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tamilhobbit · 3 hours ago

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Speaking as an Izzy hater - I found his character racist, homophobic and despicable in S1, did not see any appeal at all, and then copped a lot of shit from racist Izzy stans on Twitter (I used to enjoy fic that gave him a good arc, but those fandom experiences led me to start avoiding basically anything to do with him). Maybe the demographics are different on Tumblr, but Twitter was overwhelmingly pro-Izzy in a way that didn't acknowledge any of the bad he'd done and was hostile to anyone who disliked him.

I also thought his 'character growth' in S2 was too rushed. Him showing up in drag and singing felt more like Fandom Izzy. Canon Izzy had made a very very big leap there that, to me, didn't feel earned or justified. But I'll freely admit that my poor fandom experiences have soured me against him.

Otherwise, I agree with most of these points. I'm very much a Gentlebeard shipper and I still did not like the portrayal of their relationship this season. I have many of the same criticisms you expressed.

And it's gross that the 'talk it through as a crew' show refused to deal with everyone's PTSD, and even gave Lucius SA-related PTSD and played it off as a joke. Pete was horrifically cruel to him about it. That is one of my biggest issues with S2.

I think the writers suffered from being too involved with the fandom, to be honest. And it affected their own vision of their characters.

I've already said that to me, someone who is not an Izzy stan, the Izzy we got in S2 was much more like the Izzy I saw in fanfics and fandom than the Izzy we met in S1. Yes, Izzy could plausibly have become that person, but it takes a lot of work and growth that I feel they skipped over.

There was also just way too much going on. They crammed too much in and didn't have the time to treat any of it with the detail and respect it deserved. Given the show had to be cut down to 8 seasons, the writers desperately needed to be ruthless in cutting and editing. They needed to take out anything that didn't serve the plot or character growth, so they could focus on the important things.

They didn't.

Anne and Mary, for example. They don't actually add anything concrete to the storyline beyond being a backdrop for Stede and Ed! They serve as symbolism and foreshadowing, sure, but... of what? If we take them as foreshadowing of Stede and Ed, all it tells us is that this idyllic retirement that they end the show on won't actually be a happy ending for them. That they won't be happy with it. Which is a weird choice. Or do they serve as narrative foils of Stede and Ed, as a dark mirror? The narrative isn't very clear about that, to be honest.

The feeling I got was that that they were fanservice. Fans were clamouring for Anne Bonny and Mary Reed, so they gave us pirate lesbians, regardless of whether it was useful. The writers should have cut them and focused more on the plot, or made them relevant to the plot. They didn't.

Fans wanted Zheng Yi Sao, so we got her. Even though the plot ended up making her look a little foolish and incompetent by the end, in contrast to the first half.

Fans wanted Izzy to embrace his queerness, so we got that, even though it seemed like a rather abrupt shift.

Fans wanted more women and POC, so we got Archie. Who just shows up and isn't very well fleshed-out tbh, and ends up breaking up Jim and Olu. (Are they poly? It's only ever hinted at. And then Olu leaves for Zheng Yi Sao anyway. If they then become a polycule, it is entirely up to the fans.)

Fans wanted Stede to become competent and famous as a pirate, so we got that. Fans wanted Gentlebeard sex, so we got that. Fans discussed a soft shore retirement for Gentlebeard with Oluwande captaining the crew, so we got that.

This was some Monkey's Paw bullshit. We got a everything that we'd mused about on Twitter and Tumblr. It just wasn't executed well.

And yeah, even though I dislike Izzy, I do think his death was stupid. And in my opinion, a cop-out. It was like Shadow Weaver in She-Ra - you don't need character growth or redemption if you sacrifice yourself instead! With the double whammy that both Ed and Izzy have been toxic and awful to each other, and this narrative choice basically wriggles out of having to deal with that in any meaningful way.

Question: I enjoyed s1 OF OFMD, but for various reasons I never actually got around to watching s2 (pick up most of the plot from tumblr tho). What exactly went wrong in s2 that got so many people upset?

Oh, boy. Very long rant incoming.

So, for context, S2 had a significantly smaller budget, which necessitated moving the filming location to union-unfriendly New Zealand, reducing the number of actors/number of appearances of established actors, and cutting down the number of episodes from 10 to 8. In a show where each episode is only about half an hour long, that last one alone was enough to seriously hamper any character development or plot. I am very comfortable putting the vast majority of the blame on HBO because of these financial decisions.

The short version is that Jenkins et. al. needed to address and build on the problems left hanging in S1 while also getting the characters to the end of their character trajectories in case there was no S3 while also leaving room for additional episodes in case there was a S3, in a grand total of four hours, and failed.

The long version is that there were a bunch of what I'd consider small problems in isolation that came together and exploded in the S2 finale.

The reduced cast necessitated breaking up the crew (ex: having Swede marry Jackie and stay on land with her, so they don't need to pay Nat Faxon for all eight episodes) and not spending as much time on their relationships as S1 did.

The reduced time meant that the entire season was rushed (in contrast to S1, which takes place over at least several weeks if not months, most of S2 takes place in roughly five days), leading both to a lot of telling rather than showing (because they don't have time to show you), including vital character and relationship development.

This includes:

Having the Kraken half of the crew beat Ed to death after months of being abused by him – abuse that is clearly shown to have given them PTSD and a well-justified fear and hatred of him – only for them to be okay with him two in-universe days later;

On that note, having Stede dismiss the crew's concerns about Ed because he loves him and also we only have three more episodes left to fit in everything so we need to get over it really fast, even though Stede is supposed to be well-meaning and caring (even if he's not good at it all the time);

Resolving the issue of Stede abandoning Ed in one day, then having them "go slowly" in their relationship for two days and then have some spur-of-the-moment sex, and then the next afternoon have them break up over their diverging career aspirations, and then the day after that resolve that problem and retire on land while the rest of the crew sails off into the sunset;

Stede becoming a fantastic pirate captain over the course of one day, becoming wildly popular in the piracy world two days later, and then deciding the day after that to never be a captain again because he is retiring with Ed;

Having Ed and Stede decide to retire together as what is implied to be the end point of their relationship arc, when none of Stede's issues from S1, like his poor self-esteem, have been so much as mentioned by anyone, implying that he's either magically gotten over them or they don't matter all that much, actually, even though they were the catalyst for basically everything he did in S1;

Ed having two separate character crises – "I am an unlovable person" and "I want to do something with my life other than piracy" – not spending a lot of time on either one, having moments that clearly indicate he is still working on both problems and they have not been resolved, and then apparently having them both be resolved in the final episode despite nothing occurring to actually make that happen, and in regards to the latter, despite the story actively undermining it by repeatedly showing he can't do anything other than piracy;

Related to the above, Ed ending the series as allegedly being loved by the crew as a family (thus solving Crisis #1) despite this never actually being shown, demonstrated, or even fucking alluded to onscreen. If anything, it shows the exact opposite.

This last point is especially galling to me because of what is probably the most divisive issue in the fandom right now: killing off Izzy Hands after giving him seven episodes of character development.

The show begins with the Kraken crew clearly trying to use the skills they learned as part of Stede's crew to cope with their incredibly shitty situation and care for each other, which includes Izzy. Izzy, on his end, tries to protect the crew and speak up for them, which results in him being repeatedly hurt (both implicitly, as Ed at one point says "that's another toe" in response to Izzy advocating for the crew and we later see he's missing more than one toe already, and explicitly, as Ed shoots him in the fucking leg in front of the crew when he stands up for them).

