#in my alpha skin era i fear

[fizzytoo]

i could go sky rocket if you light the fuse

[eat-yourheart]

Alpha and Second

This is a repost because I was unhappy with the previous version and had to rewrite it. This is the first fic with my whump OCs that I used to explore their dynamic through a 'day in the life'.

A summary of the overarching plot: Alpha and Second are werewolves in a modern-day world where wolves have just begun to live and mingle with humans within the past 50-60 years. They currently live in a city area in Britain. 'Alpha' is very much against this notion and believes that wolves should still be living in the pack lifestyle out in the wild, as far away from discriminatory and violent humans as possible. She's considered a 'radical' in her ideals, and therefore was rejected from the majority of packs in her area. She formed the beginnings of a pack with her boyfriend, 'Second,' who, with her influence, has long since stopped using his human name. Alpha is a drug dealer in order to save up large sums of money to move them to the USA to run away into one of the national parks. This is highly unrealistic, and it is not feasible to survive out there with their human half's needs. But she is dead-set and convinced, so therefore, Second is too. This is not an A/B/O universe related story, rather, in this world, werewolves of the modern era tend to pack the way that captive wolves do. Rather than the traditional family groups from ye olden days, they are gathered as a group of otherwise strangers or friends under the leadership and care of an 'Alpha' figure.

CW: drugs, opiate use, cocaine use, abusive relationship, female abuser, fantasy discrimination (human's treating werewolves poorly), dehumanization, manipulation

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A door slams, disrupting the quiet haze of the house, and Second startles awake in Alpha's nest. It's very early in the morning, and the spotty sunlight makes him squint. Her footsteps go about halfway down the hall and stop, and Second buries himself in the blankets, pushing fear down his throat with his tongue, resisting the urge to shift into his wolf form in the hopes of his scent calming her. He hears her growling and muttering to herself in the hall and the sound of her throwing her clothes off. His heartbeat thumps within him twice as hard as clammy sweat rolls down his palms, his overgrown nails digging into Alpha's blankets at the thought of her confronting him in her wolf form. It always hurts so much worse.

The door opens, and she is in her human skin, her silver eyes glimmering at him. "Alpha," he whispers, more of an acknowledgment than a question. She isn't listening, and when she moves onto him, it's as swift as any alpha's fighting should be. She swipes him out of the bed, and he topples onto the floor with a yelp, half shifting in his panic, his bones groaning along with him. She draws him up by the throat and slaps him in the face before biting into his shoulder. He screams and presses at her chest as she whips her head around, tearing at his skin. She isn't even growling, just silently ripping at him. His instincts paralyze him as she forces submission through him down to his bones. He can't fight back against her, just laying limp and trying to bear his neck and appeal to her.

She grabs at the hands pressed to her, and her nails rip at them. Her eyes lose the fog over them as they flit over the bare, bleeding skin before her. His neck is fully bared, his eyes closed desperately. It soothes her, and she chuffs then takes a breath, stilling herself. "Second," she mutters, and he looks at her. She leans down and licks at his wounds, apologizing.

"It’s- it's okay, Alpha," he breathes, wiping his tears away as his jaw trembles faintly.

"Humans. Infuriating pieces of shit." Alpha kicks the bedside, her teeth shining in the sunlight.

"I know," Second agrees, nodding his head and shakily sitting up when she allows him. "Just come to the nest, lay down. We can-"

"No!" she growls, and he whines and flinches back from her with wide eyes. "It will only be fixed once we get out of here. I need to get out of here!" She stands suddenly, pacing the territory of her nest and rubbing at her temples, her teeth bared at nothing. She’s growing more and more restless the longer her escape is dangled in front of her on a string.

"Alpha," he says, quiet voice trying to soothe her, looking at the floor, not commanding, just suggesting. "Your selling is going well, and we- We’ll be gone. Gone far away, soon. We're close to it, you said." Truthfully Second doesn’t have any clue what funds they have right now, and she will certainly not clarify.

"Not close enough. I hate dealing to humans," she spits, biting her teeth on the words. "They're worse than wolf druggies, fucking disgusting things."

Second looks at the floor, his knees curled to his chest and hands rubbing at his calves. "Speaking of," he says, clearing his throat and rubbing at his quickly bruising cheek. Her eyes meet his nervous golden ones, and he looks at the floor as he continues. "Did you bring any for me today...?"

Alpha takes another breath and finally fully relaxes, the sight of him cowering comforting her a surprising amount. The rage drips off of her like wax and her face softens to him. "Of course I brought your medicine, sweetie." She steps into the hall and picks up her pants, cursing and rooting through the pockets until she finds a prescription pill bottle labeled 'diazepam' and a small baggie with white oval shaped pills. She steps back into his space and hands the bottle to him. "I even was able to get both this time, pup."

Second's demeanor instantly brightens, and he takes the bottle, immediately taking two of the pills dry. He sighs with relief, carding a hand through his sweaty hair. It's been about a week since he's had anything, and the shaking, puking, and all else has become unbearable. Alpha takes one of the pills in the bag. Her mellow scent of pine and lake water is already constantly poisoned and polluted to mud by the smell of the chemicals in the drugs, and it clouds even more as the pill settles in her stomach. As for Second, his scent is so run through with drugs and chemicals that even Alpha has trouble with recognizing his scent, the smell of blueberries and golden-brown baked goods is all but gone.

Second has leaned back against the wall, rubbing at the scabbing blood of the bite in his shoulder, a bruise forming on the side of his face where he was slapped. He traces his fingers on the bite, almost lovingly, reverently. The pain is never good, but his Alpha left that mark - so it must mean something, it must be a gift from her. It just has to be. His eyes are slowly hazing over, and he breathes out a frightfully exhausted sounding sigh, the chemical kitchen frying his brain.

"Second," he hears her voice call to him, wavering in the air around him, and he turns to see her in their nest, reaching for him, all glowing silver eyes and breathtaking dark hair. Second stands shakily and plants himself into her arms, a soft whine catching in his throat as he tries to not seem needy. He presses his head under her chin, scenting her, and she does the same to him, the mix of chemicals coagulating in the air and in their noses. Alpha breathes it in deep anyway, tasting it as the scent rolls over her tongue.

"Everything will be so much better once we get out of here," she hums, her voice far too calm, somewhere far away from Second, from their bed. "The trees and the dirt and the fresh air; it's where wolves are meant to be. Not anywhere near these fucking poor excuses for animals." Alpha's eyes shut, and the memories of being hit and spat at just for existing in public wash over her, fueling her anger, muted by opiates. A rock is thrown at her face; she bites at it, even though it does not exist here in this time and place.

"It will be better," Second agrees, squeezing her soft naked form in his arms, her skin thin and yet so tough to the world beneath his hold. Once we're out there, you won't have a reason to hit me, he thinks. Once we're there, you won't be angry anymore.

They are resting in a semi-warm silence when there is knocking on the front door. Alpha growls loud and snaps out a short barking sound. She shoves Second off of her and steps into the hall, throwing her clothes back on hastily.

The door opens to one of her fellow dealers in the wolf circles, the irritation in her look falling away slightly. "Oh, Noah,” she blinks at him hazily. She hadn’t expected him to be out of prison yet. Has it really been that long? Is she losing that much time to the stress? “What are you doing here?"

"Hey Irene," he says, his gaze playfully shifting around to see if anyone may be watching. He glimmers at her happily, his brown eyes reflecting the sun at her like he’s the happiest pup in the world. "We just got a shipment in, I was wonderin' if you were low on anything an' needed a fill-up." He has a thick Northern accent, thicker than hers, that rumbles in his chest. He speaks about drugs like it’s dinner table conversation. "Was also wonderin' how the plans are going," he adds, a biting disbelief in his voice.

Alpha sighs, closing her eyes for a moment as her drugged brain fights to keep up with him. "I do need to fill up on some inventory, but not now now. Don't you have an addiction program you should be doing? I t’ought your parole weren't flexible on that end." She itches at her neck and tries not to bare her teeth, not fond of how other Northerners always make her accent rear it’s head even harder.

Noah laughs, his long canines poking from under his lip. "’Parole,’ nah mate, whatever, my pack will lie for me."

"Fresh out and already in another pack?" Alpha says, leaning on the door frame and finding something more interesting to watch, such as the sunlight playing on the patio, or hell, even a gnat flying by if she’s lucky.

"Ah, yeah, you know how scents like mine are irresistible!" Noah's chest puffs out and Alpha rolls her eyes with a small bewildered smile as he lets out a bit of his fresh, natural scent of tree bark and sage. "I'm like a magnet for packs, they all want me in the mix."

"Uh huh, whatever Noah. Was the inventory all you needed to tell me? We have a meeting with everyone in a week so I don't know why you came over."

"Maybe I just missed yer stupid face, Irene, is that too much?"

"I'm kind of distracted as of late, Noah."

Noah chuffs and runs a hand over his blonde-tipped braids. "Well, 'scuse me, I just figured we-"

"We're still friends, yes, obviously. But you know I've got more important goals right now.” She clucks her tongue at him and runs a hand down her yellow-grey face. “I need to go lay down, okay? Had a late night."

Noah deflates on her patio, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just don't get so bloody obsessed over it, s'all, yeah? Take that boyfriend of yours out and have drinks with my pack sometime."

"Maybe," she lies. "Bye now, Noah."

The door closes on his dejected face and she stares at the back of the door with her teeth bared until his scent retreats. She sucks in air sharply, but the tenseness of her shoulders won't leave. She shakes out her hands and growls loudly, pacing, pacing, even if her territory isn’t in danger, she needs out, out, out, she needs-

"Alpha, who was that? Are you okay?" Second is at the corner of the hall that leads into the kitchen, his eyes raking over her nervously.

"Fine," she spits. "Just need to medicate." She stalks past him, her shoulder nearly bumping him as she restrains herself from hitting him just for being near her. "Cook me something," she mutters as she passes.

Second sucks down oxygen finally once she's entered the bedroom, his hackles raised by her strained and angry demeanor. He swallows heavily, his spit thick with hunger and thirst, and shakily stumbles to the fridge. Maybe he should eat. He's still so floaty and far away, but surely he can handle cooking. When he grabs through the air his hands feel far from his body, but he manages to open the small door and glances over the meager amounts of food left for him to use. There's meat, though, pork, and some barbecue sauce. He perks up a bit as the thought of hot food passes by his head like a cartoonish floating pie – as a bonus it will improve Alpha’s mood as well, or so he hopes. He tries to grab the pack of meat and misses, having to shake his head out with a tiny growl and try again.

He manages to set up the crock pot fine and sets the meat cooking in the sauce and some salt and pepper he managed to find in the cabinets. He sits at the table to wait, his head in his arms. Time passes like spoiled milk in texture, slow and thick with a hint of sourness that never leaves him. After several, or maybe just a few, moments, his shoulder burns with pain from the wound and with a breath to steel himself, he goes to the bathroom to at least try and clean it up.

The first aid kit is on its bare bones content wise, but there's antiseptic cream and bandages. His hands are shaking so much, and he keeps slipping as he tries to set the bandages right despite the awkward angle. Shaking out his head again, he tries to ground himself, leaning his hands against the sink, looking down at the porcelain. His foggy gaze traces up to the mirror, beholding himself in all his glory.

It's been hard to recognize that person in the glass lately. He still has golden eyes, at least. But he's so, so thin, and there are dark circles under his eyes even without the bruises. There are a few brown and yellow healing ones on his forehead and arms, making a collage of color with the new bright purple and red one blooming on his cheek and eye. His cheeks are a bit sunken, he notes while his eyes rest there, and he can see the ribs in his chest. His hair is still a bit dyed on the top – the one full piece of ‘himself’ he still insists on clinging to. The blonde is starting to grow out, though. He doesn't know if Alpha will budget in hair dye. With the fiftieth sigh of the day he closes his eyes to the bright lights of the bathroom.

In the yellow tinted light and slight grime of his home, Second goes back to bandaging, looking at himself having grounded him. He's able to wrap it properly this time, ending up having to go around his chest in order to secure it. I really look beaten up now, he chuckles to himself humorlessly, brushing his bangs out of his face.

It took a good hour to clean himself up, apparently, because the egg timer on the stove begins to go off as he stumbles back into the kitchen. The pork is soft and nice, and he smiles as he takes in the good scents, turning them over in his mind, proud of himself. The food smells divine to his hungry self, though it may just be the ever-good scent of barbecue.

"Alpha?" he calls, knocking on and opening the door to the dim bedroom. She's nearly limp on the bed, and her scent reeks. His nose wrinkles up and he clears his throat to hide a cough. "I'm done with the food, if you want me to bring it to you?” He steps into the room and walks over to her. The bedside table has a remnant of white powder and a rolled-up piece of paper, and Second wrings his hands. The cold sweat is clinging to his skin again as he wishes it were fur, out there in the wild like she says.

Alpha's pupils are wide, but she looks at him, smelling the air as though just processing his presence. She's on high alert despite that, and her hand shoots out to grab his arm, too tight, too tight.

"Sec- second," she grumbles. "What're you doing?"

"I cooked? L-like you asked?" He can feel his breath picking up in speed, teeth growing in his mouth as his survival mechanisms kick in and topple him wolfward.

"Cooked.” She blinks at him, slow, as her expression furls as if confused. “What?"

"There was pork, made- made barbecue," he says, resting a hand on her own as he tries to stay calm.

Alpha stands up, not letting go of his arm and pulling him along with her to the kitchen. Second stumbles with her with a soft yelp, heart pounding. Her hand releases him, and Second can feel another bruise forming on top of an old one. She approaches the crock pot, and she smells at it, eyes closed as she opens her mouth to let the scent in.

"Ha. Seems good, pup. Seems-" Alpha leans over suddenly with a groan, supporting herself on the kitchen counter. "Ugh, feel sick, fuck me." With a sudden belting of a laugh, she stands straight. She keeps shaking her hands out, eyes flitting around. "Serve me some," she snaps, stumbling to sit at the table.

Second jumps to action instantly, pulling down a plate with trembling hands, fumbling and cursing at himself.

"Calm down," she laughs.

"Sorry, sorry- Feel anxious, Alpha."

Alpha sighs languidly and, still in her pants from answering the door, she pulls the bag of white pills out. "Here, medicate. My sweet dumb thing."

Second nods and takes a pill from her. "What is it?" he asks only after swallowing it.

"Vicodin," she says. "Serve me, Second."

"Right, yes Alpha." Second prepares her plate and sets it in front of her, the pork being put onto slices of bread for her. Second shifts in place as his nakedness begins to embarrass him, at the dinner table like this. He's used to being naked, but he always feels so awkward whenever she's wearing clothes and he isn't. He hopes that he can put some clothes on before he sits down. “I might- might put some pants on. Can I have some when I’m back?"

Alpha snorts out a laugh, her teeth baring at him, her eyes sizing him up in a nonsensical disbelief. "'Can you have some,' did I tell you to make it for yourself, or me?" Second freezes, silent. "Answer me," she snaps.

"You said- you said to prepare it for you, but I-"

"That's right, dumb bastard, god," she groans heavily and stands, getting in his face. "You are such an entitled dog, Second. What do you think you've even done to earn food tonight?" She's smiling, uncanny and angry.

"I- I don't know? I'm sorry Alpha, I didn’t mean to- to upset you, I’m stupid-“

"Fucking right you are." Her hand grabs at his chin, a movement she makes commonly, and she pulls back his lip to look at his fangs, sizing him up as though he’s challenged her somehow. She's so small for a woman, but so big in Second's mind, and he begins to tremble. She blinks and pauses, before laughing. "What, are you scared? You're scared of me all of a sudden?!"

