

Another thing is that she has truly only lived as a bystander. It's why the woods seem like a perfect solution to her, why she'd want to stay in them longer. She's lonely, she's found a place that is just as blocked off from the world as her mind has been for years. Here is the place where no words yelled against her hold any real weight. Because she is needed here. There is absolutely no one with the knowledge she can provide, at the end of the day their insults are only for show, because they can't make it without her.

This is why we see her start and end relatively in the same place. She is in no way a static character, but the rest of them have a much more obvious descent than she does. Their disconnect from society does the exact same thing that hers has done her whole life; it justifies them. They will never see themselves as evil, because their brains are now doing the exact same thing, moralizing their actions. Telling them that what they did, what they continue to do, is okay because they have reasons. It's why they're so quick to reject Ben, because he is proof that they never had to abandon morals to survive. And it's why they are so quick to establish a hate against Misty once they get back, because she is someone they can easily pin as "crazier" than them. They see her as the obvious outcast, and now their first step back into society is reestablishing that. It's almost how they "gain back their sensibility". Furthering themselves from what Misty is, even though they all went through the same things, is how they manage to go a little less insane.

Truly what every Yellowjackets monologue has kind of dissolved into is the repeating phrase "I am not a bad person because..."

I hope no one takes this as me pinning Misty as an evil mastermind, it's meant to do the exact opposite. I want people to understand just how much loneliness can affect a person and the way they see things.

Anyway, I'd be super stoked to hear what others think of Misty and what's going on in that noggin of hers :)

[fairuzfan]

For Liefer to pull up a Camus quote like this is quite laughable because of how the dynamics mirror each other. In the modern day, we have a status quo where Palestinians continue to be imprisoned and murdered and raped and segregated, denied basic medical care for years on end, all on their own land — while Jewish Israelis (to make distinction from Palestinians with Israeli citizenship, as many liberal zionists love to point out) suffer no consequences for anything, even if they play a direct role in the continued erasure and genocide of Palestinians. So if given a choice between suffering no consequences while benefiting from the status quo (that will not change unless the oppressed take it upon themselves to change their circumstance) and suffering consequences in the form of direct personal loss (with the strategy of forcing things to change by ennacting the same type of violence that the occupied experience on a daily basis onto the occupiers), of course someone who stands to lose nothing from the continuation of the status quo would rather the status quo continue if he has something to lose otherwise. Camus, when he said this quote, was not being righteous or overly sensitive. If anything, it shows how little he understood at the time of saying this quote. Because he didn't understand that an Algerian will suffer in both scenarios even if he (Camus) is safe, and for him to say something like this when people lived generations worth of violence for his and his family's (social) benefit is annoying and just plain offensive. Who is he, as a Frenchman born in occupied Algeria, to say what is worth justice when he only stands to lose anything in one scenario but not the other? He did not experience life as an Algerian native in French occupation. He might have observed it, growing up poor, yes, but he never LIVED it. Liefer might have observed the horror of settler colonialism, but that's nothing like experiencing it firsthand. To be the object of hatred to people who have higher status and more rights than you. It's just not his place as a person with nothing to lose if the status quo continues to comment on anything like this. What's the underlying meaning of this quote? "I'd rather others continue to suffer than myself experiencing suffering once."

I'm not saying Liefer doesn't have a right to mourn whoever. Im not even saying he has a duty to accept the consequences he experiences. But to say something so heartless as "I prefer the safety of my own rather than justice" within the larger, nearly century worth of context, is just insensitive and really belies his true opinions of the liberation of Palestine if he's so comfortable saying this outloud with moral authority in the middle of what is an outright bloodbath of Palestinians across Palestine. It's the timing of saying something like this because to say it now of all times when the entire world ignores or even encourages the violence in Gaza but mourns the death of Israelis? An Algerian born Frenchman and Israeli are going to be mourned on an international scale... but Palestinian and Algerian natives? Their deaths are regarded as facts of life by the rest of the world.

This makes it seem like I hate Camus, but I honestly don't, but I think the way Leifer is holding this quote up at face value and as the height of reason really is annoying. People like to mention Camus' "if" in this case as proof that he's actually saying "this is not real justice so therefore I do not have to accept it," but who is he to say what is or is not justice? The point I'm getting at is the people who benefit from occupation, in this case, Camus and Liefer have no right to determine what is or is not justice, despite their personal beliefs. The occupier has no right to tell the occupied what they should do to get freed. That alone is an arrogance in assertion that is so offending — the assertion that the occupier knows how to free the occupied in what *he* considers justice and the occupied just need to do whatever the occupier tells them to do. Because whether they both like it or not, they still benefit from and are part of the occupying force, and therefore have no real reason to fight the occupation at their own expense — the occupation is a violence that they are alright with inflicting if it means they cannot lose anything or anyone.