This camaraderie is shown again and again and again. Frenchie, Jim, and Archie take care of Izzy while his leg is infected, at risk to their own lives. Izzy's misery over losing his leg is what unites the PTSD-ridden Kraken crew and the well-meaning-but-ignorant-of-PTSD marooned crew, who are initially at odds, to make him a new prosthetic leg. Izzy gives Lucius advice about forgiving Ed. Izzy is introduced to drag and opens up enough to sing at a crew party, and the whole crew is having fun together while Ed and Stede are in their cabin having sex for the first time. Izzy gives Stede pirate captain lessons and bonds with him when Ed leaves him. Izzy provokes the season's villain into focusing on him and then gives a big speech about how piracy is about belonging to something, giving the rest of the crew time to try to escape.

Recall that Season 1 had some pretty well-established universe rules, one of which was that it runs on Muppet physics/magical realism. People can jump off yardarms, hit the side on the way down, and be perfectly fine. People can get stabbed in the liver and it's totally okay because it's probably not that important, and even can stay pinned to a mast all night that way with only mild discomfort. Buttons can talk to birds and see long distances without a spyglass and put hexes on people. Good people can be hurt (Stede is stabbed repeatedly), bad people can die (the Badmintons, Geraldo), but no one we care about is ever killed.

This is repeated in Season 2: Ed is beaten into a coma with a cannonball and wakes up like Sleeping Beauty after a spirit journey, with no injuries to his face or body. Buttons turns into a seagull after spending an episode doing a magic ritual and is never seen again (because they couldn't keep paying Ewen Bremner due to the budget cuts). Jackie microdoses her husbands with poison to build up their immunity, so that she can later pull a Dread Pirate Westley and poison the British with shared drinks.

So: in the finale, the villain of the season is taken hostage by the pirates (for reasons? unclear how that fits in the plan), happens to have a gun on him (no one checked??), shoots Izzy on the right side and then leaves with no repercussions. The entire crew stands around silently doing nothing while Ed cries over Izzy and tells him that he's his only family.

And Izzy fucking Hands, the guy who just spent eight episodes bonding with and protecting everyone, uses his last words to reassure Ed that him becoming Blackbeard/the Kraken was Izzy's fault and that the crew is Ed's family and they all love him. No one else says anything to Izzy or tries to comfort him or help him in any way.

I repeat: in a show predicated on the idea that bullies and bigots die stupid deaths while queer people and POC are basically magic, a show that was praised for being kind to queer people by not making them worry about their faves suffering or dying, a show founded on the strength of the relationships between the characters, the guy who went through a season-long arc of learning to embrace his pirate found family and his own queerness is shot for stupid reasons on the side we're told isn't important and dies while everyone just stands there. His last words are about the whole crew loving Ed when the only person that the whole crew has loved all season is him.

Anyway, never mind all that, let's cut to Lucius and Pete getting married and Stede and Ed retiring!

Complicating all this is that people who liked Izzy (or even said anything insufficiently mean about Izzy) were harassed for months in between seasons with insults, slurs, and actual fucking death threats. Izzy's growth was kind of a vindication for liking him: it meant that, despite all the harassment, we were right to like him and care about him as a character. Even people who didn't like him initially started to like him during Season 2.

And then he dies, and now there's a bunch of people saying that Izzy fans are big whiny babies who can't handle fictional death, and actually his death was so meaningful and beautiful and the only logical end to his arc, and it can't be bad writing because people die in real life all the time, and also he admitted he fed Ed's darkness so actually he was a terrible person all along anyway and they were right to hate him (and his fans)!

So, yeah, there are a lot of reasons why it's so hated, and I'm probably only addressing the problems of the pro-Izzy people (from what I can tell, BlackBonnet shippers who don't like Izzy think Ed and Stede's relationship is fine and dandy, but I'm sure that there are other criticisms they have that I have not addressed). I'm not even addressing the issues with Jim and Oluwande's relationship this season (and whooo boy are there issues).

It wasn't a universally bad season. There were episodes I really loved and still do. But the finale was a train wreck, and because it was a train wreck, a lot of people are looking back at what happened before the wreck and realizing that, oh, the train lost its brakes and steering because of the budget cuts and the engineers kept throwing fuel in the engine to make it go faster, and huh, now that I think of it, that part earlier in the trip was really wobbly but I didn't pay much attention to it at the time because I was sure the engineers had everything covered.

#Our Flag Means Death #OFMD #OFMD Season 2 #OFMD critical #anti Izzy #Gentlebeard #Edward Teach #Stede Bonnet #Blackbeard #Gentleman Pirate #Lucius Spriggs #Oluwande Boodhari #Archie #Black Pete #Jim Jimenez

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we-were-beautiful · 2 days ago

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Unraveled Ends Chapter 2

Pre chapter Shenanigans

a/n: Sooooo long time no post but I'm here now and that's what matters. Writers block hit me like a brick wall after my last piece that I did for the riders quadrant fic exchange back in July, that piece was only supposed to be 3k in words but ended up around 7.8k. I had been working on this chapter at the same time and had roughly 2k words but after I got through the edits on the gift fic couldn't seem to string together a coherent sentence much less moving the plot forward. all my photos for the moodboard/aesthetic come from pinterest. Last bit of info is that we did pick up two beta readers for this story( but I am always open for more if people want to hop in). So big Thanks to @loving-and-dreaming and @curse-bearing-hips for reviewing this chapter. That said we are all still human so there is more than likely some mistakes. And a huge thanks to @whisplion for inspiring me to write this fic. Hope y’all enjoy

Summary: A tailor in the heart of Velaris finds herself mated to the two most powerful fae in Prythian. Unfortunately for her the mating bond only snapped for her, leaving her to question on how to move forward. Should she wait for her mates to feel the bond or should she go ahead and reject it and live with the gaping hole in her heart

Poly!Feysand x Reader

Warnings: None but there is angst

WC:3.1k

The next few weeks are nothing short of hell. I didn’t know pretending like nothing is wrong would be as exhausting as it has been. It was a never ending cycle of waking up, getting ready, going to work, and coming home. At work I was dancing a fine line of hiding everything from my seamstresses and sister and failing miserably. The only small mercy that I have had was that I haven’t had to see my mates. Thank the mother for that; I don’t know how I would have reacted to seeing them so soon after the bond had snapped. Not seeing them however did nothing to dampen the feelings that the two of them would throw down the bond unknowingly. Deep down I know that they didn’t mean to send those memories and feelings to me, but on a good day it makes me sick to my stomach. I don’t know why it has gotten worse. I was fine for a year of burying the feelings that I have for the two down.

They were so happy together, and I don’t have a place in their perfect lifestyle. I thought that I had seen them around town a lot when they were just my customers but now it felt like every time I turned around they were there. It has increased since they came in to get their outfits for Starfall designed. I swear I ran into Rhys yesterday when I went to get lunch for myself. I ran into Feyre the other night while I was getting the groceries for my sisters and me. The two of them had actually approached me a week ago while I was at the park with my baby sister. They had little Nyx with them then and it felt like someone had taken a hold of my heart and started squeezing. The babe was adorable at two years of age. He's starting to reign terror on his parents who had apparently decided he needed to run off his energy at the park. The two of them are far more friendly with people than I would have liked, but mostly that friendliness was targeted towards me. As they joined me on the bench sandwiching me between them. They ended up chatting my ear off for the better part of an hour. There brushes of hands against my body that were too well placed to be incidental. It felt like a vice clamping down around my heart as I left the park with my sister to head home. Feyre had wanted me to stay a bit longer so that she could continue talking to me about my sketches.

The physical interactions with them weren't the worst thing though. It was the images and emotions that the two had unknowingly sent down the bond. It wasn’t unusual to get a flash of lust from one of them at any given time of the day. It was inconvenient to just get hit with the overwhelming need for someone when I’m with clients. Late at night though I get the images. Of my mates tangled up in pleasure. Sometimes it was flashes of Feyre's face screwed up in pleasure; other of Rhys’s eyes alight with lust and desire. Those nights sleep was hard to come by. A few of those nights I found myself back in the shop working on my clients orders, anything to keep my mind from lingering on the two people that didn’t know I was bound to them. I was surprised to be receiving so much from them down the bond given that both of them are powerful Demati. I figured that they would be skilled at keeping to themselves.