"No! No, ma'am, promise, I'm sorry, I can-"

"You can what? You can't do anything - I got you your drugs even though it loses me money, I get you everything you need- I give and give and give to you! All you do is take and then try to make me feel bad about it!"

"Alpha, Alpha, you just- j-just need to medicate. It's okay, I-"

"Don't tell me what to do," she growls, beginning to push him backward. His eyes flit to the cold concrete prison of the basement as the door looms behind him, the place he tries to push out of his mind the moment he’s out.

"Alpha," he whines, desperate, "Please, let's just go to our nest. Let's just lay down, and you can medicate again, okay?" he begs, trying to smile at her and calm her down, not crying yet by only a thread.

Alpha growls, deep in her throat, and it makes him silent immediately, baring his neck to her and closing his eyes. She snaps her teeth near his throat, and he whimpers. "No, you don't get the nest tonight, you don't get food, you don't get shite." She swings him to the side by the hold she has on his chin, opens the basement door, and points down the wood stairs. "Get,” she spits, the white of her teeth flashing at him and freezing him to the floor beneath his feet.

"Please, please, can we just go to bed? I want- I just want to go to bed." His mind is fogging over more and more from the newer opioid in his body taking effect, and he touches his face, feeling himself crying at last. Alpha glares at him hard, her teeth gritting as she stares sightlessly at his tears. She reaches up and grabs his hair, and he limply lets his alpha drag him where she wants.

She pushes him, and he falls down the stairs halfway, catching himself with a gasp and stopping his fall. "Please," he cries up to her. "Please, can we just go lay down, Alpha-"

The door slams, and Second hears her turn the lock and then stalk away to their bed. He curls in on himself on the stairs, panting as he silently cries and shivers. He can never do enough. He can never make her happy. He bites his knuckle, breathing heavily. She's right, probably. Alphas are always right. He deserves to be down here, alone and useless as he always proves to be.

It's dark in the basement despite it only being the early evening, as there is only one high window in the back corner. There is, however, a dog bed and a blanket in that corner, placed there for him specifically. Second slumps over, but then his body slumps even further, molding and reshaping his skeleton as he shifts fully into a wolf. His fur shines a deep brown with light patches on his chest and a few scars where fur will not grow. His yellow eyes glimmer forlornly in the darkness, and he puffs out a tired breath, walking to the bed.

Upstairs, Alpha has done another line, maybe two, but she wouldn't admit to using so much of her own supply. About half past ten, she starts to come down, and with that comes the awful feeling of guilt that she's hurt her second.

Alpha gets up and gets dressed, ties up her dark hair to look as put-together as she can to go out. Her face is sallow and exhausted as she tugs at it in the mirror, but she looks at least slightly decent. She hates feeling guilty, so she always goes to get him a treat after hurting him like that. She walks quickly in the dark to the closest petrol station and dings inside the door. The cashier wrinkles their nose at the smell of a wolf - flattened, earthy, and just animal-like with no nuances to humans - not hiding a grossed out "ugh" as she walks to the 'employees only' door to hide as long as possible. Alpha grits her teeth and pulls up the hood of her jacket.

She looks among the shelves and ends up picking out a bag of chicken jerky and a packaged pastry. She's walking up to the counter to wait for the cashier to decide keeping her job is more important than hating wolves when she's stopped by a shelf of trinkets. Neither her nor Second are smokers, but there's a lighter with a gold floral design that flows into the shape of a howling wolf that pauses her, staring at it. It's a useless purchase, but it might make him forgive her so she can stop feeling this disgusting guilt.

She ends up buying it, tensely exchanging pounds with a human that will barely get near her hands, as though she’s a lepper and not just a lycan. It will get better once they're in the woods, once they're living like wolves, like they're meant to. She fiddles with the gift in her hands as she walks home, flipping it and letting the warm fire flicker it’s reflection in her eyes. Things had better get better out there. They just have to.

Second wakes up with the gifts set beside his bed and the basement door unlocked. And he does forgive her, because there isn't any other option. He just... has to.

[little-meowyao]

OMG YOUR WIPS!!! PLEASE TELL ME ABOUT "Omega Broodmares JGY", "toxic 3zun" ans "NHS kills JRS"

@zilia1938 NHS kills JRS here

Okay so for the NHS kills JRS WIP is pretty much what it says on the tin. NHS plots to kill JRS. I'm a firm believer that JGY did not kill JRS and I also believe NHS was completely morally beyond salvation after NMJ died.

He drove MXY to suicide and (if indirectly) did the same to QS, so it makes sense to me that he would be doing the "destroy you and kill your entire family" punishment. So yeah, in this, he poisons JRS's food with a slow acting poison, and JGY and QS wake up to their son dead on his bed.

Jin Guangyao takes a closer look, and feels his smiling mask breaking. If not for the stillness of his chest, the pale hue of his skin, and the lack of color on his lips, Jin Rusong could just be asleep. The sudden realization gave him whiplash, and Jin Guangyao braces himself on the bed, before his knees give out.

"A-Song, A-Song, no, no, no, gods no–"

The omega broodmare JGY one is also pretty much what it says on the tin. There is a shortage of omegas (because yk. People kill them a lot), so there's this "service" (aka trafficking) where people (alphas) that are rich enough can "rent" an omega to mate with and have children. These omegas get little to no post partum care and the resting period is however long it takes to get to a place to another or to get bought again.

I'm working off CQL canon mostly, so what happened is that, a little after being thrown out of qinghe, JGY is captured by these people. He stays as a broodmare for 10 years (and 13 pregnancies in 10 years), and the LQR (who's a beta and who's utterly clueless about how any of That works) buys him and pays the price to keep hin to marry LXC.

JGY is very weak at that point, he has horrible chronic pain (esp during heat) because of continuous pregnancy and forced heats and stuff.

Lan Xichen supports him heavily with a hand around his waist as they walk through Cloud Recesses, holding his hand. Meng Yao is grateful, that he doesn't have to expose his poor balance and weak body just yet. "Mingjue-xiong told me you were killed..." "Nie-zongzhu threw me out. He probably thought I would end up dead."

Lastly, toxic 3zun is a fic for a kink meme prompt where as NMJ's temper worsens, 3zun become toxic and mutually abusive. See: NMJ beating up JGY and less frequently LXC, JGY and LXC messing with NMJ's autonomy because "it's what's best", JGY manipulating/gaslighting them both out of fear/self preservation, etc. NMJ is being an asshole in this and it needs to be rewritten (because it's from my NMJ hate era...), but regardless, have this snippet

Xichen focused on the feeling when Guangyao stroked his jaw with his thumb, a quiet, unknowing reassurance. Xichen did not tell Guangyao the tea was drugged, but Guangyao trusted him and obliged when he told him not to drink. Xichen himself can dissolve the drug with his golden core the same way he does with alcohol.

[thesternj]

My top 100 albums of all time (revised 2022 edition)

Explanation: years ago for my 25th birthday i did my first propper top 100 with albums being posted onto my at the time fairly active Facebook but it’s kinda lost to time and my tastes have changed alot since 2015 so here’s an older and more comfortable in his skin list that’s shifted with a somehow even more diverse taste in music.

100.Dead End Kings - Katatonia

99.w^w^^w^w - Car Bomb

98.Black Clouds and Silver Linings - Dream Theatre

97.Rammstein - Rammstein

96.I Am - Texas in July

95.The Future in Who’s Eyes? - SikTh

94.Bite Your Head Off - King Parrot

93.Exmilitary - Death Grips

92.Nothing is True & Everything is Possible - Enter Shikari

91.Wolf - Tyler,The Creator

90.Mouth of Swords - The Safety Fire

89.Grind the Ocean - The Safety Fire

88.Ghost Reveries - Opeth

87.Prequelle - Ghost

86.Material Control - Glassjaw

85.Colors - Between the Buried and Me

84.A Kind of Magic - Queen

83.Beyond the Permafrost - Skeletonwitch

82.Palimpsest - Protest the Hero

81.Deep Blue - Parkway Drive

80.Masters of Reality - Black Sabbath 

79.Metal Resistance - BABYMETAL

78.Maximum Overload - Dragonforce

76.The Living Infinite - Soilwork

75.A Snow Capped Romance - 36 Crazyfists

74.In Waves - Trivium

73.Chaosphere - Meshuggah

72.The End of Heartache - Killswitch Engage

71.10,000 Days - Tool

70.Remission - Mastodon

69.Mechanize - Fear Factory

68.One Day Remains - Alter Bridge

67.Deconstruction - The Devin Townsend Project

66.Sounds of a Playground Fading - In Flames

65.Pork Soda - Primus

64.Sacrament - Lamb of God

63.Axe to Fall - Converge

62.Yoshu Fukushu - Maximum the Hormone

61.Ziltoid the Omniscient - The Devin Townsend Project

60.Fragile - Yes

59.Shogun - Trivium

58.A New Era of Corruption - Whitechapel

57. Grey Britain - Gallows

56.Remain in Light  -Talking Heads

55.Ashes of the Wake - Lamb of God

54.Sentenced to Life - Black Breath

53.Painkiller - Judas Priest

52.Brave New World - Iron Maiden

51.All Our Gods Have Abandoned Us - Architects

50.Eremita - Ihsahn 

49.Alpha -Sevendust

48.Gnosis - Monuments 

47.Digimortal - Fear Factory

46.Ire Works - The Dillinger Escape Plan

45.[id] - Veil of Maya

44.That Handsome Devil - That Handsome Devil

43.Haji’s Kitchen -Haji’s Kitchen

42.Chaos A.D. - Sepultura

41.Slipknot - Slipknot

40.The Way of All Flesh - Gojira

39.Blood Mountain - Mastodon

38.Sailing the Seas of Cheese - Primus 

37.Joy as an Act of Resistance - IDLES 

36.Hellbilly Deluxe - Rob Zombie

35.Among the Living - Anthrax

34.Wisconsin Death Trip - Static-X

33. Nostalgia - Corelia 

32.Fat of the Land - The Prodigy

31.Aenima - Tool

30.Bitterness the Star - 36 Crazyfists

29.Blackbird - Alter Bridge

28.Trees are Dead and Dried Out Wait for Something Wild -SikTh

27.The Discovery - Born of Osiris

26.Dirt - Alice in Chains

25.Scum Fuck Flower Boy - Tyler, The Creator

24.Alaska - Between the Buried and Me

23.L.D.50 - Mudvayne

22.The Fall of Ideals - All That Remains

21.Sheer Heart Attack - Queen

The Top 20

—------------

20.Toxicity - System of a Down

The wild mixture of heavy guitars, duelling rambling (complimentary)  lead vocals and heavy HEAVY political commentary makes this seminal 00’s STAPLE as iconic as it is but don’t get it twisted there is nothing but BANGERS on Toxicity and i can’t even think of a weak link here.

19.Dum Spiro Spero - Dir En Grey

An enigma of a band that never stays still, Dir En Grey’s ambitious growth is on full display here with what i reckon is their defining moment with as much disgusting soundscapes as there are beautiful crescendos and let’s not forget one of my all time favourite vocalists of all time KYO putting on performances that dive into inhuman sounding at times and just adds to the ominous presence this album has as a whole.

18.Songs for the Deaf - Queens of the Stone Age

A concept album based off of the simple idea of “what if we can condense the feeling of what it sounds like to switch between radio stations into 1 album” and QotS nailed it super hard and i can’t just sit here and list off all the stand out moments as it’s all so varied and yet so focused that i can only say listen to this album in full as it’ll give you that intended vibe even in an age where we are consuming media digitally more than ever.

17.Worship and Tribute - Glassjaw

Glassjaw are kind of an underdog band in my eyes, never broke out in terms of mass popularity, but in hindsight are iconic with their very emotional delivery and emo infused post-hardcore styled song structures which all come together with something of a “sound of things to come” album without it being completely obvious about it at first.

16.To the Pain - Nonpoint

An album by a band that the Smackdown vs Raw games introduced me to this high on the list?! FUCK YES AND I’D DO IT AGAIN, Nonpoint’s “To the Pain” is something is a rare treat to me: hard rock/metalcore infused with south american rhythms and blistering vocals that are parts rap and other parts nu-metal delivered by a guy who’s voice is so unique to me it’s nothing short of special (to me atleast).

15. Buiiku Kaesu - Maximum the Hormone 

To say MTH shaped my weirdest parts of my taste is an understatement, i’ve tried to describe MTH over the years and at this point calling them a Japanese System of a Down doesn't do them justice: Nu-metal,Funk,Punk,deathcore,metalcore,ska,rap just doesn't roll off the tongue but it rolls off of the many vocalists of this band’s collective tongues as does their fun word play, their ability to change styles on a dime and not to mention giving us the best parts of Death Note’s OSTs (don't @ me) Buiiku Kaesu formed me and i’m eternally grateful. 

14.MM.. Food? - MF DOOM

OK full transparency, my rap knowledge isn’t close to my metal/rock/video game ost knowledge, BUT that does not matter in the slightest as MF DOOM was a once in a generation talent, an ear for unique samples, a flow that’s unrivalled in my ears, natural charm in delivery, sure some lyrics haven't aged too well but he’s done so much great here that it’s easily glossed over with what i consider my favourite Rap album. Rest in Power MF DOOM, ALL CAPS REMEMBER THE NAME.  

13.White Pony - Deftones

At a time ruled by the dumber Nu Metal bands, Deftones decided to deliver upon the world a low key killer but don’t get me wrong there are HEAVY parts on White Pony that can rend flesh (“Knife Party” being the key example as Rodleen screams like her soul is being burnt from her body)  but what gets me is the band’s control of atmosphere with stuff like “Digital Bath” and the infinitely sexy “Passenger” and let’s not forget that their label made them turn possibly my favourite deep cut “Pink Maggit” into seminal Nu Metal banger “Back to School” (which tbf im not fussed about)...BUT this isn’t my favourite of Deftones’s albums, that honour goes to…

12.Diamond Eyes - Deftones

This is the album that opened my ears up to Deftones in the first place, so many bangers from a focused and hungry Deftones, atmosphere so dense it’s transcendent at points, grooves so heavy Meshuggah would blush, Chino’s insane range comes out in full force from subtle and sensual deliveries like “You’ve Seen the Butcher” and “Beauty School” to visceral screeches on “CMND/CTRL” and “Rocket Skates”, if you’ve never felt like you got along with Deftones maybe you’ve needed this album to get you hooked much like it did to me. 

11.Silent Machine - Twelve Foot Ninja

Twelve Foot Ninja are fairly obscure but i sure as shit treat them better than that personally, they are so unique in what they do and it’s not even funny, they move from heavy riff based modern metal to smooth jazz to reggae to ballades with ease and this album is one of those “helped me expand what i thought what a song’s soundscape can be within 3 minutes” type of deals. Me describing this album won’t do it justice, please just listen to it if you like metal and want to hear what it can do when it doesn't take itself too seriously “but seriously enough to go hard at times).

10.Frances the Mute - The Mars Volta

Ok, Full transparency: it took me decades to get my head around this album but “Frances the Mute” is one of the most rewarding relistens i’ve ever had, this is a complex story that i can’t do justice but i’ll attempt to explain it’s sounds: a progressive and psychedelic ride through a southern american city scape with injections of jazz, prog and rock that gives this such a dense soundscape and has to be absorbed as a whole sitting over any of it’s singles (which i reckon is why it took me so long to fully understand this album).