Also the idea that liefer indirectly compares himself to Camus is a little funny to me.

[flightyquinn]

thinking about how cursed objects work in most fantasy RPGs.

typically, they wind up just kind of being a big middle finger from the game master - a kind of "whelp, you should have been more paranoid, so now you get hosed" sort of deal. which includes the somewhat game-y trope of objects that you can't get rid of. it's kind of an un-fun mechanic, when you think about it, which is why in most games I've been a part of cursed items often don't see much play, unless it's as a "punishment", or part of a story arc.

...which naturally leads me to think about how to do it better. in the past, I've tried using a curse as a kind of limiter. restrictions or drawbacks to a mostly functional item that is still worth using despite being "cursed". that's good, but it doesn't let you draw on truly nasty curses, because the item needs to be worth using, but also still needs to be balanced.

so, I'm drawing from a lot of sources here, like the cursed shield in Final Fantasy VI, and especially the comics by @foldingfittedsheets, where curses exist to (literally) teach the recipient a lesson

MEAT OF THE POST STARTS HERE:

what about cursed items that have a way to overcome their curse?

it's actually a fairly common trope in classical literature / fairy tales. every curse has a way to be broken. yet in D&D and Pathfinder, most often the only way to break a curse is to find someone with the specific curse-breaking spell.

so, give each cursed item a condition. perhaps a weapon that fuels a person's anger and causes them to fly into a blind rage in battle waits for them to sincerely forgive a hated enemy. perhaps boots that slow the wearer are actually making them heavy with the weight of past transgressions and a sufficient act of atonement will free them. maybe the perpetually bloody doll that gives its bearer horrible nightmares simply waits for someone to be motivated to action by them, either to right some past wrong, or generally bring a certain number of murderers to proper justice.

...maybe a Bag of Devouring. which is technically actually a creature, not a cursed item (but usually classified with them), can be befriended by figuring out a treat it likes, and will not only carry things for the player if fed and cared for, but even cough up a few things that previous bearers had stuffed inside.

the specifics aren't too important, but the idea is that any item with a curse on it has a reason for that curse, and a way to break it. the players can drop the item at any time, sell it off, give it to someone they hate, whatever, but if they put in the time and energy to actually breaking the curse, it becomes better than it was before, sometimes simply losing a drawback, or sometimes gaining new powers.

for an example, let's look at how that doll idea from earlier could work in D&D 5e;

while the party has the doll in their possession, they will all be afflicted by horrible nightmares, seeing themselves as children being attacked by a group of eight bandits with indistinct features. the details of the dreams change each night, and the players awaken before learning their ultimate fate, but the general gist is always that they are completely helpless, and subjected to harm.

after a long rest, have them roll a Wisdom or Charisma save (challenging DC, but not too difficult), or take a small amount of psychic damage.

if the players bring murderers to justice - meaning deliver them to the proper authorities and see them punished for their crimes - the content of the dreams starts to change. one bandit gets caught or killed by the end of the dream for each real world criminal successfully punished, possibly hinting to the players what they need to do. once eight murderers in total have had their sentences enacted, the next morning the doll will be in pristine condition with a serene expression, emitting a faint glow. thereafter, any player may attune to the doll to gain the ability to cast the Guidance cantrip without components (as thought the doll's ability to project what it wants the players to do into their mind was turned to their benefit.

[bikefuckersoftheworldunite]

hey, sorry if it sounds weird but I promise this is not haterism and critique in any way just pure curiosity. But like....how is it possible to like valentino rossi?? like he's objectively not really...a good guy and I think it all would be good if it was fictional but he's a real person?? Who acted like a dick to other real people?? And yet ppl still idolize him and I'm not talking abt sports only, this I can understand bc he's great and all, but like...what makes people still want to talk abt, write posts, make gifsets, write fanfics abt him?? Sorry, I really mean it in no critique way bc I'm no one to tell ppl who they should like, I'm just curious what's the reason behind it?

sorry, no hate anon but this is you:

I’m not gonna type a long response to this because what?!?? but you can list out all the reasons why you think he’s the worst person in the world and more than half of those would be why I and 54746868 ppl on the internet like him in the first place. sorry, he’s literally one of the most fascinating and exciting athletes ever. lol

ps. the purpose of the sports competitions is to win them and not to be a ‘nice guy’ actually. and anyways, he’s a dick and a bad person to you (you’re wrong btw, and you and the rest of us fans don’t even know the guy personally). I understand him and his motivations thought!