Last night was one of those sleepless nights. It was a damn near endless barrage of want and need coming from both of them. If I hadn’t known that their mating bond had been accepted between them I would have assumed that they had accepted it last night. I left a note for my middle sister in the kitchen before heading to the shop in the dead of night. Being the night court, plenty of people were milling about the streets and shops in the palace of thread and jewels. Thankfully it isn’t one of the nights we keep the shop open for those who live under the stars, I could work in peace and not be bothered by anyone. No customers, no seamstresses, no nosy sisters, and most importantly no over friendly mates or their friends.

It was wonderful to sit in the shop and do what I love with my shadows dancing around me. The shadows had been my friends since I was a very small faeling. They were more shy when I was out in public but when it is just me they come to life and sing. I had only seen two other people like me. One was my maternal grandfather who was from a court that had long since been lost; and the other was Azriel. Grandfather was able to teach me how to control the shadows and use them to my advantage. But he also told me to keep the gift to myself. Shadowsingers had long been coveted by the courts to be used as spies; and he and my parents were worried that the former High Lord would have conscripted me into his spy network if it was ever found out. I had successfully kept it a secret for nearly 400 years. Though times like this, when the shop is closed and I have the room to myself, I let them loose. A soft smile grows on my face as I watch the playful shadows dance about the room. A few of them try to be helpful by handing me tools and instruments that I need as I work on Feyre’s Starfall gown.

Feyre’s dress had been coming along beautifully. She had come in for a fitting last week where we were checking the fit on the mock up. The High Lady had all but begged to have a similar fabric to my own. We had more of the fabric left; thank gods for that; the last thing I wanted to do was take a trip to the Autumn court to source more. I lose track of time working on the dress; so much so that I didn’t realize the sun had risen until I heard the lock on the door turn.

“Sis, are you still here?” Genevieve calls out. Of course she came here. “I saw your note on the counter this morning. I dropped Itty bitty off at school and brought breakfast.”

I sigh and set my things down to make my way out of the work room. Genevieve stands in the room looking so much like our mother; hair tied up in a worn red scarf, a dark red linen shirt and comfortable leather trousers. Ready for a day at the blacksmith. In her hands she balances a bag of what I assume is the breakfast and two cups in the other.

“Your shadows are so helpful I’m jealous.” She passes me one of the cups and I take a sniff and immediately am greeted by the comforting scent of coffee “ Were you here all night again?”

It's not hard to hear the concern in her voice as she takes a once over of me.

“Yes” I responded, taking a sip of the delicious coffee that she had brought.

“Ok what is going on with you.” She cocks her head to the side “It seems like you have been stressed this past year. Well more so than normal. This is starting to get worrisome. The number of times you have left the house in the middle of the night and worked through to morning is ridiculous.”

“What’s going on? I know it's not money since I help with the books and we have two sources of income coming in.” She takes a breath. “You can talk to me Sis.”

“Let's go into the office. The ladies should be coming in soon.” I led her into my office not wanting to state what was going on when one of my employees could walk in. Once we are in the office I gesture for her to take a seat in front of my desk. I take a seat and my chair, bones creaking as I sit on the soft leather. She fixes me with a look telling me to start talking.

“So I met my mates.” I sigh running a hand through my hair

“You met your mate. That's good news right.” She starts rifling through the bag of food

“Mates. Two of them.” She stops looking up at me

“Two. Is that possible?” Her eyebrows nearly disappear into her hairline.

“It is.” I lean back in my chair. “Incredibly rare but possible.”

“So let me repeat my earlier question. That’s good news right?”

“It’s complicated.” I bite my lower lip “The two of them are already mated. Sealed the bond and everything. But the bond only snapped for me.”

“They don’t know.” Her voice drops in concern

“No,they don’t.”

“So what is stressing you out about it? You wouldn’t be leaving the house in the middle of the night over nothing?”

“They are sending things down the bond. Images, emotions; it’s driving me crazy Gen.”

“Shit, well can you block them out.” Mom had taught the two of us how to shield from Demati when we were younger.

“I’ve tried; it only is able to dull it.” I fidget in my seat. “It also doesn’t help that I keep seeing the two of them every time I go out into the city.”

“Oh..” She hesitates “Do you mind if I ask who it is.?” I quickly sent a few shadows out to make sure that the shop was still empty and that there were no busy bodies lurking around the shop.

“It's the High Lord and Lady.” This was the first time I had ever said those words out loud. I guess I had thought that if I didn’t say it then I could pretend it wasn’t real and that it didn’t bother me. Gen lets out a low whistle.

“That does complicate things. I was going to tell you to grow a pair and tell them but fuck. The High Lord and Lady that… that makes things way more complex.”

“You see why I am stressed now.” I can feel the ugly emotions filling my chest.

“Yeah, you are in the world's shittiest situation.” She lets out a sigh “It's not like you can go up to them and say hey I am your mate. Fuck I am sorry Sis.”

I let out a wet laugh, a few tears escaped my eyes and rolled down my cheeks “ There’s nothing for you to apologize for. I just got dealt a shitty hand by the mother.”

“Are you going to…” She trails off. I know what she was going to say though. It wasn’t something that was talked about often and not in polite company. Rejecting the bond.

“It’s an option, and I am considering it. I want to ask a few friends of mine in Day about it first though. Since it hasn’t snapped for them they shouldn’t notice but I would like some confirmation first.” It helped that I had friends in other courts that I could gather information from; and there was no better place for information than the Day Court.

“I will support whatever decision you make. You deserve to be happy Sis, and if your happiness is achieved by breaking the bond then do it.”

The conversation between us dies after that as she passes me a blueberry muffin from the bag. Seems she stopped by our favorite bakery before heading over here. Time seems to fly too quickly and all too soon Gen has to leave for work leaving me here by myself. Although I’m not on my own for too much longer as my employees start trickling in.

The day seems to stretch on and on as clients make their way into the shop for fittings or to pick up their orders. The dull chatter of my employees and the various customers buzzes in my ears as I methodically pull a small needle through water-like silk. It's hard to make out any distinguishable conversation from behind my office door. Today seems like one of those days when time is just suspended and I can work in peace. There is a quiet content hum from my mates bond; one of the few times that I haven't felt heightened emotions from either of them.

A soft knock shatters the silence of the office, effectively breaking the spell of tranquility that had fallen over me

“Come in.” My voice cracks just a bit from not using it. The door squeaks open as a familiar head of midnight hair pokes in. Violet eyes twinkle in amusement as a smile grows across his stupidly handsome face.

“Sweetheart!” The door swings open the rest of the way as Rhysand swaggers his way into my office like he owns it. I am quick to stand from my desk.

“High lord.” I give him a polite curtsy, slamming my mental shields up before meeting his gaze

“How many times do I have to tell you it's Rhys?” He laughs before taking a seat in one of the leather chairs in front of my desk. “ So are you ready for my fitting or should I come back later.”

Shit… Shit shit shit. I had completely forgotten that he was on my books for his second fitting today. It wasn’t like I was completely unprepared. No his suit was ready for the fitting but I was nowhere near mentally prepared for a fitting and not having slept the night before was going to be the actual death of me.

“No, you are fine.” I move from behind the desk “Let me go grab your suit and we will get you out of here in no time.”