9.Coal - Leprous

From the first listen of this heartbreaking album, i knew i loved Leprous, the musicianship on display is only second to Einar Solberg’s gruelling vocals throughout delivering some of the most well crafted lyrics i've ever heard alongside having a cheeky guest feature from another god tier vocalist in Ihsahn solidified “Coal” to be an all timer for me and not a day goes by where i don't think about the gorgeous cover art.

8.Volition - Protest the Hero

Protest the Hero nails a certain vibe for me, very tongue in cheek lyrics that are scathing yet playful; however it never detracts from the devastating topics they cover in Volition and how they accompanied these well delivered stories using technical yet catchy mathcore song structures. I don’t feel like I can do this justice but if you need something fun yet cynical and aren't afraid to tackle heavy subjects, I'd highly suggest “Voiliton”.

7.Alive or Breathing - Killswitch Engage

1 word: ICONIC. The work KSE have put in for the genre of Metalcore as a whole has been nothing short of influential, Alive or Just Breathing gave the world riffy yet melodic metal that was easy to sing along with and in the end it only got more about those hooks and riffs as time went on (specially when Jesse Leach left and Howard Jones joined for those also very influential years).

6.Periphery II: This Time It’s Personal - Periphery 

P2 changed how i listened to albums honestly, it made me sit back and appreciate a lot more the music and also it made me appreciate how context can add a lot to a song you may not of been into on a first listen, this for my money is peak Periphery and nothing says it better than P2’s sheer beauty in it’s production being spotless, it’s composition being on point, Misha being one of the greatest guitarists of all time and let’s not forget Spencer’s sheer range on display with his vocals. P2 is a landmark moment for Djent and Prog Metal and i hope it’s revered in years to come alongside your “Moving Pictures” or “Dark Side of the Moons” of the world (but hey that’s just like my opinion man)

5.Nocturnal - The Black Dahlia Murder

Parts Death metal, parts melo-death, parts nerdy and horror based lyrics and themes but all PEAK MODERN DEATH METAL! There i said it, “Nocturnal” is peak modern death metal that covers so much that i can’t do it justice (you’ll hear this atleast once more this list) please if you like heavy music with alot of melodic elements then go listen to Nocturnal.

4.Slaughter of the Soul - At the Gates 

THE Melodic death metal album, plain and simple, it set the standards for bands like The Black Dahlia Murder to your Killswitch Engage's and countless others with it’s melody based riffs and lead guitars and solos whilst staying vicious with it’s vocal delivery whilst not losing a single ounce of it’s sense of aggression that leads to a standout of the 90s metal hall of fame.

3.New Junk Aesthetic - Every Time I Die

I remember the first time i heard this band, it was on Metal Hammer sample CD and it had “The Marvelous Slut” by Every Time I Die on it and holy fuck that changed me, a song that’s less than 2 minuets long that really made me go out of my way and find the album and boy howdy did i find ETID,

This album is a really REALLY fucking great Hardocre album with some of the greatest lyrics i’ve ever heard, winding around and around using contradictions in forms of questions to only be highly self aware and genuinely funny at times in a snarky way only Keith Buckley could deliver and let’s not skimp on the fact the whole band is firing on all cylinders with this.

For years this and Numbers 2 and 1 have danced around but New Junk Aesthetic can sit comfortably as the one that stayed in the 1st slot for YEARS before this was finalised.

2.Human - Death

If you put a gun to my head and said “show me what you think perfect death metal is” Human by Death would be my answer, not because it’s the most brutal or is the most definitive, but it’s that it metalness lies in how it baffles people at times, its brutality is the mirror it holds up to what it means to be human (i swear this is about Human by Death and not NieR Automata,promise). Gnarly vocals, technical and calculated playing and honestly impressive albums for it’s time, a real “shape of things to come'' album and it really doesn't get the credit it deserves as why death metal,tech death and all of the other prog death sub genres evolved.

1.One - Tesseract 

I think this was a slow burn but not in a traditional sense, i loved it on release however my love was directed more at the Concealing the Fate EP at the time as i had never felt that way about a large piece of music before, fast forward to 2022 and i have finally realised this album makes me feel even at times where i was at my most apathetic to life. It’s serene from front to back however it’s not just that it’s also heavy and groovy to a point where it warped how i enjoyed certain musical patterns WHEN SOMETHING MAKES YOU APPRECIATE HOW HARD A TIME SIGNATURE IS BUT DOSN’T MAKE ME FEEL LIKE A PRETENTIOUS TWAT THEN THAT’S GOTTA MEAN SOMETHING RIGHT?

Oh and i would be doing a disservice if i didn’t mention how Dan Tompkins became my favourite vocalist of all time with everything on “One” coming of as genuine and passionate whilst never needing to go overboard, he’ll let the music breath when it needs to and even on songs like “Autumn” where it’s a long gap in between his vocals but it feels like a cleansing few minutes to let the atmosphere stew and boy does this album’s atmosphere make for the finest comfort food.

And that was the redo of my top 100 albums from almost a decade ago. I gotta say a lot has changed but in the end I still can’t convey how I really feel through words but I hope you guys will enjoy the albums I suggest in the meantime :) (I’ll also make a playlist of select songs from each but i’ll do that soon as it sounds like a fun side project).

[shoujoboy-restart]

This would be a interesting argument if it was framed from a societal beliefs being forced upon people or as a metaphor, but arguing AGAINST that mindset that somehow a penis or vagina defines your entire personality.

But it's stupid to argue that since, as always, were the fuck do intersexuals fit in this? What about the fact the first 14 weeks of embryo development we don't actually have either genitals and we are waiting to see whatever chromosomes your parents gave us turn out to do(which is why intersexuality happens to begin with)

But if that's how thet wanna think, what about a circumcised penis? Wouldn't that techinically mean men who are supposedly "always being objective" are actually being manipulated by society into viewings what IT defines as objective for it's own benefit like "acshually women are inferior because ummm skirts! What no just ignore that skirts were used by both genders even in western society until the illuminist era!"

"Acshually Africans are inferior and deserve to be enslaved because of their skin color and features! What, oh yeah no ignore that we used to say that about there religion, there are some philosophical complications about that"

Like if it was metaphor, together with actual objective arguments going against actual bio essentialism then it could work, again with a circumcision within said metaphor as a example, hell, it could even encompass transitioning or being GNC also as metaphors as well (GNC=looking outside norms and what is viewed as right, transition=living outside the demands and expectations of society in always that truly only affect you)

And I'm assuming this is a Alpha Male™ type, so lemme guess, the nature of men is good and right, but women's is bad and wrong, and therefore the men MUST put himself above the woman, wow what a coincidence! "How dare the shark look scary! that means I should kill it in amounts it hasn't ever done to me so i can feel safe from my self inflicted fear and paranoia, I'm even gonna justify it by making nutritionless gimmicky food out of its body parts! I'm objectively in the right because i define what's right by what benefits me!"

Wtf did I just read

[bottomlouisficfest]

We hope you’ve enjoyed the third week of fics from the Bottom Louis Fic Fest 2021! Every weekend, we’re compiling all of the fics from that week into one roundup post so they’re easy to find for anyone looking to catch up on fics they missed. Enjoy these amazing fics and give them the love they deserve!

Love will tear us apart

A fic by skinsuk on AO3 | @wifeylouis on Tumblr

34k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Soulmates au. Except they're not eachother's soulmates. 

—

tell me how to win your heart (for I haven't got a clue)

A fic by hayley24601 on AO3

34k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

written for blff prompt 113: alpha quidditch player harry and omega hufflepuff shy louis. enemies to lovers

Or - the one where Louis is content to embark on his last year of Hogwarts with his three best mates by his side. He's also got the library, his cat Marmalade, and all the Butterbeer in the world. Getting assigned to be yearlong parters with a certain horrid, curly-haired Quidditch star Alpha whom he's sincerely detested for forever, was not part of the plan.

—

in my bed (you're not here)

A fic by dehydratedpool on AO3 | @dehydratedpoolfics on Tumblr | @dehydratedpool on Twitter

6k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Louis fears that his long-term boyfriend Harry is losing feelings for him. A drunken night reveals he might be wrong.

—

Shooting Stars in the Woods

A fic by frenchkiss on AO3 | @lesbidirection on Twitter

82k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

A Tudor era AU. Prince Louis I of England has everything a man could ever dream of, but his lack of husband is driving his father, the King, to madness. But Louis doesn't want any of the eligible bachelors his father pushes his way. All he wants is to be able to do is marry the knight he's been in love with for two years now.

The love story of a royal and his servant, separated by class but joined by heart. Their relationship has remained a careful secret for a long time now, but when a threat to the kingdom forces them both to leave the palace, it turns out their secret isn't the only one that could topple everything they’ve ever known.

—

never been so defenceless

A fic by reliablyimperfect on AO3 | @mmmm_kat on Twitter

23k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Harry always thought he’d falter in the face of danger, because no one can ever be truly ready to see their loved one in danger. Even with the warning that’s literally inked into his skin, all the training Harry’s done, and all the hours he’s spent in the gym, nothing could’ve prepared him for how it feels to look up and see the glint of a knife under the streetlights. Or An ode to awkward, oblivious Harry

—

like the stars above

A fic by princelouisau on AO3 | @princelouisau on Tumblr | @platonicrose on Twitter

34k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Louis has a witchy little secret that is slowly ruining his relationship. When that secret comes out, it turns out that he has a lot more to worry about than just losing the love of his life. He might lose everything.

—

If i loved you less, I’d be a liar

A fic by sevensmokingroses on AO3 | @7smokingroses on Twitter

5k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

harry wanted a chance when it was all over.

Prompt 93: A story based off of the song One More Try by George Michael (but with a happy ending). Totally open to your interpretation of the song. Personally I’m drawn to the lines: Cause teacher There are things that I don’t want to learn And the last one I had Made me cry So I don’t want to learn to Hold you, touch you Think that you’re mine Because it ain’t no joy For an uptown boy Whose teacher has told him goodbye, goodbye, goodbye

—

crowded town or silent bed, pick a place to rest your head

A fic by danverslou on AO3 | @danverslou on Tumblr | @danverslou on Twitter

64k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“Poem. I made you a poem.”

“Oh yeah? Can I hear your poem?” Louis turns on the car and exits the school building.

“Wait.” Louis takes a glance and sees his daughter struggle to open her bag, strained thanks to the safety belt. “Aha!” She shouts when she finally finds the wrinkled paper. She clears her throat dramatically. “My mama is cool, because one day he took me to the pool. My mama is beautiful, and I feel grateful. My mama is pocketful, because his pocket is always full.”

Louis ruffles Chrys’ hair making the green-eyed kid groan and swat his hand away.

“You think I’m beautiful?” Louis’ voice is soft.

“Well, duh. You’re the most beautiful person on Earth, mama.” She pauses for a moment. “Although, Uncle Zayn is beautiful too. But, still, you’re the most beautifulest.” She grins.

Louis’ heart clenches at that. Not because she just said he’s the most beautiful person in the world. But, because of the way she said it. Awfully similar to the other person who has the same green eyes as her. And the way she grins after that, identical.

—

View the other roundup posts here:

Week 1 Fic Roundup

Week 2 Fic Roundup

Week 3 Fic Roundup

Week 4 Fic Roundup

Week 5 Fic Roundup

Week 6 Fic Roundup

Week 7 Fic Roundup

Week 8 Fic Roundup

Week 9-10 Fic Roundup

[cherrysha]

Run

Remember when i posted abt lumberjack a/b/o Uvo? well here it is!! shoutout again to ram fr helping me with this piece!! This is my first attempt at a longer story with more plot. Part of me wanted to break it up into more chapters but I like the build up thats there by keeping it in one piece. Its my take on abo (I know some people love it and some absolutely hate it but the lewding potential was too much for me to pass up) Very loosely based off of this song by hozier

Summary: Alphas are rare, Omegas even moreso. The standard for society is being a Beta, but unfortunately you weren’t born as one. Being an Omega is a presentation so detestable that it’s hard to even survive. In an era where it’s completely normal to cast you from the village for simply existing, to keep you blind from what it is to truly be an Omega, will there be any respite for you? (Yes, this is a period piece)

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: A/B/O, dubcon (since the readers in heat), predator/prey, a little blood, one slap, breeding, overstimulation, unprotected sex

“Do you ever get the feeling that they are lying to you?” you stare at the weathered wooden boards of the porch before you dare to glance at her face. The miller’s daughter was an omega as well, and often you found yourself gravitating to her if only out of comfort. The one of few in the village that could relate to you. She looked so soft in the morning sun, so lighthearted and gentle as she picked at the frayed patchwork of her dress.

“I don’t like to think about it too much or else I scare myself, y/n” she giggles. 

So Naïve.

You mull it over before coming to the conclusion that you and her are not the same. “I guess I understand” 

Her father always says she’s too kind, but that’s exactly what was so endearing. A world where it was normal to treat people like you and her as lesser, and she was still so kind. Absently, you wondered if you'd ever see her again after her next heat. It had been too long since an omega went missing.

“Will you still be walking with me to the market?”

“Ah, mother seems to have found some extra fabric that had been tucked away somewhere, so I suppose not. However, I’m glad you came to visit y/n!” she giggles as you stick your tongue out at her like a child. 

The walk there gives you an opportunity to think of her words. Was denial better than the fear that came along with the truth?

Plenty of omegas had gone missing. When you were younger, the elders would tell you that there was a man who lived on the edge of the forest. He wasn't an alpha, or a beta, or even an omega. He was only a monster. 

The path stretches before you and the heat of the summer sun is almost enough to make you turn around. But you persist, the idea of returning home empty handed was enough to make you ignore the sting on the back of your neck. 

This man, this beast, would eat omegas. That’s why it was important to return home before dark, the man in the forest used the cover of night to hunt; to take. that’s why omegas always went missing in the village. 

You momentarily take refuge in the cool water in the creek on the outskirts of the village, watching idly as water swirled around your bare feet.

When were you old enough to realize the flaws of that story? Was it your first heat? When with shaky hands, your mother had packed you enough provisions for the week and whispered for you to leave? Or was it the anger in your father’s voice when you asked to stay and he bitterly told you that omegas only brought misfortune?

You sigh. No, it was the day you'd found out one of the few remaining omegas hadn’t come back and that truth had only been a hard pill to swallow for you. No one seemed to care, it was as if the man in the forest didn’t scare them, had never scared them.

Not much sooner had you made the connection. Alphas were few and far between, but omegas were even more scarce. The ones who couldn’t find omegas settled down with betas, but what would a married alpha do when an unclaimed omega went into heat? Only the forest knew.

Sometimes you wished the beast was real, and still the lie had persisted. The younger omegas believed it to be the wood smith and while he was a recluse, so much so that you'd never even seen him, he was far too young to be the monster from your youth. He’d only made his appearance in the village every so often, and in truth he hadn’t lived in the area for that long. You let them hold on to their delusion instead, not wanting to be the one to burst their bubble.

Your heat was many moons away, but the fear of living still persisted.

The water feels nice on your neck, gentle and cooling as you scoop handfuls of it over your burning skin. It makes you forget about everything for a second, soothing over you like an expensive balm. Somehow, It reminds you of when you were little, before you presented and the friends you'd made in the village. Small and unassuming, no worries about presentation or etiquette. Just young and carefree. The thought brings a smile to your face.

Now, boys your age would rather die than be seen with an Omega, not that you cared about their indifference. In their minds it was completely warranted, and in yours the Betas had nothing to offer you. You both saw each other as fundamentally useless. No one gave mind to insects, most of the time they were just there. Some were cruel, yes, but most went their way, and you went yours. That was the best you could ask for.

Sighing, you pick the coin purse out of your pocket, taking a moment to count the few coins your mother had given you. 

It was barely enough to buy thread, but you weren’t surprised. Her and father were still angry that you'd ripped another hole in your dress again since it was one of the little clothing items they had granted you. If it weren’t for the fact that the hole steadily became bigger, threatening the integrity of the entire garment, you don’t think it would’ve been mended at all.

The wind swirls around you, reminding you of your task and the repercussions of wasting time. 

With a grunt, you force yourself back up and onto the road, sidestepping a rather large man carrying probably one of the largest baskets of wood you'd ever seen.

Mother says that its impolite to stare, so you don’t let your gaze linger for too long, but the sight was unusual to say the least. He’s tall, so tall in fact that you have to peer up to even try to see his face, eventually you give up and your gaze ends at the well toned muscles of his chest that are thinly veiled underneath a rather dingy tunic. You couldn’t judge him, right now you were wearing the same dress that desperately needed patching up. Still, he was somewhat of an unbelievable height, it was hard not to wonder of his presentation. Surely, there couldn’t be Betas that tall, but it was even more so unbelievable for him to be an Alpha. The Alphas in your town were well known, their large presence in the village applauded by most and avoided by Omegas. Like the tavern owner with wandering hands under the guise of drunkenness and the butcher who stared a little too long that one might find it indecent. 

 as you make your way through the village opening you can feel his presence pressing closer behind you with each step. It’d be easier to know for certain if the wind carried his scent, but at the present moment it was blowing yours in his direction, a thought that was a little unnerving to you. Nevertheless, you persisted, pushing past the mounting feeling in your chest that seemed to get worse the louder his footsteps became behind you. Surely, he was just selling the basket on his back at the market. And since he was a stranger to you, It would make sense for him to follow you so closely there if he wasn't from the village.

You let yourself relax, tense shoulders easing up as you finally come to the only conclusion that made sense. You were an Omega; A Beta had no better reason to follow you other than directions.

The sun still beats overhead, making the exposed skin of your face damp with sweat. With little thought, you wipe it away with the handkerchief stashed inside your pocket. It was little more than torn fabric that mother had no use for, but you appreciated when she had given it to you nonetheless. 

The market wasn't busy for this time of day, which you were grateful for. Less people to cast you a distasteful glare as you silently perused through the stalls in search for thread. It only takes a few moments to find it at a stand with colorful fabrics, pins and needles and textiles that were definitely worth more than anything you'd ever own.

The smile on your face lights up as you find the cheapest option available, speaking quietly to the stall owner you ask for it.

You're met with silence, its only when you look at them that you realize they aren’t even looking at you. Instead, you follow their gaze behind you, to the burly man who had somehow gotten close enough to block out your view of the sun. 

“Gorgeous too, huh?” he smiles down at your shocked face, even daring to lean down, hand gripping your jaw to force your head up, leaving your neck exposed to him. He’s not quick about it either, his nose coming to scent you as he indulges himself in the smell he finds there. 

“And where have you been hiding?” he whispers it, a secret between the both of you that your too scared to acknowledge. In stark contrast, you've been rooted to the spot, too scared to do much of anything as the complete stranger ungracefully takes his time mulling you over. 

It’s a funny thing, he can smell just how frightened you are, but it doesn’t mask the scent that made him follow you in the first place. 

The scene is far too intimate for such a public space, and subconsciously, you're aware of that. You know this isn’t right, you shouldn’t be letting yourself get so carried away by the stranger, even if he does smell wonderful. Nothing like any Alpha you’ve met. Although his presence is completely overwhelming, his scent isn’t, and he lets out a breathless laugh when you subtly try to scent him back. 

The only thing that snaps you back to reality is the stall owner clearing their throat, forcing you to realize how blatantly improper you were being. It’s far too embarrassing to handle, and mortification sets into your bones. The man pays them no mind, instead using one of his large hands to slam a few bills onto the counter.

“Whatever she wants” his voice comes out as a low and guttural thing, hoarse from days of disuse, as his breath fans across your face. He thinks it’s cute, the way your eyebrows shoot up makes his grin even wider. 

With shaky hands you point to the cheapest bobbin of thread, hands fumbling for your coin purse before he grabs your wrist. “What did I say, Omega?” its stern, but all you can manage to do is bumble over your words, eyes cast downwards as you try to ignore the embarrassment settling on your face. He was just trying to be nice, maybe he was a tad bit uncivilized about it, but his impropriety shouldn’t make it okay to decline such a kind offer. The thread is taken from the counter, his hand slowly ruffling the folds of your dress as he finds your pocket and drops it in.

At this point you’ve become a spectacle, passersby muttering not so subtly about just how close you are to him, how rude it was to make a scene like that in public. With a cough you back away, surprised to find that he doesn’t follow, only aims a grin at you as he continues to stare. Not wanting to leave on a sour note, you ask

“What’s your name?”

  Maybe one day you could repay the favor, although he didn’t look like the type to need to buy thread. He didn’t look like the type to care that much about his appearance at all, if you were being honest.

“its Uvogin. Gimme what’s in your pocket.”

“The thread?” with a wolfish smile he shakes his head no. It takes you a moment but clumsily you pad at the dress before finally finding your pocket and dipping your hand in to pull out the tiny wad of fabric in question. The only other thing in your pocket besides your coin purse. Your handkerchief. You don’t think about it as you hand it over to Uvogin, your head feels fuzzy just by his proximity. Don’t even think about how closely he must’ve been watching you to see that you had one, or how long he’d been doing so as he walked behind you and into the market. Right now, he could ask for a lot of things and you'd gladly hand it all to him with no second thoughts about it.

“You should head home. Maybe get some rest before it happens” he leans closer to sniff at your throat one last time, albeit a lot quicker than he had in the past “Although, I don’t think you’ll have much time.” The end of his sentence comes out in as a laugh, jovial enough to make you forget how sinister his final words were. With little grace, you slowly backpedal, eyes still on his before you turn around and walk out the way you came.

You smell. You reek of him. It’s the only thought in your mind as you clutch at yourself tightly, eyes cast downwards to avoid the shame of looking at others. There wasn't a pair of eyes that didn’t linger on you, most likely smelling exactly what you smelled; The stench of an Alpha. So thick and cloying that you couldn’t pretend it was anything other. Maybe you could rinse it off in the creek before you got home, but you doubted it. The smell permeated through your dress and settled into your bones. Quickly, you head out of the village and towards the sound of running water. 

He was handsome, his scent so alluring that it made your mind wander as you tried desperately to rinse it off of your skin. A hint of sweat, pine and something sweet you had no name for. Sitting on your haunches, you let out a whine at the fact that nothing you did could rinse it off, and part of you didn’t want to, anyway. He’d ruined your dress by doing little more than touching it. If your parents smelled it, who knows what they would do. Probably cast you out like they’d planned on doing when you tore your dress. Any little infraction was worth your disappearance. This would give them every reason not to want you around. 

It seemed to be getting hotter. So hot in fact you were half tempted to wade into the creek, dress and all, just to get the feeling to go away. The sun had been hidden by an overcast sky, clouds threating to burst at any moment, and you prayed they would. It could drown out any scent lingering on your skin, your clothes, the far recesses of your mind that held onto it like a bloodhound. Why was it so hot?

Wordlessly, you waded into the water, thinking little of the repercussions of coming home with a sopping wet dress as you sat down, letting the stream flow over you and around your shoulders. It felt soothing at first, like a cool bath when you were sick, but all too soon the water felt just as warm as you were. It. Was enough to elicit another strangled whine from your throat.

Slowly you stood, the weight of the fabric hugging tighter against your skin all too noticeable. This wasn't right. The sun was gone, the water cool, so why did you feel so sick all of a sudden?

It took a minute to fully accept it, as part of you didn’t want to. But you couldn’t excuse the need growing in your abdomen as anything else.

You had to leave here, quick. Get as far away from the village as possible. Away from the Omegas and your family, away from everything in order to have a chance at saving yourself.

Wading out of the water, you give no pause to the way your skirts cast dark droplets onto the dry ground. 

 With little to no hesitation, you make your way back onto the road before veering right, into the underbrush as you picked up the pace. Before, you'd have a day’s head start to get as far away as possible, but this was different. The telltale signs of your heat stirring low in the pit of your belly was a fortnight too early. Your thoughts were already starting to fog around the edges, an in a few hours all you'd be able to do was cry out from the sheer pain of it all.

 With every step you find yourself walking faster, legs getting whipped by the low lying brambles. The way they so easily tear into your skin going almost unnoticed by you in your sheer panic. It wasn't supposed to be this way, it’s a type of confusion that adds on to the delirium already buffing away at your subconscious. 

After a few minutes of running, only your panicked gasps keeping you company, the clouds burst above you. Fat drops soaking the underbrush and you along with it. In no time the ground beneath your feet becomes even more treacherous, mud and leaves and errant roots making you stumble and fall at every opportunity. After one nasty fall, you can't help but sit for a moment, a manic chuckle ripping through your chest as you examine your skinned palms. Your dress is filthy, the tear even larger than it had been when you set out this morning. Absently you wonder if mother will let you try to mend it before she casts you out for it. Without looking down at your legs, you already know the bruises that will be there from every bump and fall you’ve taken on your little journey. It does little to worry you, once the adrenaline wore off, maybe then you'd feel yourself start to care again.

With a sigh you let yourself rest. Hypervigilance slipping as you gaze up at the canopy in awe. How could rain be so loud? 

Mentally, you try to assess your location. There was a place not far from here that served as your hideaway in times like these. A fissure in the face of a sheer cliff, only big enough for you and any other Omega that had the misfortune of being cast out into the woods. It wasn't much, the crack was uncovered, the rain and wet still able to reach you, but that wasn’t what was important. 

Standing up gives you a better view of your surroundings. With little thought you start to head in the direction you remembered, down the slope of the hill in hopes of finding your salvation at the bottom. 

It doesn’t take long before you hear it. Crackling branches under heavy, heavy footsteps. It’s not a promising sign, to say the very least. Feverishly you pick up the pace, mind racing as you try to figure out who would’ve followed you. It’s not like you did much to hide where you were going, in truth you didn’t think about it at all. Mind glazing over, you don’t notice the thick tree root that’s in your way, stumbling over it as your palms meet the forest floor once again. Ungracefully, your body tumbles easily down the rest of the slope, a cry leaving you as you hit the ground repeatedly. 

Uvo’s laugh is audible over the thunderous sound of rain. Its jarring. A wretched reminder that you're actively being hunted down like an animal.

“Sounds like I’m getting close, huh?” he yells, still too far away for you to see him under the darkened canopy. His voice echoes and you can't tell where exactly he is behind you, only knowing that its entirely too close for comfort. Hazily, your mind makes the connection, his voice rattling back in your ears over and over again as you pick yourself up. 

You can’t say that you've gotten any faster after realizing who exactly was chasing you. The ache in your body from multiple falls was finally catching up to you, along with the heat that was settling low in the pit of your stomach that seemed to be burning even brighter than a few minutes ago.

After a few minutes of running, you see it and almost sob with relief. Thick with vines, the opening of the rockface, your salvation, is almost within distance. 

“I hope you're not thinkin’ of doing what I think you're gunna do.” Its not a yell. Not anything other than an irritated statement thrown so casually and so, so close to you that it causes goosebumps to rise on the back of your neck.  Quickly, you look behind you, a slight yip leaving your throat as you take in the distance between the both of you.

In a last ditch effort, your body works on autopilot. Fear drives you, pushes you faster and faster until the only thing you can hear is the thrumming of your own heart in your ears. He’s loud behind you, yelling something unintelligible as you try to make your escape. You're within reaching distance of the opening now, but his hands grab at you. The slickness of the rain serves in your favor. Easily you slip from his grasp, body lurching forward and into the opening as he tears at the shoulder of your dress.

The air surrounding him seems to vibrate with raw anger, something akin to a roar tearing through him at just how close he’d come to having you.

Big hands come to slam against either side of the opening as he peers down at your shrunken form. Chest heaving, the rain glints off of his skin and the image alone is enough to make you whimper in submission. He’s so tall, broader than any Alpha you'd seen, and he’s incredibly angry. Uvo’s gaze doesn’t leave you as the seconds tick by.  After a few moments of him trying, and failing, to collect himself he finally speaks

“I’m not gunna hurt ya, now come here” he says, and it sounds sincere enough that your fuzzy brain almost believes him. Almost gives in to the temptation of his scent, his open arms goading you to leave the small space.

“I don’t believe you” you whine, shaking your head ‘no’ as if he wouldn’t understand the meaning of your words.

It’s so unbelievably hot. The fat drops of rain hitting your face and soaking you through to your very core did little to relieve the feeling. if anything, it overwhelmed your heightened senses, every little drop on your skin felt like something you needed to pay close attention to.

“Just wanna make you feel better” the statement alone forces a whimper out of your throat, body edging backwards as if to physically deny him

“You can't make me feel better, no one in this damn town can make me feel better.” it’s a lot more hysterical than you meant it, but Uvo’s face contorts in confusion all the same.

It’s quiet for a moment as he assesses you. Big green eyes rake over your shivering form, more anger than pity bubbling to the surface of his features as he realizes how much he doesn’t like what he sees.

“You don’t know anything, huh?” he mumbles to himself, letting one of his large hands swipe away the excess water on his face before settling on his hip “What’s it gunna take for you to come out then?”

You want to tell him to leave, to let you be alone but another part of you wants something. Something you can't explain enough to even know yourself.

“Just don’t hurt me, okay?” no matter how much you try to calm yourself down it still comes out too whiny and nasally for your liking.

Uvo laughs at that, boisterous and loud and it almost seems to overpower the sound of heavy rain hitting the tree branches around you.

“I just told you I wouldn’t, you forget that already?” you have half a mind to nod in affirmation, “Come on out then” he gestures towards you, wolfish smile marring his face.

As if to try and soothe you, he asks for your name. The question eats away at the open air before you finally find your voice enough to answer him.

In the quiet that precedes your answer you realize numbly that It’s getting darker out. You have no provisions and now you’re drenched. If you didn’t listen and stayed put, the rest of your heat would be torture. There’s a lot to consider, truthfully too much to consider in your current state. The ramifications of your actions, the honesty of the large man in front of you, the means in which he planned to help, how long you could actually survive out here without him. Your brain functions moved with the viscosity of syrup. The more you thought about it all, the less it seemed to make sense.

Quietly, you make your way to the opening, Uvo lets out an excited laugh as you crawl ever closer to him. It doesn’t take more than a few steps before a gasp is being torn from you as he grabs you by the arm, pulling you completely out and into his embrace. It feels nice, albeit a little jarring, but you won’t deny the full feeling in your chest at his proximity. A big and sturdy hand rakes up your side as the other holds you to his chest.

With little thought, you bury your face in the crook of his neck, relishing in the scent that hasn’t been completely washed away by the rain. Its calming, maybe he’s pumping out pheromones to induce that emotion within you, but at the same time it makes the coil in the pit of your stomach reach incredibly high temperatures. It hurts, oh god, it hurts

“Hurts, huh? I can fix that.” You don’t remember saying it aloud, but the burly man responds quickly by tearing the flimsy fabric of your dress, making sure to rip through your underwear as well. When you whine at the sensation all he does is mutter “Didn’t expect me to let you keep that ratty thing did you?”