“No need to rush, I quite enjoy your company.” I cannot afford to focus on my racing heart right now. I need to get him out of this shop as quickly as possible. I move through the back of the shop with practiced ease quickly locating the High Lord’s suit hanging neatly next to the High Lady’s gown. The two pieces were works of art in themselves that compliment each other. The suit as dark as the night sky embossed fabric giving the illusion of swirling depths. The dress flowed off the hanger like liquid moonlight, the delicate silk the identical twin to my own gown. Small gems sewn into the bodice catch and reflect the light like the stars that will make their journey across the sky on Starfall. For as much as I don’t want to care about the two, these pieces tell a different story. If I wasn’t just a little bit attached to the two of them I would have passed the designs along to another dressmaker and been done with it; but now I painstakingly designed and sewn these garments for my mates. I let out a small sigh before reaching up to grab the suite. Once I get back to my office I am quick to pass the suit off to Rhys directing him to the small changing area at the back of the office. I quickly begin to route around my desk for my supplies.

An hour, all I have to do is make it an hour and then I will be free of Rhysand for the time being. It feels like forever before he walks out from behind the curtain. It is only years of working with Rhysand that keeps me from gasping out. If the suit was beautiful on the hanger and dress form it is absolutely stunning on the male it was made for. Rhys makes his way over to the platform and mirror in the office stepping up before moving to fuss with the cuffs.

“This is a beautiful suit Sweetheart.” He moves to pick off the smallest piece of lint on the collar. I move to stand behind him to begin the process of adjusting the way the suit sits on Rhysand.

We continued the song and dance that we had done for many years to get the suit to fit him perfectly. I can't help the small ache in my chest as I circle around him placing pins and chalk lines where minute alterations need to be made. Rhys is beaming the whole time chatting away like we hadn’t seen each other just the other day. I can feel the long day in my bones, my hands ache from the countless hours of work. My fingertips are raw from the amount of times I have jammed pins and needles into them. While I try to appropriately match Rhys energy, it's easy to tell that he isn’t buying the act.

“You seem tired.” He arches a brow at me as I move to pin the hem of his pants.

“My mates kept me up last night.” A mischievous glint grows in his violet eyes.

“Oh. They kept you up .” He teased but hidden in the back of his teasing tone seemed to be a bit of jealousy… possessiveness.

“Yeah the two of them kept sending all of their emotions down the bond last night.” I sigh looking up at him from my spot on the floor

“Two mates…” He stumbles with his words. He hasn’t done that since he was a teen and I was helping my father with his fitting “The mother has blessed you.”

“Blessed or cursed.” I put the pins down.

“Cursed.” He questions

“The bond only snapped for me.” A small sad smile grows on my face. My mental shields are intact and stronger than ever and it's not like I can tell Rhys that he and Feyre are my mates.

“Have you told them?” He questions, holding a hand out to help me from the floor

“No. The two of them have already sealed the bond and have started their own perfect little family.” It feels like an Illyrian has punched me in the gut as I make this confession to him “I don’t want to ruin that for them.”

“So what are you planning to do?” He tilts his head looking at me in sympathy “ Because you seem to have wilted these past few months.

“I have a few things I am thinking about doing. I want to seek out a few friends in Day first before committing to it.”

“Committing to what Sweetheart?” he gazes at me with concern

“Breaking the bond.” And as those words leave my lips you can see the color drain from his face.

Tag list: @rachelnicolee @goldenmagnolias @jesssicapanigua @sweetorangeblossom @cat-or-kitten @alowint @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @coldpeachkitten @esposadomd @araneea92 @saltedcoffeescotch @persephonesalvatore

#acotar x reader #acotar #acomaf #acowar #poly! feysand x reader #poly!feysand x reader #poly!feysand #rhysand x reader #rhys x feyre #rhys x reader #feyre x reader #feysand x reader #feyre archeron x reader #unraveled ends #feyre acotar #rhys acotar #rhysand

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thehigherseekerastro · 20 hours ago

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Astrology Observations: Non-chart Edition 💻

This is just a quick post, a short list of astrology opinions – my own –, about the world of astrology online itself, not the actual placements described, but that I think are worth noting to help better analyze and understand the astrology content found on the internet. Enjoy!

(♠) (♠️) (♠️) (♠️) (♠️) (♠️) (♠️) (♠️) (♠️) (♠️)

Beware of "roasting placements" posts –

regardless if it's on Tumblr, X or TikTok. Those are VERY broad "descriptions" (if we can call it that). Anybody who understands how astrology works would never generalize to such a level that they think they can roast an entire placement, as if there was only one possible manifestation for that placement. There's an entire chart that is very unique to everyone. Your (and other people's) chart can be set up in a way that makes you behave the complete opposite of that stereotype, so people can't just be accusing others of things without knowing them lol.

Not to mention that they are usually plain rude and ignorant for no reason, just to be spiteful.

Astrology is not "Projection Land" –

so don't use it to, nor fall for someone else doing it. It's nobody's excuse to trash their ex, their mother, the friend they had a falling-out with, through you, making you feel horrible about yourself, just because they are projecting their own feelings onto a particular placement.

So, yes, there are patterns to signs, placements and even elements, but that needs to be handled with a lot of responsibility. It needs careful analysis, and the person needs to be able to separate their personal grievances from the actual information before they vomit their disdain on the internet where anyone can see. I always make sure to include a blend of positive and negative POSSIBLE manifestations of placements, and I make that clear, so that people know it's a MAYBE, and also not about everyone. It's not to insult others, more so to inform them of what you should be aware of IN CASE THEY ENCOUNTER IT.

So the people who are like "X-Y-Z placements are TRASH!!!! I dated so and so and it went horribly blah blah blah"...

Keep on scrolling. Move along. They're bitter and they're either trying to make you feel horrible too or antagonize you against someone else. Remember: misery loves company.

Don't use astrology to save face either –

so don't be hyping up your own toxic trait that is in fact present to excuse yourself.

"Oh, Tauruses are stubborn," (stereotype) "but that's because they are consistent and see things through."

NO, BABY. Tauruses are consistent AND they can be annoying as hell with their stubbornness and acting a fool, but still refusing to act right. The two things can coexist.

If you happen to manifest one of the more challenging stereotypes of a placement, it's not there for nothing. It's a lesson for you to work on and heal as soon as you're made aware of it. So don't be using astrology to justify staying in your troublesome habits just because there might be a quality attached to it. That's not maturing and growing. Growing is realizing all things work in balance, and there's downsides and potential to most things. So hone the positive aspects of that placement, but continue to try to heal the challenging ones.

Avoid astrology content creators who use their blog/profile as their little Burn Book –

just attacking people and placements right and left. "This sign is manipulative!", "that planet in such house is a jealous and bitter person!", "females with such rising are fake!".

They don't know shit. They just want to air out their anger. If you absorb it, that's on you. So, if you notice somebody only has negative things to say all the time and never praises anybody... RED FLAG.

And yes, I'm also talking about the people who exclusively make content like "How will your relationship end based on your 12H in Composite", "Synastry aspects that indicate you will be cheated on", "Signs of a narcissist in a birth chart", and just overall fear-mongering and negativity.

Avoid astrology content creators who use their blog/profile as a space to boast and compliment themselves –

because it also happens often, and it's usually a combo with the previous one I mentioned above. They shit on everyone else, but the placements they love and praise are ~ coincidentally ~ their own.

If you see a take that starts with defending or praising a placement a lot and it is followed by "because we are...", I'd immediately log off.

It's one thing to speak from experience and empathize. It's another to be like "Virgos aren't judgemental, because I'm a Virgo and I'm the best person on the planet, you're the problem if we don't like you!"

Again, people who cannot be self aware should not be sharing advice or opinions on other people. They're attention seekers. And surprisingly, it's often NOT the people with Leo placements.

CAUTION WITH THIS ONE, as I'm making a broad observation that is not describing everyone, just a pattern I see often, but my perspective could be limited here –

like I said, from most problematic posts I've seen, and I've seen quite a few, it's not from people with the stereotypical "egotistic and self obsessed" signs, like Leo, or even other fire signs.

I've seen it most often happen with people over-praising their personal EARTH placements, and then attacking everyone else.