It’s a makeshift blanket once he tosses it onto the ground, saving your back from most of the drenched forest floor as Uvo sets you down, his own body hovering over yours. His warmth is so nice, nothing like what’s eating you up inside, and with needy hands you run your fingers through his hair, a high pitched whine leaving your throat at the groan you coax from him.

“Fuck” he growls “M’gunna knot you so good. Bet it’ll only take one time before I get you nice and round”

You nod up at him, delirious and wanting. The only thing on your mind being the feel of him under your fingers.

With little finesse, Uvo thumbs at the opening of your sex before sliding over the bundle of nerves that lies just above it. He smiles at the confusion on your face before slowly, slowly sinking one of his large fingers inside of your heat. Your body writhes with broken sobs at the feeling. Its unlike anything you ever experienced before. 

“All this for me, huh? Must really want it.” It comes out in a huff, his smile ever growing as you nod in affirmation. You can hear the slickness he’s referring to as his finger pumps in and out of you. 

Right now the wind was bustling, rain beating down harder than it had been all night, but all that you could feel was the comfort Uvo gave you. As if his wandering hands were stroking your very soul.

Unbeknownst to you, Uvo’s already dipped another digit inside of you, marveling at the way your body so easily opens up to his touch.  It’ll only take him a few more minutes of his fingers dutifully scissoring you open before he’s able to lay his claim. 

“Doesn’t hurt, does it?” he smiles as you shake your head, mouth open and panting as your lovestruck gaze meets his “Of course it doesn’t.”

He takes his time, languid strokes and teasing bites against your chest. No rush in his movements until you brokenly sob for him. The feeling in your gut was only getting worse with every movement. With weak hands you claw at him, trying desperately to pull his body closer.

His hand moves from your cunt, popping his digits in his mouth with a groan. When he finally sucks them clean, his hands go to his belt, “Impatient little thing” whispered from his lips.

The sight alone makes your mouth water. Too long and jarringly thick, his cock slaps up against his stomach. 

“Gunna make you feel a loot better” he mumbles, taking himself in hand. God, you want it, want every bit of him no matter the repercussions. He kneels above you, chest wet and heaving with excitement as his gaze lingers on your exposed pussy. A Grecian God chiseled from marble and sent here just for you. 

With steady hands he presses you your legs up, folding you in half until hes achieved the angle he’s looking for. You have no choice but to comply, whimpering as he guides himself into your aching cunt.

The stretch of it burns, it makes your body quake almost as if the size of his cock alone has rendered you weak. It’s an overwhelming sensation that eats away any rational thought until you can only focus on the piercing sharpness of it.

“Stop, please, s’too much.” You can't recognize the sound of your own voice. Its hoarse as if you'd been yelling for hours. Uvogin buries his nose in your neck again, hands coming up to press your legs to even further against your chest.

“Here… got somethin’ to take your mind off it” 

With little warning his teeth are in your neck, tearing a wretched scream from your throat as Uvo draws blood. True to his word, he sinks the entirety of his length within you without your notice. Only thing on your mind is the feeling of your flesh being torn open by him, claimed by him. 

There’s’ little compassion in the way his hips snap against yours. Its brutal, making you cry out even more as the force of it jostles the teeth still buried snugly in your neck. Your hands claw at the ground before eventually settling on his back. Uvo groans at your nails digging into him, spurring him on to go faster, harder, to give you everything he’s got until you drain him dry.

The noise of Uvo thrusting into your warm cunt is loud, almost deafening compared to the rain around you. It’s all you can hear; All you can feel as he doesn’t waste any time in finding the exact spot within you that makes you scream.

Every shift of his hips is maddening. Every sharp thrust enough to push the air out of your lungs. Eventually Uvo’s mouth pulls away from your throat, lapping at the bloodied mess he’d left there. You can't focus on it too much. Can't focus on much of anything at the present moment, only the slick sounds of his cock dragging in and out of you filling your mind. 

“Gunna need you to do somethin’ for me, doll” his words are almost too far away for you to hear. As if he’s underwater, it takes a light slap to your face in order for you to process them.

“Huh?” you ask dumbly. You can't remember if your voice always sounded that small. That meek. 

“M’not gunna last long with the way you’re suckin’ me in like this” he growls “Gunna need you to bite down.” One of his hands that was previously holding your thigh up reaches for the nape of your neck, pulling you up until your face is flush against the side of his throat. Something is growing inside of you, burning through your very being and he’s the cause of it. It’s mind numbing, this pleasure you’ve never felt before. Lazily you recognize it enough to know that your own orgasm is mere seconds away.

“Right here.” you nod, heat searing through you as his hips stutter. There’s something catching against your cunt now, impeding every kiss of his hips against yours as he struggles to fit the rest of his cock inside.

With an audible groan being your only warning, Uvo cums inside of you. It sears against your insides as something finally stops his movements, his body unable to do anything besides grind against your own. So full, you jerk with the feeling, finally letting the coil inside you snap. The scream that leaves your broken throat is cut off by Uvo shoving your face harder against his neck and, dutifully, you bite down. Its mere instinct driving you, or maybe the need to drown out your warbled cries for him. Either way, the wound makes him laugh, his hand pushing harder against you as if to force your teeth further into his skin. The tang of metal in your mouth does little to stop the ebb and flow of your orgasm as it washes through you. It’s too good, so good in fact you find yourself pulling away only to be met with Uvo’s unshakeable grip. Tears prick at your eyes at the sensitivity of it all, the overwhelming buzz that courses through you with no end in sight.

It takes a minute of blindly thrashing against him before you give up and settle on the wet ground below.

It’s completely pitch dark now and the rain has quieted into a slight drizzle. You can't see him, can only feel as the hand not gripping your neck finally lets your other thigh down to ghost over the plains of your face. 

“You're mine now” he whispers. Silently, you nod your head in agreement, not fully understanding the meaning of his words. It didn’t matter. Nothing truly mattered anymore besides the man above you. Uvo presses a lingering kiss to your neck, your jaw, before landing on your spit slicked lips. It’s almost soothing, the gentle touches his attentive hands leave on your body. Soothing enough to make you forget how you got here. 

With a gentle tug, he finally pulls out of your sex. The laugh that leaves his throat as his fingers explore the wetness that paints your lower body is euphoric. Soon enough he’s pulling you into his arms and standing up.

“Feel better?” it sounds like more of a statement coming from his mouth, but you nod all the same. As he starts to walk your eyelids droop in exhaustion, mind focused on the way his chest vibrates with every garbled sentence you can't quite hear.

[tcm]

The Aura of Carmen Jones By Constance Cherise

Based on Georges Bizet's opera, the all-Black 20th Century-Fox musical CARMEN JONES (‘54), starring Academy Award and Golden Globe-nominated Dorothy Dandridge and EGOT Harry Belafonte, was a significant progression for its historical time-frame. Best expressed by author and film historian Donald Bogle in his book Dorothy Dandridge: A Biography, “…it represented a major step forward during the Eisenhower era.”

The Cleveland, Ohio-born Dandridge, who had been lighting the stage on fire as a chanteuse in her nightclub act prior to starring in CARMEN, was not originally considered for any role—far less the lead—by infamous director Otto Preminger. According to Bogle, Preminger (who during the course of filming would become Dandridge’s lover) viewed her as “too sweet and regal,” based off of her previous nightclub performances, where Dandridge presented as a sensual vocalist, draped in sinuous gowns that clung to her figure. In order to get the role, Dandridge stripped her “polished” persona, modified her makeup and fashion revealing an alter ego to Preminger. He took one look at her and declared “My God. It’s Carmen!”

Often compared to Lena Horne, the exquisitely beautiful Dandridge was trained as an artist alongside her sister from childhood. The Dandridge Sisters evolved from church gatherings to the acclaimed Cotton Club, where Dandridge met her future husband Harold Nicholas of the famed Nicholas Brothers. Soft spoken, stunning and a quick study, Dandridge collaborated with arranger/composer Phil Moore, devising a smoldering nightclub act that was eagerly received in all-white venues. Her crossover appeal lent well to Hollywood. When talk of a CARMEN JONES production spread, Black Hollywood clamored. CARMEN JONES would be the first all-Black musical since MGM’s CABIN IN THE SKY (‘43), as well as the first Black film shot in Technicolor. Stars the likes of Harry Belafonte, Diahann Carroll and Pearl Bailey would solidify roles.

The lyrics of Carmen’s first song of the film, “Dats Love,” is an announcement of her essence.

“You go for me and I'm taboo

But if you're hard to get I go for you

And if I do then you are through, boy

My baby that's the end of you”

From the moment Carmen sashays into the cafeteria, casually holding a red rose (a present from one of her hopefuls no doubt), we know she is unique based solely on her black ruffle trimmed, low-cut blouse and fitted red skirt: A subliminal combination of colors associated with the image of a stereotypical devil.

She is decisive of her prey. She admires Joe (Harry Belafonte) unabashedly sizing him up as an alpha. Her mind is made up. She is going to get exactly what she wants, and who could blame her? Joe with his honey-toned skin and chiseled features is beautiful, and the fact that he is unresponsive intrigues her senses all the more. Her playful banter with a frustrated Joe while traveling in the Jeep is only a precursor. Carmen is content with turning up the heat in increments, because in her mind there is no doubt, she is already the victor. As Joe continually shoves her away, she answers: "The harder I get bumped the more of me bounces." She’s surprising, simultaneously amusing and unapologetic.

Instead of relenting in fear when Joe grabs her in a fit of jealousy, Carmen ferociously fights to be released from his clutches punctuating her need for freedom. She is not acting out as a means of manipulation, although clearly, she knows how to manipulate. This particular response is created out of authentic self-preservation and she possesses the audaciousness to be a woman who is the master of her own soul, regardless of her lover's emotion. Of course, naturally, Joe becomes obsessively caught in Carmen’s beguiling web, where his passion is so overwhelming it results in murder. But, Carmen's outright refusal to be possessed within itself is her power and depending on perspective, may also be her pitfall.

Although she was a vocalist, like much of the cast, Dandridge was not able to meet the demands of the film's operatic hue. Dandridge took great strains to make the dubbed vocals of Marilyn Horne as seamless as possible, mimicking Horne’s breath work.

The NAACP was originally opposed to an all-Black cast as the organization rallied for integration. The controversy of CARMEN JONES truly lay in the lead’s overt sexuality. Carmen obeys her primitive nature, wafting where her emotions lead, and as a result the script was gone over with a fine-tooth comb prior to filming for review by the Hays Office. Dandridge was the first Black woman to appear on the cover of Life magazine, and by the time the film was in production she was viewed by black and white audiences alike (albeit taboo for a white audience) as a bonafied sex symbol. Still, Dandridge faced inevitable racial truths. When once threatening to swim at the all-white hotel which she headlined, suddenly the pool required draining.

Dandridge's performance in CARMEN JONES garnered a Best Actress Oscar nomination, the first for a Black individual. Despite her loss to Grace Kelly, the community saw her nomination alone as a hard earned and long-suffering triumph. After her achievement for CARMEN JONES, demand for her performances grew. Dandridge was booked in illustrious venues including the Empire Room in New York’s Waldorf Astoria Hotel; however, her movie career began to flail on Preminger’s advice to turn down multiple roles offered to her that he perceived as below her Oscar nominee stance. It would be a three-year stint until she would once again return to film, garnering a Golden Globe nomination for PORGY AND BESS (‘59). Over the course of her life, Dandridge would turn to alcohol and prescription medications to fill the void of her failed sometimes abusive relationships and intimate struggles. Her life came to a tragic end at the age of 42 as a result of an overdose.

There was an extraordinary capacity within Dandridge, of which CARMEN JONES only allowed us a glimpse. It is true, Dandridge’s beauty and sex appeal opened doors enjoyed by Black artists to date. It is also true that the racial constraints of the day measurably blocked Dandridge as well as other minority performers of the era. But when I look at Dandridge, I see a woman who despite her pristine beauty, her elegant poise her sexual appeal, or throngs of fans that loved her, much like many of other enviable starlets we can easily name, simply did not love herself enough, and that, is the most unfortunate tragedy of all.

[secret-engima]

So in your Naruto FF cover where Noct/Yoru is believed to be a god, what are the reactions of the families of the Chocobros? Cause their Clan member just got poached but they've also been really strange ever since their near death experience that woke up their memories (or did they always remember)? Especially the Hyuuga because they basically had Hikaru/Ignis enslaved and branded. Or even some povs from the Chocobros. (Poor Prompto, being an Aburame lol)

Ooooo tricky. Kinda depends on the family?

Lemme see- Ignis’s family are Most Displeased. They are super possessive of their eyeballs and treat their branch members as slaves anyway so they see it more like theft than a powerful man claiming a friend. Of course, there’s not much they can DO about it considering it’s Yoru and he burns Ignis’s seal off in .05 seconds and also threatens to burn the rest of the main branch to the ground if they touch Ignis again (not in so many words, but his magic does flatten a few of the members with its intensity when they got too close to Ignis.

Tbh that’s probably a blood grudge the Hyuga hold until Naruto’s time even though they stay in Konoha and Ignis is known among the hyuga not only as the blind member but the Stolen Hyuga. A warning to all hyuga of what will happen if they are not careful with their eyes and other such nonsense that only works because younger Hyuga don’t interact with Yoru enough to know that he’s a really chill dude and Ignis is happy where he is.

The Inuzuka are not too thrilled at first, but more laidback about it? Gladio still visits and they can tell that he’s Super Happy about being reunited with Yoru, and Yoru is polite and respectful to them and their dogs like him and you can never go wrong with the opinion of dogs in an Inuzuka’s eyes.

The Aburame ... are honestly the most chill about this? They aren’t too thrilled at first, but Yoru already has a Hyuga and an Inuzuka by then, so there is a precedent, and after a bit of watching it’s clear that these four are basically a Hive unto themselves and Prompto is happy to be there, is healthy and well cared for so they just kinda- shrug and move on. Maybe use the fact that one of their own is “Favored by Yoru” to their advantage during tricky Council meetings generations later.

The oddness and memories thing were long commented on, but ... mostly unnoticed in Hikaru’s case? Among the Branch Clan it was noted, but no one said anything or really thought about it because honestly I doubt the Hyuga have never had an Incident where Branch Members get a bit ... weird post Sealing and post a traumatic experience. That’s a chakra doohickey tattooed to your SKULL, side-effects are not impossible. The Inuzuka noticed it too, but Gladio was still ... himself, just a big more jaded and mature so they let it slide.

The Aburame maybe spent a good few years trying to figure out what the freak happened with Prompto though. Because they’ve never had a bug-a-phobic member before and it’s weird. They love him tho. He’s their disaster child.

Tbh in the Warring States Era nobody was really focused on mental health. If you were loyal to the Clan and could fight that was all that really mattered, weirdo personality changes aside.

Uhhh POVs but only short snips, and pls forgive any inconsistencies with previously establish AU lore my brain is tired and I may not keep all the details 100% straight. Just roll with it.:

Ignis:

After a lifetime of being blind, being able to SEE everything, all around, at any given time is unnerving. This entire era is unnerving and Hikaru has bitten his tongue more than once to keep from railing against it. Against sending CHILDREN, some not much older than toddlers out into the field, against the brand on his head and the heads of so many others that burns on the whim of a Main Branch member.

He keeps his head down, but inside ... he hates. More than a little bit. He is a fractured piece of glass and he knows too much pressure with make him snap, so he does his utmost to avoid those situations (because if he snaps children will get hurt even more than now and nothing will change in the Clan).

Then one day they go to meet Hashirama and Madara, to speak of peace, and of course Hikaru has heard of Yoru, the mysterious forest spirit that supposedly watches over the new village and ensures no fighting happens, but he does not actually think this Yoru will be all that impressive.

He never expects it to be NOCTIS. Noctis, who looks at him with hope and wonder in his eyes, who looks so very unchanged despite lifetimes, who rises and calls him brother and Ignis and friend and CLAIMS him in a way the Clan Head cannot dispute. No one can dispute against Noctis, because he is still a Lucis Caelum and a king and to him, their chakra is pebbles in an ocean.

And for the first time in a long time, Ignis is happy. Ignis has hope.

...

Gladio

Gladiolus loves his new family, and he knows they love him back. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t miss his old life like a wound in his side. Iris’s presence makes it a bit better but also not, because war is cruel and no one cares that she is still so young (older than the other Clans children sent to the field, because Inuzuka treasure their puppies, but still far too YOUNG to the mind of a Shield and Crownsguard). He loves his canine partner and the Pack, he loves that they don’t really question his memories, how his personality has matured and changed since the incident that woke him up.

Even so...

Even so, the absence of his brothers is a bleeding wound in his heart, and when the Clan Head looks at him, Gladio knows the man can see that in his heart of hearts, Gladio is not part of their Pack. He is family, but he has another Pack, another Alpha he swore to a lifetime ago, and that loyalty still howls in his soul far stronger than even the ties of blood and Pack and love that binds him to the Inuzuka.

So perhaps that is why the Clan Head does not look as outraged or surprised as he could have been when Yoru finds him, when NOCTIS looks back at Gladio from an eerily familiar yet not face. That is why, while the Hyuga sputter in shock when Gladio hugs Ignis tight and spins him in a circle for joy, the Inuzuka just watch with comprehension dawning in their eyes. Gladio looks to his Clan Head and says he’s going with Yoru and there is not request for permission. Just a courtesy of announcement. Because THIS- this is his Pack, his Alpha, his Beta, his brothers and littermates. He will follow them above all.

And the Clan Head lets him go.

...

Prompto:

Prompto wants to know who he ticked off in his past life that had a say in the next, because he HAD to have ticked off someone. Why else would he have been reborn into a clan of LIVING HIVE PEOPLE???????

He thinks he distresses them- no, he knows he does, when he flinches from the clan techniques and hives, from the little insects and their pheromones that the Clan uses as essentially an insectoid, chakra-based texting system amongst themselves. He knows he stresses out his hive for a long time, flinching from the feel of them inside him, from the skitter of their legs and wings and the whisper of their tiny, simple little thoughts in his own when they talk to him.

It .... it’s bad for a while. A WHILE. Bad enough the Clan won’t let him fight (which is fine with him) but also bad enough he loses weight and can’t sleep from the hive buzzing buzzing buzzing under his skin from his distress toward them.

It’s his great great grandma that saves him, quite literally, because an Aburame that rejects the hive is an Aburame who dies, not by any malicious intent on the Clans’ part but just- biologically. Just like starving to death will kill him, rejecting his Hive will kill him too and he KNOWS that but he can’t just- turn off his fear.

Then one day Elder Maya, the oldest living Aburame, sends for him. He comes to her private house with shivering skin and jumping senses and the hyper-awareness of the things inside him buzzing buzzing buzzing trying to remove the source of his distress and making it worse because they WERE his distress-.

Elder Maya takes his shaking hands and leads him to her garden.

It’s- it’s beautiful. It’s so beautiful he could cry for his long lost camera of another life. There are colors everywhere, blues and greens, reds, pinks, whites, and mixed splashes of yellow and purple- flowers that stand tall, flowers that droop, flowers dangling from the vines growing up tree trunks.

And everywhere there were flowers, there were butterflies. Butterflies and ladybugs, the two insects he wasn’t completely creeped out by because they were so pretty and photogenic, and for a moment Prompto is so awed his shaking stops, the Hive inside him goes quiet. A butterfly flaps lazily over to him, a glorious thing with vivid blue wings the color of magic and black dots and swirls that remind him of fire. It settles on his hand and he doesn’t flinch from it like he does the kikachu of the clan, just stays quiet and watches it with a bit of awe.

“You are not scared of these ones,” Elder Maya hums.

“U-um ... no,” he whispers as he watches it, “they’re ... pretty. Cute. They don’t ... they don’t look like they’ll hurt me.” And that’s not really his issue with the Kikaichu, but he can’t explain a phobia to ninja, not well anyway.

“Good,” says his great great grandmother, but not with her lips, with the soft splash of impression-scent-sensation from the butterfly on his hand and he gapes as he realizes THIS is her hive. These ladybugs and butterflies are Elder Maya’s hive. He stares at her and she adjusts the dark glasses she wears, “I will give you some of mine. Why? So you can cultivate a new Hive that you will not be afraid of.”

And she does. And it’s CREEPY, but also ... kinda not? It’s ... it still freaks him out to have bugs under his skin, but these ones ... he knows these ones. He chose them, he hatched them, he raised them. They are beautiful and deadly and soft looking and can strip flesh from a target in seconds and he wishes he had a camera because it would be so cool to have butterflies that can pose on command.

It’s a rocky road, but his shaking stops, and his weight goes back to normal, and his sleep schedule returns, and all the Clan breathes a sigh of relief when they see Prompto ambling around, not flinching from the glittery blue butterflies flitting on his shoulders.

And it’s not like his old life, his brothers he misses so badly, but its kinda nice to never be alone. Wherever he goes, his Hive goes, and his new Queens are kinda ... bossy almost and its endearing in a creepy kinda way. The only thing that would make life better, make it perfect (other than to not need a Hive in the first place) would be to have his brothers again.

And then they go to the new village of Konoha, and he meets the famed and terrifying Yoru, who isn’t terrifying at all, but is instead old and tired and blue eyed, and a fish lover and when he smiles, crooked and shy at Prompto all his Hive SINGS under his skin because he KNOWS.

And suddenly the world is perfect again.

[clocksfanfiction]

Hello hello! I hope that everything is going well with you! I just have a quick question: the regency era, ukus a/b/o snippets that you wrote... you wouldn't happen to have more of those aside from the two, right? Not to be dramatic or anything but I would literally sell my soul to you for a whole story or at the very least a few more snippets from that story. If not, I totally understand! I just want you to know that you're writing is beautiful

Hello hello indeed. 

Just for you anon, I do in fact have another I never finished. I’m giving fair warning here; it does not end in a satisfying way, it stops abruptly because I never finished it and I have no intentions of continuing to write it. I might one day come back to writing, but my time and energy these days just isn’t made for it. 

I never had a clear plot for this au, I just enjoy writing in that stupid flowery way and I love repressed idiot Arthur who has no idea how to handle his emotions and attraction to Alfred who is far too bold for his own good and doesn’t actually know how to handle his emotions any better. Eventually I imagine either Arthur confesses very badly to an annoyed and oblivious Alfred, or even worse he just proposes in the least romantic way possible. Give it a whole year of stolen eye contact and blushing and one or two scandalous brushes of fingers first. I never got to any of those points though.

I will, however, give you what I have written just because you asked so nicely and I hope you can enjoy it for what it is (with a grain of salt for the way it cuts off).

“My word!”

Alfred looked up from his book, eyes drawn towards the door where his father’s muffled voice had carried over the sound of the rain. It had been dreary all day and though Alfred had quite the mind that morning to get up and go and call on Miss Vogel, his mother had refused to let him leave out of fear from the rain. Alfred didn’t like the rain, but he wasn’t afraid of a little bit of it, but now glancing out into the growing storm he couldn’t help being quite glad his mother hadn’t allowed him to go.

The windows rattled with the force of the wind, prompting Alfred up out of his chair to shut the curtain in the hopes it would keep out some of the draft. However, glancing out of the window, he paused. Far below, through the blurry film of water upon the windowpane, Alfred caught sight of a shadowy figure approaching their doorstep.

Alfred frowned. They could have no visitor at this hour, and certainly not in such weather, but the sound of his father’s voice carrying up the stairs once again drew his attention back. Whoever it was was certainly unexpected, perhaps it was simply a messenger.

He shut the curtains, stopping briefly to retrieve his book before he wandered out onto the landing, curious to see if he could catch sight of the messenger before they left and pester his father for the contents of the message.

But as he crept down the stairs, he found no messenger standing in the doorway, but a very sodden looking Mr Arthur Kirkland trying to ward off the towels passed to him.

“Mr Jones this is very kind of you but I was only stopping-”

“Nonsense Mr Kirkland, it’s storming out there and I cannot have you heading further out into it. You will undoubtedly catch a chill and my wife will never forgive me for the loss of such a fine young man.”

“I do appreciate your concern but I am expected at my mother’s house-”

“Then I will send a message as soon as the rain clears ahead of you to apologise for holding you back. I would rather be reprimanded for making you late than be responsible for your illness, sir.”

Mr Kirkland once again opened his mouth to protest, but the words caught in his throat as Alfred took another step down and the wood creaked conspicuously beneath his foot. Both alphas turned in his direction, and Mr Kirkland’s expression flickered oddly, his mouth snapping shut against whatever protest he had previously been about to make.

“Sorry sir, should I have stayed upstairs?” Alfred turned slightly as if to retreat, though he had no interest in returning to his room when Mr Kirkland was stood dripping rainwater on their floor.

“Not at all Alfred,” His father smiled, though the expression was wry. “you would in fact be doing me much a service if you could convince Mr Kirkland not to run out into the rain again.”

Alfred turned his gaze to the alpha in question, though the moment their eyes met Mr Kirkland looked sharply away. Alfred was undeterred -- he’d grown used to the odd, stiff mannerisms of Mr Kirkland from the meetings they had so far enjoyed. At least, Alfred had enjoyed. He found Mr Kirkland more than a little intriguing.

Not to mention he could not help but find the way the rainwater dripped down his tensed jaw rather unbearably dashing.

“Well we cannot have that. You should allow us the pleasure of your company at dinner, Mr Kirkland, at least to excuse the puddle you are forming on our hallway floor.”

Mr Kirkland looked down self-consciously and had his cheeks and nose not already been flushed rosy with cold, Alfred was sure the alpha’s expression would have coloured with embarrassment.

“I, excuse me, I do apologise.”

Whatever easy eloquence with which he had been addressing Alfred’s father before seemed to have vanished; that caught and affected tone that so irritated and amused Alfred at once returning to his voice.

“There is nothing to apologise for, Mr Kirkland.” Mr Jones began again, grinning as a servant handed him another towel. “Though you should heed my son’s words and allow us the pleasure of your company.”

Mr Kirkland’s gaze lifted to Mr Jones, and for just a moment flickered to Alfred. He hesitated, once again some other comment on his lips that seemed to die as he turned from Alfred.

“It would be a pleasure to join you for dinner. But I do apologise for being such a terrible burden on your household.”

“Not at all, not at all Mr Kirkland.” Alfred watched as his father slung the towel around Mr Kirkland’s shoulders, pushing him gently towards the stairs which Alfred was quick to descend. “I’m sure my elder son’s clothes will be a fit for you, we must have you out of these sodden things at once or you will catch cold. Mary! Mary, show Mr Kirkland to our guest rooms…”

Alfred watched his father guide the servant about, looking up just in time to catch Mr Kirkland’s shy gaze upon him. Mr Kirkland was a strange alpha: though he exuded a kind of quiet confidence and pride among his peers, he became cold when made to socialise with any he didn’t already seem familiar with, and while he seemed to close in and shy away from all but a few of Alfred’s own looks, this was the third time Alfred had caught his gaze upon him. Another omega might well have been flattered, but the strange perceptive aura of Mr Kirkland’s handsome green eyes rather made Alfred feel that he was being picked apart for his flaws and not admired. Yet the man had asked him thrice to dance at the only two balls he had attended and blushed each time he’d had to take Alfred’s hand.

He was an odd enigma of an alpha, and Alfred took great pleasure in seeing the red upon his cheeks when he smiled at him as he passed up the stairs.

--

As it happened, Matthew’s clothes were the best fit in the house for Mr Kirkland. But Matthew was a slight taller than the other alpha, and broader too, which made the alpha appear slightly smaller than he really was. Alfred couldn’t help finding it just a little endearing, though he made sure to keep any sign of his thoughts out of his expression when Mr Kirkland joined them in the front room.

His hair was towel-dry, which only made the flyway strands sit lower than usual and his fringe fall into his eyes. He kept pushing it back in the most inconspicuous manner he could manage, though watching the hair fall into his eyes Alfred couldn’t quite ignore the desire to reach over and brush it aside for him. He didn’t of course, such an action was far too familiar and utterly improper -- but the thought of Mr Kirkland’s possible reaction did entertain Alfred.

Mr Kirkland was easily startled, oddly enough. Though Alfred had seen him unphased greeting an alpha who had clearly snuck up on him, he had once near jumped out of his skin when Alfred’s shoulder had accidentally brushed his in stepping too close.

He could only imagine that Mr Kirkland’s cheeks would colour delightfully if he were to brush his fringe from his eyes.

“You said you were heading to your father’s house, Mr Kirkland?”

Dinner had been served shortly after Mr Kirkland had dried and changed, which had been followed by an odd series of events wherein Matthew had made as subtle movement as he could to walk into the dining room immediately after Alfred. He couldn’t explain why, but they had ended up with an arrangement that left Mr Kirkland sitting opposite himself. If he were less rational he might have imagined that his family had engineered their seating for it.

“Yes sir. I prefer to ride from London, there isn’t much opportunity to get the horses out in the same way in town.”

[moodymodaozushi]

MDZS Fanfic Recs! #4

March 2020

Joy In the Midst of These Things Series by Glitterbombshell [Ongoing]

“Wei Wuxian,” the man grits out, and he pauses with one hand reaching for the door handle. The disciple who had come in to speak to Lan Qiren brushes past him and exits the pavilion without a backwards glance. Wei Wuxian turns back to Master Lan, one eyebrow tilting up in question. “An urgent matter has come up,” Lan Qiren says, every word sounding like it’s being forcibly dragged from him. “His Excellency requests my presence. Their current instructor is ill, I was meant to take over classes for today,” he continues, gesturing towards the tiny juniors. He swallows heavily, and the next sentence sounds bitter. Choked. “I cannot leave them unattended.”

Wei Wuxian just blinks at him.

Or

Wei Wuxian is asked (under duress) to babysit a class of tiny Lan cultivators for just a few minutes. A few minutes turns into an hour, turns into two hours, turns into an impromptu literal field trip and now there's an entire class that is weeks ahead of their curriculum, their most junior disciples have apparently imprinted on Wei Wuxian like baby birds, and Lan Qiren has no one to blame but himself.

BABY LANS! I REPEAT THERE ARE BABY LANS ON THE LOOSE! Wei Wuxian adopts a class of Lan kindergartners who then proceed to follow him around like ducklings. What havoc shall they wreak before they can be contained? Read to find out!

The Yiling Wei Sect Series by scifigeek14 [Ongoing]

It is AYuan who asks Lan Wangji to stay, but it is for Wei Ying that he does.