Which to me makes sense, because when an Earth placement is great, they're GREAT! But when they're not... Good luck convincing them that they are just a human being and aren't better than everybody else and always right. You'd have to be constantly hammering the cold harsh reality on their face 24/7 to keep them humble. (A job only fire sign placements are up to, bc they don't give a shit if you're offended, and don't get tired of having to fight to death).

Earth signs being preceded by fire signs means their need for validation and praise is often hidden from plain sight, but it's deep within them. And being opposed by water signs can mean falling into delusions of how they actually impact the outside world, often overestimating their value.

So if you mix that with the Earth practicality and pragmatism, it becomes very hard for them to see that they will not feel more in control if they criticize everyone else around. It's them judging themselves, but not knowing how to deal with that self-hatred, so they project it onto others. Just because one got a lot to say doesn't mean they should, nor that what they have to say is correct. People CAN be loud and wrong, and these types of folks over here on these posts often are.

The top 5 most judgemental and lacking self-awareness I've seen here on Tumblr are:

Virgo

Capricorn

Aquarius

Sagittarius

Taurus

Apply it to (rising, sun, moon, Mercury and Mars).

PS: This is very specific within the context of astrology content creators. I'm not saying all of the people from those signs and element are like that, or attacking them personally.

Women are not perfect. Men are not inherently bad –

so also be cautious of people who trash any type of men, regardless of their sign, planet or houses, but claim only the women of that sign are good.

Yes, we know that, systemically, our society is patriarcal and men's toxic behaviors tend to be encouraged, so it's not uncommon to run into issues with masculinity. Regardless of that, men are human beings. And so are women. Everyone has potential for good and bad inside them.

"Cancers - all the men are cheaters and manipulators! But the women are the sweetest people you will ever meet!"

No. Cancer when it's expressed in its most toxic side is highly manipulative and fake. Which is historically a "skill" used by women to survive in this world. So if you run into a "good Cancer man", he will be a light in your life. If you run into a "bad Cancer woman", that'll be even worse, because she will be a horrible person, all the while projecting an image of innocence and acting like she has no idea what you're talking about and is just a sweet victim.

(just look at Ariana Grande, for example, and her history of cheating on her partners with other men who were ALSO in committed relationships at the time, ever since she was 21, but she always tells her stories as if she's the one getting unfairly bullied and that people are making stuff up about her.

I'm not making personal judgements about her, because I don't know her personally. I'm just using her as an example of the same cheater-manipulator dynamic people attribute to all Cancer men, applied to a Cancer woman).

Use your critical thinking skills. Again, that's a projection. Specially if someone goes as far as making an extreme comment like "ALL MEN of the zodiac are trash"... That's clearly a lot of bitterness, hurt, and bad PERSONAL experiences, that they are now vomiting onto the internet.

Men and women are equally beautiful creatures, each dealing with their own sets of potential and challenges. Astrology doesn't pick and choose, and certainly does not care about hookup culture or the dissolution of human relationships in the 21st century.

Just because someone is talking about spiritual practices does not mean they are evolved –

anybody can talk about anything. That means nothing. Does not mean evolution. Does not mean maturity. Does not mean understanding. Does not mean knowledge. Does not mean awareness.

So don't think that just because someone has an astrology blog or they say they're an astrologer that means they are some evolved soul, wise beyond their years and with only good intentions. Oftentimes, people will obsess over analysing others to avoid taking a long hard look at themselves.

As I've given many examples here, many people can be using astrology to live out the most childish and troubled parts of their personalities and character. And instead of identifying those challenges in their chart – since they claim to be such fans of astrology – and working on them, they prefer to hop online and start pointing fingers at other people and their lives.

Now, let's also exercise our own empathy here and understand that sometimes those people themselves don't even realize their struggle. They're a human, after all. So it's up to you to curate what you consume and how you consume it. Don't discredit people's experience, but also, do a background check on the info before you internalize it, because a lot of the times people will be hurting you without realizing they're just looking for company in their sadness. They'll convince themselves they're helping.

Be conscious in YOUR OWN spiritual journey and learning. Know who YOU are. And then other people become helpers along your path, not the commanders of your destiny.

That is it, my dears. I hope this was clear to understand and it was helpful. Hopefully, it will aid in your understanding of things when you come across astrology posts online, leaving you less confused as to what is and isn't pertinent. And I hope it sends you on a path towards good and love.

Be well! ❤️

MASTER LIST

#astro notes #astro observations #astrology observations #astrology #natal chart #composite chart #synastry #astrology notes #astro community

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rafesbabyg1rl · 2 days ago

Text

The Watcher ~ Part One

Summary: Rafe Cameron x Reader, Stalker!Rafe x Pogue!Reader Reader's parents work late on Friday nights, which she spends alone. Except Reader hasn't been alone in a long time, not that she knows of at least. Rafe has watched you for years, he's very good at it. He has no plans of formally meeting you, as he's satisfied with the current arrangement. He likes it better when Reader doesn't know he's watching. But his idea of staying an anonymous stalker is ruined when reader catches him in her bedroom one Friday night. Rafe has to figure out how to fix his mistake before he loses the only thing that makes his life worth living.

Warnings: Rafe stalks reader...that's literally the entire plot. He's pretty pervy in this, I guess. Masturbation (Rafe) in front of unconscious reader, strong/vulgar language, somnophilia (I guess?), death threat(?). If I missed anything from this part that I should include in the warnings, please let me know!

Word Count: 5.9k

Author Note: My sneak peek got a few likes, so thank you if you liked it, y'all are the reason I'm finally posting this part! I'm not sure how I feel about this fic so far, I definitely have a habit of overly critiquing my own work and never being fully satisfied with it, but I'm trying to get over that. I don't have plans for this fic, it's just going in whatever direction I can think of as I write, so if you have any suggestions, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEE let me know, I'll write pretty much anything. This is my first work published on tumblr and the first thing I've written in years, so I hope it's at least readable, and maybe even a little enjoyable. If just one person enjoys this, then my mission is accomplished. Thank you, I hope you enjoy! And do NOT be shy to share feedback or give suggestions/requests. Again, thank you!

For those of you that DID read the sneak peek, a large portion of this part was included in the sneak peek, but I highly suggest reading it over in it's entirety. This draft has undergone several additional rounds of editing and I believe it is better than the version I published as a sneak peek.

One thing about humans is that we always want what we can’t have, especially when everyone else wants that same thing. It’s just something all humans do; but what happens when you already have more than you need and everything you could ever want? Well, almost everything. Rafe Cameron has more money than he could spend in his own lifetime, he can practically buy anything he wants. Except one thing, you.

At first he just thought you were pretty, but the more he saw you out in public the more and more he liked you. The way you’d talk or laugh when you were out with your friends…god, he could tell just how sweet you are. Too delicate for him to touch, like the wings of a butterfly or the petals of a flower. This is when he went from wanting you to needing you.

See, another thing about humans is that we admire things. And, admiration can easily turn into obsession. Everyone has been obsessed with something or someone at some point in life, it’s normal. Obsessions will come and go, like a cycle. You get obsessed with something, you get over it, and you let it go until a new obsession marks the beginning of the new cycle. But things are a bit different for Rafe, he has never gotten over anything like, ever. Not once has Rafe Cameron ever let anything in his life go. When Rafe wants something, when he needs something, he will do whatever it takes to get it. And oh, how he needs you.

Rafe’s fascination, his obsession with you has been going on for years. He won’t ever admit it, but his perfectly curated collection of your personal items in his closet proves just how bad he’s been obsessing over you. The first thing he had ever stolen from you was your drink, you had been at the same party and you left your red solo cup about three-quarters full. Nobody noticed anything when he casually picked up the cup and finished the rest of your beer, purposely lining his lips with where yours had touched the cup, which was perfectly marked by the lipstick you had been wearing. After you’d leave a restaurant, he’d take the straws from your drinks. Rafe eventually worked himself up to breaking into your house and stealing your things when nobody was home. And Rafe made sure to explore every single inch of your room. All of your favorite panties? Gone. He’d take everything, your shirts, bras, whatever he liked really. You had noticed things kept disappearing from your room, but you’d just think you misplaced it–whatever it may be, or left it in a bag somewhere. Rafe had a good system. He knows exactly how much and how often he can take from you.

Rafe knows he’s sick. He knows that it’s wrong to watch you from outside your bedroom window, that it’s wrong to follow you around in public, to purposely bump into you so you have to mutter a ‘sorry’ as you move around him. He just really, really needs you. And in Rafe’s twisted, dark, mess of a mind he believes this is the best way–the only way. He couldn’t treat you like every other girl, no, you were special. You were his and you just didn’t know it yet. Starting early on in his life, Rafe has always been neglected, always pushed into the shadow of his younger sister, Sarah. He’s been told he ruins everything, that everything he touches turns to ash. And you’re way too perfect to ruin. So, he follows you around like a creep, lurking from a distance. Of course you didn't know he’s been following you everywhere…he liked it better that way.

Rafe knew the line had already been crossed. Hell, the line had been crossed a long fucking time ago. He doesn’t care anymore, he needs you. Heaven is smelling like you; and not because you had left your scent on him, but because he had bought the same perfume as you. He needed to know what you smell like, how sweet you are…and how sweet you taste. Heaven is watching your chest rise and fall as you sleep peacefully in your bed. Heaven is you.

What Rafe has been doing to you for years could be defined as worship. Rafe was worshiping you. He’s your good boy; your loyal man and he was going to take care of you; protect you, even if you don’t know it yet. You’re what he lives for; you’re all that keeps him going, the only thing he cares about.

Since he’s been watching you for years, of course he knew your schedule. Of course he knew that on Fridays your parents work late at the local bar & grill that they own. This means you slept in your house by yourself practically every Friday night. So every Friday night, Rafe would sneak in through the back door that you always forget to lock. He just wants to check on you, he wants to see his pretty girl sleeping beautifully, he wants to know that his baby is okay. This is not a crime, it’s not a crime to care; he’s not insane, he’s just in love–if you could even call it that. How can it be wrong to protect what’s his? nOh, and god forbid anyone ever get in the way of his stalking routine, if anyone were to take you away from the inevitable path of meeting him…oh, the things he would do; whatever it takes.

One unforgettable Friday night, you fall asleep on your couch watching a rerun of one of your favorite shows. You enjoy being alone. If only you knew you haven’t been alone for a very long time. You’re woken up by sudden, loud noises coming from your bedroom, but you think maybe it’s just the cat, or maybe you didn’t shut your window. You get up from the couch and in several slow, cautious steps you tiptoe over to your room. When you enter your doorway, you’re immediately greeted by the sight of a tall and broad man standing in the center of your bedroom holding the last shirt you wore to his nose, breathing in your scent. The sight of all this makes you immediately freeze and stand motionless in your bedroom doorway, staring at him blankly.

Rafe doesn’t startle when he realizes you’ve caught him red-handed. Instead, quite the opposite actually. He’s actually a bit amused, relieved even; if you hadn’t caught him just now, he never would’ve been able to work up the nerve to finally talk to you. He didn’t want to have to be creepy about things between you two, but he couldn’t talk to you like a normal person. It’d be too unpredictable, too unknown. Meeting you like this…he has all of the control.

“There you are,” he grinned. “How beautiful…” The strangely offputting man gloated in your fear and it was obvious.

You take a step back from where you had been frozen. He takes a step forward. This cannot be happening, you think. Your brows furrow in hopelessness and defeat. Again, you freeze where you are standing, even more afraid to move now.

You feel like you’ve seen the man before, which you have, plenty of times; but he was careful to never have too big of an interaction, so that you couldn’t recognize his face. You have no clue that you’ve been and always will be his.

“W-wha…who are you? W-why are you in my house?” You try to keep your voice as strong as possible, but the way your words shake with trepidation betrays you.

The man takes a quick step forward, slowing to a stop and putting his hands up in mock surrender as you jump back. “Woah, woah, hey…calm down, alright?”, he chuckles when he sees the utter horror and complete fright in your eyes. His tone switches into one of a little more seriousness, “I'm not here to hurt you, you don't need to be so scared...”. If you didn’t feel like your only choice was to look him in the eyes, you might even believe him. But, you had no other option but to witness the animalistic spark in his eyes that lit up with each word he spoke. With each step he took, you took one further back—your heart dropped into your stomach at the sight of his cocky, twisted smile and the way he looked at you…like you’re a zebra grazing in your natural habitat and he’s the lion waiting to pounce and attack you in your own home.

“I just wanted to see you," he leaned up against your dresser, taking in the look on your face. His face almost instantly drops the predatory look and adopts one of mock concern, almost convincing enough to hide his amusement. “Hey, it's okay, baby, it’s okay…”

“Please,” you beg. “If you leave I won’t call the cops. I won’t tell.”

Rafe cocks his head and lets out a slow breath, as if he’s disappointed in your reaction; you aren’t supposed to want him to leave. “Hey, hey…I’m not gonna hurt you. Just listen to me…you don’t wanna have to call the cops at three in the morning,” he elaborated. He’s trying to be as convincing as he can because he cannot screw this up. Even so, he still can’t help his smile that only grows at the sight of your terrified face. He shakes the smirk off, adopting a serious expression once more. “Especially when the cops won't be able to do a damn thing.”

He continues to step closer to you with each word. He stops once his figure is looming over you, looking at you like a lion about to pounce on its prey. “You should really be more careful, sweetheart, leaving the back door open like that at this time of night, when you’re all alone…you never know who might be out there.” His voice is cold as he warns you about the dangers of the world; the dangers of himself.

“Who are you?” You repeated. The man looks so familiar but you just couldn’t quite place his face anywhere. You just need to know what he wants; who he is.

“That’s not important right now baby…we’re focused on you, yeah?” The man’s eyes widen, taking in every detail of your face; the only other times he’s seen you this close is when he watches you sleep.

You could feel his breath on your face as he spoke. The look in his eyes tells you to take another step back, but when your back collides with the wall you jump; there’s nowhere left for you to go and that was exactly how he wanted it. He wanted you like this alone, afraid, and cornered. He loved your fear. The man stares at you with a predatory look although aside from the darkness and lust in his eyes, you can see something else, but…what is it?

“W-what do you want?” You ask, keeping as calm as you can. Even though with every passing second the air gets thinner and thinner. Your stomach is in knots and your throat starts to close up. Not to mention the stinging tears in your eyes, threatening to fall at any given moment.

“Me?” he cocked an eyebrow, his eyes shamelessly roaming your body as he blew out a huff. “I just wanna have a little chat, that's all...” The unknown man takes another step towards you, invading your personal space, his tall frame towering over you as his bottom lip finds a home between his teeth. Rafe reaches up and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. “No need to be so scared, baby...”

“T-talk about what?” You have no idea what this man who you don’t know, could possibly want to talk about with you. Why is he acting like he knows you when you’re sure you’ve never even seen him before? Why is he…admiring you? No, that couldn’t be right. The mystery man is so confusing, all his twists and turns giving you whiplash.

“Ah, you see...” he responds, pausing to place his other hand on the wall behind you, almost trapping you in. You feel his hot breath against the sensitive skin of your face, burning you like hot steam. His breath was slow and steady. He was completely calm. He liked this. He gave you a genuine smirk, bringing his face closer to your ear. “It’s more of a proposition really…”

“What is it…?” You ask. Not out of curiosity because honestly, you’re too afraid to know. But because you figure things might, just might go better for you if you play along. He stayed silent for a moment—enjoying the look in your eyes and your erratic breathing.