An au starting with Lan Wangji's visit to Yiling and the Burial Mounds when Wen Ning woke up in episode 29.

Cuteness, some minor sect politics, pining, what else would you need on a sunny Saturday afternoon? This series just keeps getting better as it continues and I’m always looking forward to the next installment!

Grandmaster of Meme-onic Cultivation by Hades_the_Blingking [Ongoing]

The Untamed universe is exactly the same, except everybody has magical crystals that have a suspiciously familiar messaging system. The story is pretty much the same as the show, except everyone lives!! (so minor changes). or in which Wei WuXian tries his darndest to date Lan Zhan, Jiang Cheng possibly has a aneurysm, Jin ZiXuan is still the most awkward human alive, and Xue Yang makes me write some VERY cursed things.

This is just pure fuckin crack, no two ways about it. If you enjoy chatfics, but want it to be set in the canon MDZS era, then you’re in for a treat, because this fic has the monopoly! I heave up a lung every time a new chapter comes out, god it’s hilarious. 

Oh, My Bleeding Heart by Starlight1395 [Ongoing]

Wei Ying doesn't understand why he can't breathe properly. Ever since he woke up, there's been a current of panic and fear under his skin, no matter how safe he knew he was. When he's cornered by Fairy and a furious Jiang Cheng, he can't hold back his fear. He doesn't understand these sudden attacks of unexplained panic matched with memories that aren't quite his, but he does realize that pain makes the panic leave.

Will those who hate him be able to set aside their past and save him before it's too late- again?

This fic breaks my heart every time I read it and I just keep coming back for more. Focuses a lot on Mo Xuanyu’s past trauma and I have to warn for some serious non-con triggers for those of you who are worried about that. I love, but proceed with caution!

Those Snow-White Collarbones by JustADreamForUs [Ongoing]

Omegas are gentle, sweet and vulnerable.

Alphas on the other hand, are rough, savage and strong.

One is the hunter, the other is the prey. That is how it has always been for centuries.

So why is it that Jiangcheng feels like his iron-clad hold over his instincts are slipping in the presence of soft words and beautiful golden eyes? Why is it that with every step towards the fragile omega that is Lan Jingyi, does the strength Jiangcheng is infamous for fade into nothingness?

And most importantly, why does he feel like he's the one being hunted, even when he's towering over that tiny quivering frame?

If you don’t like ABO, Chengyi or extreme public horniness then please turn around because this is nowhere near your ballpark. For those of you who enjoy, indulge, and secretly peruse then you’ve come to the right place! This has all the public indecency and horniness of any MDZS fic that contains Wei Wuxian, although in these circumstances he is rather tame. This one is for all the Chengyi lovers out there, join me in rarepair hell!

[fortune-fool02]

Be Prepared

Dio Brando x female reader

Requested by: anonymous

Song: Be Prepared from The Lion King (One of the best Disney villain songs for Dio, change my mind) 

For this to be more fitting, Kakyoin and Polnareff are under Dio’s influence for this. Also, I kinda struggled a little with this so sorry for that. 

Please enjoy.

Shouting echoed around the throne room as Dio’s followers, Polnareff and Kakyoin, threw blame around for who’s fault it was that they failed to kill the Joestars in their recent mission. [Name] stood there, watching this petty argument with a sigh. Sometimes she wondered why Dio had these two as followers, but she didn’t question Dio’s word. 

“But he somehow deflected the Emerald Splash!” Kakyoin said, trying to justify his side of the argument. 

“You said no one can deflect the Emerald Splash!”  Polnareff responded, [Name] ran a hand through her [Hair colour] locks.

“I’m surrounded by idiots.” she muttered to herself. With a huff, her Stand manifested beside her, grabbing the two males by their shirts and turning them to her. “Shut it, both of you!” They fell silent at her. She dropped them, letting her Stand vanish. 

“I couldn’t have said it better myself.” A velvet voice rung through the air, catching the trio’s attention. Turning to the once empty throne, their Lord sat upon the throne. When did Dio get there? How long has he been there? 

“Well, due to your failure to kill the Joestars, I have decided to alter the plan somewhat.” Lord Dio spoke, his voice carrying around the room with the air, as if they were both one in the same. 

Slowly, he rose from his throne, a smirk tugging his lips.

“I know that your powers of retention, Are as wet as a warthog's backside. But thick as you are, pay attention! My words are a matter of pride.” 

Dio made his way down the steps, circling his three servants who stood like statues, each one hanging onto his words as he spoke. The Alpha addressing the lower ranking Betas of his pack. His black clawed hand waved gently in front of Polnareff’s face, noticing the flickering fear across his eyes.  

“It's clear from your vacant expressions, The lights are not all on upstairs. But we're talking kings and successions, Even you can't be caught unawares.”    

Those words latched onto [Name] and Kakyoin’s attention, making them break their stone postures to look at their Lord in confusion. Kings? Successions? When was this apart of the plan? [Name]’s gaze locked with Lord Dio’s for a moment, his eyes sharper than the claws on his hands. There was a cunning glint in them. 

“So prepare for a chance of a lifetime, Be prepared for sensational news. A shining new era, Is tiptoeing nearer.”

[Name] rose her hand slightly, a student seeming to ready to question the teacher about something. 

“And where do we feature?” Lord Dio snapped to the [Hair colour] female, his form towering over hers easily. His gently cupped her face with the same gentleness one would hold a delicate flower, almost afraid to damage its beauty. Out of the three of them, it was clear that [Name] was the favourite.  

“Just listen to teacher, I know it sounds sordid. But you'll be rewarded. When at last I am given my dues.”

Lord Dio released his hold on her, turning back and walking up to his throne. Shadows trailing after him as if they clung to him for life, for without him, they were nothing. Once back at his throne, Lord Dio turned towards Polnareff, Kakyoin and [Name], his lips twisted into a malicious smirk that would strike fear even into the bravest of servants.

“And injustice deliciously squared, Be prepared!” 

His voice carried a force that pushed the trio back slightly, almost falling to their knees before their Lord. [Name] looked up at Lord Dio. How could they accomplish such a task if they have already failed? Kakyoin and Polnareff were sent out to kill the Joestars and returned nursing their own wounds. What chance did [Name] stand? 

“Don’t look like that, [Name].” Dio spoke, pulling her from her thoughts. His crimson red eyes gazed into her [Eye colour] orbs. “You have the most important job of all, my dear.” he approached her. His nails brushed against her skin as he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. 

“You will be the innocent flower you appear to be,” he said, his words soothing, almost caring. “You will befriend them, learn every little secret you can about them and their Stands, for you possess something Kakyoin and Polnareff do not.” The two males listened closely at this, both equally curious as [Name] to know what it was. Dio’s lips brushed against her ear, 

“You, my dear, are innocent.” he whispered, “You hold this look that makes suspicion slid off of you. No one will suspect a sweet, innocent little flower like you to be masking such a venomous serpent.” He pressed a delicate kiss against her temple.  

[chysgoda]

The Violence of Light

Prompt 19: Radiant

FFXIV Write 2019

Word Count: 1487

Rating: R (graphic violence and imagery) 

AU: The Last Dragoon, An Eighth Unbral Era story

Blade with whom I have lived, Blade with whom I now die, 

Serve right and justice one last time, Seek one last heart of evil, 

Still one last life of pain. Cut well, old friend, 

And then farewell.

— Sir Orrin Neville Smythe, Flight of Dragons 

“All Dragoon units report to forward post alpha! Garlean airships are incoming. Repeat all dragoon units report to forward post alpha!”

The orders coming over the linkshell crackled with static as they were shouted. Bel swallowed the half roll she’d had in her mouth with chewing and then slammed back the water in her mug to keep the bread from sticking in her throat. She grabbed her helm and lance from where the rested next to her in the mess tent and ran. Her Drachenmail was still bare metal, there had not been time to paint it before she and Bianca had been called to the front. Her sister in arms joined her as Bel approached the edge of the Alliance’s base camp. They pulled on their helms and jumped. 

Art’imis grimaced at the taste of the potion after she slammed it back. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a mass of Dragoons that were attacking the Garlean air force pushing towards the one ship that all others guarded. Silently she sent a prayer to Hydaelyn that her daughter at least would survive this night. There was no more time to do more than that, the wind had never been her element. 

Art’imis glanced behind at the lovers, friends, and allies that lay dead. Her soul raged and wept at the sight. She turned to look at Melisande, the only other survivor of their push deep into Garlean lines. They both looked at Elidibus who wore Zenos Yae Galvus’ body which had been adorned with the regalia of the Emperor of Garlemald. She dropped her shield and pressed her hand to her sternum, a moment of concentration and she held her crystal of light in her hand. When she saw a matching blue-white light in her wife’s hand she laughed. The sound was wild and hysterical, it spoke of a woman with nothing left to lose. This was the last option if the battle didn’t kill them the sudden surge of Aether would leave them burned out. 

“We might not be able to take Elidibus down with us.” the dragoon crushed her crystal in her armored fist. The light sank into her hand and Art’imis could see it glowing in the veins of her neck. “But we can drag the Emperor of Garlemald to hell.”

Art’imis crushed her own crystal and hissed as the aether burned up her veins. She blinked and the whites of her eyes glowed around her gold and silver irises. “I’ll be the snarly wolf, you be the bitey wolf, and make sure you bite his head off.” 