“All this fear…all this trembling...” he trails off as he brings his hand up to your chin, his thumb slowly tracing the outline of your lower lip. “It's nice to finally meet you...” He chuckles and leans in so that his lips nearly touch your ear. “Will you stop shaking like that if I tell you what I want?” His thumb moves from your bottom lip and he tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear; he doesn’t want anything getting in the way of his view of your pretty face.“Hmmm?” he challenged. “Or will you still be shaking like a scared little puppy?”

“I-I don’t…” You stutter, not being able to speak or even think clearly with the way he’s glaring at you.

“Shhhh… ” he tutted, bringing his other hand from the wall to your lower back and drawing you even closer to him—until your body was almost flush against his, his touch surprisingly warm. “You're not answering my question,” he whispers your name as he runs his fingers through your hair, it’s softer than he’d imagined.

“Please just…” The tears were no longer threatening as they began to fall down your cheeks. “Please…” Hearing this man who you do not know, say your name, was probably the most frightening thing to happen to you yet.

“Shhh, stop that...” he calmly commanded when he saw the tears falling from your pretty eyes. Rafe's voice was soft but stern—he hated seeing you so distressed. His hand moved from your lower back to your chin, making you look up at him. “Hey it’s okay…it’s okay baby, no need for tears. I just wanna talk to you is all." You almost believe him for a moment with how sincere the glint in his eyes appeared. But you’ve picked up on his manipulative expressions.

“My parents will be home soon…” You vaguely remember your parents mentioning something about something and blah blah blah…they’re closing early tonight. You really hope it’s true and isn’t just a figment of your imagination; something your mind is making up so you don’t completely give up.

A cocky smile returned to his face as he let a small huff of amusement slip past his lips. He knew your parents were working late, just like every other Friday night. "Bullshit,” he chuckled. His hand moved back to your lower back, holding you against him. “It’s just you and me, pretty girl.” He grabs your waist and within the next second, you’re on your bed and he’s hovering over you. You can feel his hot breath in your ear, you can smell him, feel the excessive heat radiating from his body. He speaks quietly now, more serious than he’s been this entire time, “Don’t ever fuckin’ lie to me again. Got it?”

His words provoke a small whimper from you. How long has he been watching you? What’s he gonna do? What does he want to talk about? Your mind is filled with questions you’re too afraid to ask. “I-I’m not lying.” He leans down, his lips almost touching yours. Rafe’s eyes are looking straight into yours, admiring the complete and utter fear your eyes possess. He doesn’t want you to be scared of him. But fuck, does he love it.

“Oh yeah?” He mumbles as he presses his face into your hair, taking in your scent. He can’t believe he’s finally this close to you. He didn’t think it’d ever happen, and if you didn’t catch him tonight, it probably wouldn’t have. It’s meant to be, he thinks. “What did I tell you about lying, hm baby? I know you’re fuckin’ lyin’ to me, so you wanna try that again?”

Before your brain could muster up some bullshit response, the sound of the front door unlocking echoes through the hall and into your bedroom. Rafe holds his breath and puts his hand over your mouth, causing your eyes to widen as he leans to the side to glance down the hallway at the front door. “Shh…”, he whispers. You weren’t lying. Your parents came home from work early and they’re about to turn the doorknob and come inside the house. Rafe looks at you, the look in his eyes beyond unsettling. “Tell the cops…tell anyone, and I’ll come back and fuckin’ kill you, okay? This is our secret. Don’t make me come back and hurt you babe, I really, really don’t wanna have to do that, alright?”

He has to be bluffing, right? But, when you look up to meet his gaze, you can tell; you can tell he meant every single syllable that he spoke. It’s not like the cops would believe you if you said you had a stalker anyways, you’re a pogue. And cops never believe a pogue. Rafe doesn’t need a response from you, the fear in your eyes tells him all he needs to know.

Just before you hear the front door open, Rafe smirks at you. “We’re gonna have so much fun together baby.” Reluctantly, the disturbed man leans back and takes his hands away from you. Without another word, he walks over to your bedroom window and pushes it open. Before ducking to climb out, the large man looks back at you. Your breath hitches even further if that’s even possible.

“Goodnight puppy.” The outline of his smug grin is visible even in the darkness of your room. Just as you hear the quiet voices of your parents enter your house, the dark figure turns and exits your window. When the man is outside you sit up and rush over to shut and lock the window behind him.

With caution, Rafe watches as your mother comes to peek her head in your bedroom. She only lingers in your doorway long enough to see your dark shape laying in bed. Covered in blankets, you pretend to sleep, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to hold a casual conversation with your mother at the moment. And the last thing you want to do is raise any alarm. Not while he’s out there–whoever he is. Hot, salty tears fall from your eyes, wetting the soft skin of your cheeks. When she shuts the door, you let out a shaky breath, finally being able to breathe.But, you keep your eyes sealed shut. At least then you can’t see if the man is still watching you from outside your window. You lie awake for hours, how are you meant to go back to sleep after whatever the hell just happened? All you can do now is wait. Is he coming back? When will he come back? Who is he? Why does he want you? There’s a million different questions and worst scenarios circling around in your head. So, you just wait, it’s all you can do.

As you wait, the hours turn into days, days turning into a week as the next Friday approaches you; you spend your time worrying about having to be home alone again. There still had been no sign of him since your encounter last week, but you decide to stay the night at a friend’s house, not wanting to take the risk. The second Friday after you came face-to-face with your stalker, you get a friend to spend the night with you. And now, after four weeks of waiting there’s still no sign of the deranged man. Although, if you had no knowledge of him stalking you for years he clearly is good at staying hidden. As the fourth Friday approaches, you think over your options. You can go to a friend’s house or have a friend stay over, as you’ve been doing. But, you’re tired of waiting for something to happen. You’re sick of not feeling safe in your own home and of having to look over your shoulder at all times. You used to love being alone, and now it’s been weeks since you’ve spent any time to yourself. You’ve had enough. This Friday you’re not hiding, you’re done being a coward. You will not allow this creep to keep taking away everything you love; you won’t allow yourself to waste any more time worrying about that psycho. So, you stay at home by yourself. He’s not gonna show, right? He was just bluffing or on drugs or something, that’s what you convince yourself.

You pull back the fluffy comforter on your bed and climb in. You pull the covers up and completely over yourself, you used to do this as a little girl when you’d have a nightmare or you’re scared of the thunder or the monster in your closet. If the blanket could protect you when you were little it should work now…right? Well, maybe it’d still work if you had a nightmare, but logically, what is it gonna do against your stalker? But no matter how much you force yourself to believe that he’s not coming back, you still find yourself praying. You’ve never been very religious, but recently you pray to whoever will listen.

You had bought some sleeping pills from the store a few days after you discovered your secret stalker. They helped you sleep, since your brain hasn’t once stopped thinking about him since the whole fiasco. Reaching over, you pull out the drawer of your nightstand. You grab the bottle of pills, you swallow a couple dry and set the rest on your nightstand. The pills start to kick in quite sooner than usual, must be because you took double the amount…you’re gonna need them to fall asleep tonight. Your first night alone in weeks. In just a few short minutes, you’re out cold, buried underneath an absurd amount of pillows and blankets.

Rafe spent the past few weeks feeling overwrought after what he did. He feels wrong–a feeling he’s not used to experiencing. But it’s because he knows he’s ruined any chance he might’ve had with you. Before you caught him in your bedroom, he had a chance that you could meet him regularly and think he was just a normal guy. But now, all hopes of you ever thinking he’s ‘normal’ have been abandoned. He actually feels shame and…regret for his actions? He’s been seeing less and less of you, and it’s making him angry, so fucking angry. Your schedule has been relatively the same for the past years and now you’re switching it up? You’re hiding from him; running from him just like everyone else in his life. Maybe the things his family has been saying about him for most of his life is true; maybe everything he touches does turn to ash. God, why does he ruin everything?