She reached down and took up Raubahn’s sword rather than her shield and nodded at her love. Art’imis adjusted her grip on her war hammer in her left hand. The warriors shared a last manic, feral smile and charged the Ascian. 

~~~

Bel followed the First Lance through the belly of the Garlean airship. Black Rose was here, nothing else mattered except ensuring that it was not released. 

So they ran. 

They ran and they killed any that stood in their way. 

They ran until reached the munitions bay. 

Bel’s echo screamed and she pulled Bianca against the wall. A bullet exploded through the First Lance’s head and continued through where Bianca had been standing. Bel screamed in rage and fear when the older dragoon dropped. Beyond him, a Garlean soldier holding a gun stood next to a control panel. 

“For the Glory of Garlemald!” The soldier shouted. Bel launched herself forward. Her lance found his heart the moment after he executed the command to open the bay doors. The canisters being dropped began to spew an oily black gas even before the bay doors finished opening. 

Bel felt dizzy before she realized she’d breathed in the gas. She staggered as she pulled her lance free. She reached up and gripped the blade until it cut through the leather palm of her gauntlet and into her flash. The electric feeling of pain focused her mind enough that she was able to turn to Bianca. Her sister held her own crystal of light in her hands and stumbled closer. Sluggish Bel tried to form words but before she could Bianca stabbed the crystal into her chest. Bel gasped when the air was forced from her lungs and Aether burned through her. 

“Live,” Bianca slurred as she collapsed. 

~~

Art’imis gripped the hilt of the katana buried in her gut and pulled Elidibus closer to her. The raw aether of her light crystal has numbed her nerves so she did not grimace in pain as the blade sliced through her back. She spit in his eye, the saliva mixed with blood.

Blue dragon fire burst from the emperor’s chest when Melisande’s spear found his heart. The body of Zenos collapsed forward as a cloud of black lifted from the back. Melisande grabbed Art’imis and pulled her away from the collapsing body. The AuRa had all but passed into the lifestream. The blue-white glow had faded from her eyes leaving the whites yellowed and bloodshot. They looked up as Elidibus coalesced on the far side of Zenos’ body. 

The Ascian smiled at the pair and motioned behind them. “It was not enough Heroes.” 

Melisande turned and her eyes went wide as a black fog rolled over them. 

~~

Feel

Bel coughed and rolled to her side so that she would not choke as she vomited. Everything ached from her skin and joints to the marrow of her bones and the center of her soul. 

Hear

It was several minutes before Bel was able to extend her senses beyond the astringent stench of her own vomit. She forced herself to sit up. The airship must have crashed because what she was laying on had once been a wall. Around her was a silence so deafening that it felt like a physical pressure. 

Think

There was not a single trace of living Aether around her. She climbed to unsteady feet and looked around. The bodies of Bianca, Brucemont the Forst Lance, and the soldier she had killed had all begun to contort. How long had she been unconscious? 

My last, beloved daughter, you must not waste your sister’s gift.

Even if the words were whispered directly to her soul, her head was too fogged to make sense of them. She stumbled and staggered as she went to her sister and commanding officer and collected their soul stones. She would have to get to camp and get help to bring their bodies back. For now, the soul stones and her lance were all she could carry. The munition bay doors were still open and she worked her way out of the crashed airship. 

Do not tarry here my child. There is nothing left and you must away. 

There was no sound other than her own heartbeat. The battlefield was covered in bodies from both sides. There was not a hint of aether for malms around. It was now the land of the dead. 

Bel bent over and wretched again until there was nothing left in her stomach and then continued to dry heave.  

You must flee, my child. You must heal and grow stronger.

No, there had to be someone else left. There had to be someone else who had survived. She staggered as she walked around the corpses that all looked far too peaceful. There must be someone, her mothers, Aunt Serella, the Lord Commander, someone. She needed to find them, help them… 

You know there is no one left. You must leave, go to the brood of my ally.

Bel ground her teeth and her tail twitched in agitation. Not until she was sure there was no one left. She screamed as she felt pain explode behind her eyes and in her chest. 

You will go. You will survive. 

On the other side of the next ridge, Zenos scowled at the ruin of flesh that had been his body. Scowled at the corpses of the beasts which had been his best prey. Such a waste. He looked up and saw the pillar of white light that indicated the use of teleportation magics. So something yet lived. If they had survived this perhaps they would make decent enough prey to make up for the loss of him Beasts. 

~~

The dawn came with a radiant, bloody light to the Zenith. Aether condensed next to the tall old crystal. Unprepared Bel stumbled and fell to her knees. She looked up to the blood-stained sky the heralded the first dawn of the eighth umbral era. She ignored the blood trickling from her nose and the injuries from the battle. She ignored them and screamed at the rising sun. Without words, she screamed her grief, her terror, he denial. She screamed until her throat was a ruin that would make no more sound and then she sobbed until her body shut down and welcomed sleep.  

AN: Thanks to @stars-bleed-hearts-shine for letting me borrow Serella. I had intended to write a flashback/echo vision with her in it, but the battle kinda took over everything else. 

[strawberry-skies-xx]

fic recs

time to make a post about every single amazing fic I’ve read! it’s gonna be a longass post so get ready!

fandoms, ships and tropes included:

Supernatural - Destiel (mostly AUs), Wincest, Sastiel, Sabriel, Sam x Ruby, Sam x Reader // omegaverse / boyking!Sam / God!Sam

BBC Sherlock - Johnlock, Sherlock x Molly Hooper x John and included pairings, Sherlock x Mycroft x Greg x John and all included pairings // omegaverse

Loki - Loki/OC

***this entire list has NSFW fics***

SUPERNATURAL

God!Sam, no ships

The Holy Grail Bird by de_nugis for monicawoe

The God-gun has a divine recoil effect. Sam has to have another try at living with power.

...

Boyking!Sam, no ships

The King’s Guard by monicawoe

Andy had spent the last few hours watching Sam Winchester —King of Hell, God of the Abyss, Bane of Heaven— kill nearly two dozen souls, and feed them all to his pet — the biggest, scariest looking hellhound of them all.

...

Destiel

Twist and Shout by standbyme, gabriel

What begins as a transforming love between Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak in the summer of 1965 quickly derails into something far more tumultuous when Dean is drafted in the Vietnam War. Though the two both voice their relationship is one where saying goodbye is never a real truth, their story becomes fraught with the tragedy of circumstance. In an era where homosexuality was especially vulnerable, Twist and Shout is the story of the love transcending time, returning over and over in its many forms, as faithful as the sea.

...

Blades of Silver, Hearts of Gold by Scribo_Vivere

Corsair Winchester is the most feared pirate in the Caribbean waters. When he makes it his goal to attack the Pride of Heaven, a massive ship that is part of Port Lawrence's Naval fleet, he finds himself ill-prepared in every way to come face to face with Commodore Castiel Novak, the brother of the man he wishes dead. It seems an easy solution to take the Commodore captive, but Castiel's ocean-blue eyes, kissable mouth, and fiery defiance make Winchester begin to question his choice. As a war ensues on all fronts, it remains to be seen who is the prisoner, who is the master, and how far both men will go in the name of prudence, sacrifice, and love.

...

Ninety One Whiskey by komodobits

In the spring of 1944, the 104th Medical Battalion of the United States Army is disbanded, and its men reassigned to various infantry companies in preparation for their invasion of occupied France. For First Lieutenant Novak, this is less than helpful, as he has so far met his platoon’s designated medic a grand total of twice, and has both times found Sergeant Winchester to be the optimum combination of reckless, arrogant, and downright insufferable so as to make cohesive platoon function near impossible. When the time comes to move out, however, Castiel has to reconcile himself to the fact that men are going to go down and trust that Dean Winchester may well be the only person who can put them back together again.

...

Steps by Camerahead12

The moment he saw Dean Winchester dance Castiel knew he was lost.

It wasn’t the way his muscles moved as he leapt across the floor, or even the way the sweat dripped down the man’s freckled skin. It was just simply the way he danced. The passion that bled out from the movements left him breathless and thirsty for more.

And when he danced with Dean that first time, it was like falling in love.

Little did he know that falling for the man would lead to questioning everything Castiel has ever stood for. As the deadline for the studios yearly performance draws closer, will Castiel be able to come up with an idea good enough to save his company? Or will it be too late to pull it away from Crowley, his money hungry investor’s hands?

As everything begins to slowly fall into place, Fate (as She usually does) has other ideas. Just when life seems to be working out, not only will their trust in each other be tested, but their strength they’ve discovered within themselves starts to bend. Will they be able to hold it together before it snaps, leaving nothing but broken dreams in its place?

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Find Me in the Light by allmystars

Castiel is fine with his life. Really, he is. He’s content with the locals and his prying, if well-meaning, business partner and brother. Everything is just...fine. That’s how he likes it—plain and uneventful.

Until Gabriel hires Dean Winchester to work at the cafe and, suddenly, Castiel's carefully crafted isolation is broken apart like the waves that stole his mother from him, and Castiel hates him for it.

He hates Dean’s attitude—hates his car and his stupidly pretty face with that permanent smirk. He just...hates Dean Winchester.

Until he doesn’t.

Until, somehow, Dean manages to weasel his way into Castiel’s heart and take up permanent residence there. Then Castiel isn’t fine—he’s far from it, actually. He’s great—wonderful and perfect and happy.

But things change—nothing is ever-present—and this loss might kill him. It might just tear Castiel apart. After all, how do you lose something you’ve been searching for your whole life, and survive it? How do you do that?

Castiel doesn’t think he can.

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Of Twists and Turns by Kitmistry, Piento

When naval surgeon Castiel Novak is captured by the Black Impala pirates, he has no choice but to agree to their terms: He is to serve on their ship for a whole year before they release him. That doesn’t mean he is going to like it, though. Especially when their captain is the embodiment of everything Castiel despises.

Determined to earn his freedom, Castiel settles into the life of an outlaw. When the pirates’ true goal is revealed, though, he can no longer deny that things are not as black and white as he thought they were. And he can’t deny how drawn he is to Captain Winchester either.

...

Sabriel

Fifty Shades of Freedom by Aria_Lerendeair  (omegaverse fic)

Gabriel Novak is a Class-A Alpha asshole and Sam Winchester wants nothing to do with him, especially after that interview! Except then, he maybe finds out a few things about Gabriel Novak that make him hate him a little less, and hey, maybe some of that bondage stuff sounds interesting…

Golden Shades of Freedom by Aria_Lerendeair (PART 2)

After the world finds out about their relationship, Sam settles into something semi-normal, with Gabriel. The paparazzi are desperate for something, but Sam is, well. Happier than he expected to be, dating an asshole like Gabriel. That, of course, is when the invitation from Gabriel’s family had come for the summer. Sam agrees to go, only if he can bring Dean with him. A few uncomfortable family revelations and one epic fight later, Sam’s left wondering if Gabriel actually is his happily ever after.

...

Sam x Ruby (and side-Destiel)

Job & Family by TigerLilyNoh

After Dean's death (at the end of season 3), Sam and Ruby begin hunting down Lilith. Without Dean by his side, Sam finds the world of hunting to not be as black and white as he once thought. He just wants to get closure and move on with life, but outside forces aren't making that so easy. By the time the brothers reunite, Sam is a very different person than he used to be.

The battle for Hell, Heaven, and the Apocalypse begins. In these crazy times, the boys find themselves with new enemies, allies, and bedfellows.

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Sam and/or Dean x Reader

@negans-lucille-tblr​ is a great writer on Tumblr. I tried making a list of all the series I’d recommend and then realized I was just writing her entire Supernatural masterlist so here’s the link to her actual masterlist.

@winchest09​ is also a great writer. Haven’t read her entire masterlist but her Life for Rent series is amazing.

...

BBC SHERLOCK

Johnlock

The Gilded Cage by BeautifulFiction (omegaverse fic)

In a world where Omegas are the property of the elite Alphas, locked away and treasured by those wealthy enough to buy them, John never questioned his flatmate's secondary gender. Sherlock Holmes was an Alpha through-and through.

Wasn't he?

A chance discovery turns the world on its head, and John is left grappling to come to terms with Sherlock's past as events conspire to threaten their future. 

…

The Stars Move Still by BeautifulFiction

“What could I want so desperately that would make me sell my soul? What could possibly compel me to surrender the part of myself that makes me who I am: the source of my magic, my self-control, everything?"

...

BDSM (aka, thousands of words of pure filth. porn with plot if you squint.)

various pairings between Sherlock, Greg, John, Mycroft, Molly, and Eurus. (Molly and Eurus are non-con relationships)

Something Extraordinary by sherlock1110, sherlockian4evr

In a Dom/sub world, Dom!John and sub!Mycroft have found each other as have Dom!Sherlock and sub!Greg. This is their story.

…

Things Unwanted by sherlock1110, sherlockian4evr

sherlock1110, sherlockian4evr

This series contains variations on non-con/dub-con scenarios, most of which involve abduction and/or imprisonment of one form or another.

…

The Detective, His Doctor, His Brother, and His DCI by sherlock1110, sherlockian4evr

This is the first fic where The Detective and the Doctor and The British Government and the DI come together here.

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Fics of the Void (aka very dark fics, non-con is a given)

Wincest

A Threefold Path to Redemption by rei_c

Sam finds a way to keep Dean from going to hell: he'll go in his brother's place. He knows it's going to be bad and that he'll emerge changed. He never knew how much.

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Suite!verse by leonidaslion

This is how the world ends, this is how the world ends, this is how the world ends…

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Sastiel

Like a Nail to a Cross by azazelsocks (unfinished but still posting)

“I want what any god wants,” Castiel said. “I want you. Your life, your soul, your devotion. Everything you have to give belongs to me, your God. In exchange, your family will be safe.”

There really was no other answer. “I agree,” Sam said.

The new God orders the Winchesters to kneel or be destroyed, and Sam, as always, will do anything to save his brother.

...

Sam and Dean-centric, no ships

Semper Familia by KatZen

When his dad comes back into the clearing with a scrawny kid he's just bought in tow, Dean isn't surprised. He knows Lilim aren't human, that they're creatures, like witches or wendigo.

But the kid that John's got by the arm, who's pulled as far away from Dean's dad as possible without actually trying to get his arm back, the kid whose eyes don't leave John and are bright with fear, the kid who looks like he hasn't eaten in a couple of days and is obviously favoring his left leg...

This kid looks an awful lot like a person. And what's more, he's the same age Sammy would have been.

...

LOKI

Loki/OC

Banditry by LoquaciousQuibbler (unfinished but still posting)

Noir, a thief living on the streets of Asgard, didn't realize it was Prince Loki she had pickpocketed. Call it a happy coincidence. She's immediately charmed by him, but how could a thief get her hands on the key to the prince's heart? Oh, no need. She's pretty handy with a lock pick.

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shameless self promotion

LOKI | no ships

Stories of Innocence

A collection of short stories (five chapters or less) about Loki's youth. For those people who have a sudden craving for when Loki was happy and before Odin happened.

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The End

The opposite end of the spectrum; where my Stories of Innocence are of young Thor and Loki, these are older Thor and Loki stories. They are part of the MCU and are based on events from those movies. Warning: lots of feels (I made myself almost cry for a character I dislike because of what I wrote).

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BBC SHERLOCK | Johnlock

Loving a Married Man

I seem to love to make myself cry. A small collection of Sherlock feels stories. Warning: may make you cry.

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SUPERNATURAL | Boyking!Sam / Sastiel 

Prompt Fight | on ao3

A collection of boyking!Sam short stories written in accordance to prompts given.

[ghouls-dream]

If you write for era 3 could you do some general Alpha ghoul nsfw headcanons?

Oh my, my! I do write for both eras yeah, but thats like the first request i get of era 3 AND IM SO EXCITED THANK YOU SO MUCH <3 Also - hELL YEAH ALPHA TIME!!!

Alpha NSFW HCs (WARNING: Hella smutty, 18+!!)

Alpha is a fire ghoul and fire is related to anger, passion, raw feelings etc. (Mars if we speak of Gods)

 that being said - he's extremely passionate in everything he does - music, sex, rage etc.

he's a dominant for sure, but that doesn't mean he's a complete top - being a "guiding" bottom is one of his major turn ons

 loves bitting to the point when he could see himself leaving marks on his s/o

 bossing around in bed - "On your knees" "Look at me!" "Shut up, you cock thirsty slut!" are one of his favorite phrases

degradation kink, but nothing too extreme

dirty talk (i meAN CAN ANYONE FORGET HIS STAGE MOUTH PORN??!)

He really hates brats, talking back and all that - he doesn't find it flirty or anything like it (like Dew or Swiss would), it staright up fuels his sexual rage

pet names - "dirty little whore"; "obedient little slut"; "slutty brat" - he loves using those, while he's really INTO the act

he's not a big fan of love making and the cuddly part - raw fucking is what he does best

handcuffs?? handcuffs.

WAX!!! (black or red to be precise) he loves watching how the hot wax melts on his mate's skin and the way they whimper in pleasure

haIR PULLING - Alpha loves showing how dominant and rough he can get so whenever he wants to really play with his s/o, he pulls their hair - either playfully or roughly.

ropes. actually any kind of movement restriction is in his interest - he loves the feeling of being in charge, having someone obey to him or even fear him in bed. He's a great authority amongst the Church so no difference in bed

fingering - since he's the lead guitar you can imagine how good that little shit would be

recieving hardcore oral is one of his favorite things (also the gagging sounds can shoot him over the edge)

 spanking is not really his thing, he leaves that for Omega.

Alpha iS NOT A DADDY; he loves being called "sir", it tickles his ego and turns him on a lot, along with heavy breathing and loud shouting from his mate

all in all he's a really tough dom in my eyes, but if he really settles for someone that matches his impulsive, hardcore nature he'd be down for a lot of vanilla shit

i know i said no cuddling, BUT he's not a monster if he feels his mate really needing it after a long session - he'd swallow his "hardcore dom" nature and just do it, maybe even joke a little to make them feel better

[haleofanidea]

Peter Hale: Roads Lead Somewhere

Peter didn't trust much of ownership that wasn't self-knowledge.  It was often the only thing that couldn't be burnt away.  He knew what he liked and he appreciated that about himself.  He liked his lovely imported car, he liked the splash of his enemy's blood against his face, he liked an aged negroni and a rare steak, he liked old books, and he liked knowing things.   He did not like appearing weak.  He did not like feeling like a lunatic barely holding on to things.  He did not like dwelling on the past.  Peter looked out the windshield to the view in front of him, the steering wheel creaking under his white knuckle grip. Direwood seemed to delight in pushing him to do things he didn't like.  In return, he was at least given great freedom.

Direwood let him cross its borders - he suspected because it knew he'd be drawn back, covetous of the town.  When he left he drove until the road through Direwood became someplace else, he would find a club or bar and sleep with someone too young for him - some baby who'd just hatched into their twenties with daddy issues.  Sometimes he stole things, sometimes he bought them, and sometimes he slunk like some rabid creature until he found violence.  In the end, he drove back again and the next morning was back at his desk at the Archive.

It was a balancing act not feeling trapped.  At least it was a situation he was familiar with.  He had learned too young to forget that he was second to the star that was Talia.  Blessed daughter, first of birth, of strength, of favor.  Now in the era of television psychiatrists and self-help books, he saw how their relationship was forged toxic, a poisoned sword that both of them had been determined to grip by the blade.  If anyone had been more wise and less stubborn they would have separated the siblings and let Peter go be an alpha of a pack off and away.

They hadn't though.  Peter had been groomed very quickly to be The Left Hand of the Alpha, the Sinister advisor to Talia, opposite to her Second.  There he had sharpened every sharp-toothed instinct, forcing himself quiet at Talia's double standard.  It was the duty of an Alpha to do whatever was necessary to keep their pack strong and safe.  Nothing else was as important.  An alpha without a pack barely deserved to live.  But she had gone soft. It had been more important to her to feel good about herself than to be practical, more important to have a pretty little fairy tale life than to ensure her pack kept living.

And so they hadn't.

She put no thought forth to Derek who was born soft.  As she made him into a lamb in wolf's clothing she put no thought forth that she was making him into a sacrificial lamb.

Peter got out of his lovely perfect car to stand on the old overgrown path in an old overgrown patch of the woods.  He hadn't walked these grounds in over a hundred years and hadn't been expecting to walk around them for a hundred more. This was where Direwood’s unreliable roads brought him.   In front of him was the ruins of the Hale manor house.  He tried to move with something like aloof grace, but he could feel his hands shake with rage.

He suspected Direwood itself had some kind of intelligence.  Something sideways to animal intelligence, something like the sort of cognition of a plant or an amoeba if at a higher level.  Reactive, responsive, with instinctive desires.  It wanted things, but it wanted things so different than what a person wanted it could be impossible to bargain with or blackmail.  The shadow of its attempts to communicate could only be observed.  Peter’s first instinct was that bringing him here to the ruins of his old home with all its old graves was a threat.  The fear and rage that screamed its way through him made him want to tear off his skin and run away as a wolf.  He was not certain that sort of threat would occur to the town.  It brought him here for a reason.  It wanted him to know something, to do something.

His claws dug into his arms, his mouth was thick with teeth.  He could feel the blood on his skin, smell it.  It was better than smelling the ghost of ash.  “I’m  almost the last Hale here.  There are only a few Hales left.  I can’t go back and fix things.  I outlived everyone.  Everyone died and I buried them.  I did my duty as best I could.”  

There was no magical wind directing him where to go or a path suddenly opening.  Just him and some old walls.  He felt his body shake wildly as though he was freezing to death.

“I did the best I could,” he whispered.