You are the one thing, the only thing that Rafe did not want to ruin. You’re the one thing in his life that’s too perfect to ruin…too innocent. But, the damage has been done. He doesn't have many options left. He could leave you alone, but then he’d be weak for not sticking to his word and he can’t have you thinking he’s weak and that you have the power. He could go back, but then what would he do? There was absolutely no way in hell you’d seriously talk to him, and he didn’t want to force himself onto you. He really wanted you to need him back, you have to want it. But everything you do or say now will be out of fear, it’ll be you trying to stay alive. He wanted you to be desperate for him, not desperate to get rid of him. Either way, you’re never gonna forgive him; you’ll always hate him now. Since you’ll feel the same no matter what he does now, he decides that he just needs to see you, he needs to talk to you again. It’s been far too long since he’s been close to you. He can’t take another goddamn second without seeing his reason to live.

He hurries over to your house, parking an entire block away as usual. He makes sure no eyes are on him as he sneaks around to your backyard. Rafe tries peeking through the curtains that block your window to see if you were in bed or not, but he can’t get a good view. He needs to know if you’re home. He needs to see you.

Rafe sneaks around to the side of your house, checking all windows and doors in the process, but he has no such luck. But he doesn’t give up yet, he’ll get in, he’ll find a way. He tries the side door that leads into your garage. He lets out a giant breath of relief when the door clicks open. Once he’s inside the garage, he takes a quick glance around to analyze his surroundings and burn every inch of your house into his memory. When he finally enters your house, he takes his time to look around. Obviously Rafe knew you were a pogue–he knew everything about you, but you never really looked or acted like one. However, the inside of your home puts your life on display, making it very clear you’re a pogue.

You sleep soundly, only being interrupted by the occasional dream; completely unaware that your stalker is making his way down the hall and into your bedroom. Rafe opens the door quietly. Your room is dark like the rest of your house, but the moonlight shining through your thin curtains provides just enough light that he can see the outline of your sleeping body. Now that your presence has been confirmed, he feels like he can finally breathe and he lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

Before he became totally obsessed with you and he’d see you occasionally in public, you used to just make him horny. He’d catch a glimpse of your smile or hear the softness in the way you spoke, or the innocence in your sweet laugh and his dick would be hard within seconds. And when his obsession grew and he’d watch you more frequently, sex with other girls started not doing anything for him. He needed you…he needs you. When he actually started paying attention to the way you spoke, the way you acted, he fell in love–what he thinks is love anyways. Rafe realized you’re the sweetest, most pure person he’s ever known. He didn’t think people like you really existed. His discovery led him to watch you more closely, he started taking more risks just because he needed to find your flaw. There’s no way you’re actually this perfect, it has to be an act. Now, after years of watching you he can confidently say that you really are just that perfect. Rafe needs you for more than just getting off now, he needs your comfort, he needs the kindness that radiates off of you. Which is why he’s always trying to find a way to get closer to you, he needs to absorb your sweetness. But hes really done it now; he’s fucked up big time. You hate him.

He hadn’t realized that the hate he brought upon you would tint the kindness that radiates for your being. He has to get you to let go of the hate he’s caused you, he needs you to be yourself again. He just doesn't know how, if it’s even possible.

As you sleep soundly, his large frame towers over you as he stares down at you through the darkness. You look so peaceful, so innocent. It physically pains him to know that he’s taken away parts of your innocence. All he can do is stare at you as he mentally curses himself. He can’t wake you up and ruin your small moment of peace. It’s better if you don’t know he’s there.

Your stalker slowly raises his hand and uses his thumb and pointer finger to pull your blanket down to your knees. Even with the blankets pulled down most of your body was hidden from him. Almost everything is left to the imagination in the loose, patterned pj pants and the oversized, long sleeve shirt that you’re wearing. He can only see a small portion of your lower stomach due to your shirt slightly riding up. And that small bit of skin is enough to trigger his memories of you. Because of course he’s seen you countless times; he’s got your body memorized.

He’s practically panting as he takes in the sight of you, imagining that you’re unclothed beneath him; his memory is sharp enough to almost see it. His cock grows to press against his jeans and his eyes trail up to your beautiful face. The ache in his needy cock starts to become unbearable. Your name slips past his lips in the form of a mumble when he starts to palm himself through his newly tightened jeans.

Okay, Rafe has definitely jerked off to the thought of you, your smell…everything about you makes him lose whatever control he ever even had to begin with. Something he hasn’t gotten to do yet is jerk off with you right in front of him as a live viewing source, fresh for his eyes. He’s gonna be able to cross that off the bucket list soon enough; he can’t wait any longer. His hand stops its ministrations over his jeans as his head turns and he moves over to your closet, grabbing a pair of delicate, worn panties from the top of your laundry hamper. He brings the treasure up to his nose to smell you. God, he could cream his fucking pants right now. He quietly walks back over to you, taking a look at the pill bottle on your nightstand. He picks it up with his free hand, eyes quickly scanning over the label. He smirks as he sets it back down. Rafe turns his head to look back at you. His smirk grows even wider as he leans back, cocking his head as he observes you. Yeah, you’re definitely gonna be out for a while.

With his pants and boxers around his ankles, he stands over you. Your panties between his hand and his cock as his fist slowly pumps up and down his length. His other hand meticulously pulls your shirt up to reveal your chest.

“Fuckkk…” he whispers under his breath as his bottom lip is held captive between his teeth. Your perfect tits are spilling out of your bra as you lie asleep on your back. He lightly fiddles with the ends of your hair as his hand pumps over his dick repeatedly and without rhythm. He takes his time, Rafe never likes to rush this. Especially not with you.

Your subconscious mind reacts to his light touch and sounds, pulling you into a wet dream; seeing as a main side effect of the medication you took was vivid dreams. You’ve also been unusually horny lately, probably because you’d been too afraid to touch yourself when you thought you were being watched twenty-four/seven. His fingers trail up your stomach and into the valley of your breasts with feather light touch.

You stir a bit, not because you felt him, but because the dream you’ve been thrown into by your subconscious is starting to get your body all worked up. You’ve been extra horny recently and keep having sex dreams since you haven’t been able to touch yourself the past few weeks, having a stalker and all. As he leans down to lightly kiss the skin in between your boobs, a moan slips past his lips, vibrating off of your skin and interrupting the mostly silent room. The only other sound that can be heard in the quiet room is that caused by Rafe’s hand quickly moving up and down his cock; the friction caused by the soft fabric of your panties generates a quiet noise. Pre-cum leaks from his slit and seeps into the fabric of your recently worn panties. He leans back down to create a hickey on your chest and hopes that you won’t wake up from the sudden feeling, although if you did that might be even better. Shaking the selfish thought out of his head, he sucks strongly at the smooth skin between your beautiful tits. He pulls his mouth off with a pop! Leaning back to see the mark he left, he smirks knowing you’ll see it too eventually. The already rhythmless movements of his hand gets even more erratic the closer he gets to reaching his orgasm.

The man standing above you runs his hand back down your chest and abdomen as you sleep. Completely unaware of what's happening to your physical body right now, you begin to get all wrapped up in your dream. You only ever get sex dreams when you’re so overly horny, which you’ve been the past few weeks. That combined with the sleeping medication you took, made this particular dream feel different; it felt so…real. The only dream-like part about it was that you couldn’t see the man's face for whatever reason.

While you’re in a deep sleep, you involuntarily let out a needy whine as your active mind plays games with you. When Rafe hears you he thinks he imagined it, until he hears you do it again. He wonders if you could feel him, except he’s not even touching you right now. Realizing that's clearly not the reason, he furrows his brows in confusion. He pulls the duvet cover completely off of you to reveal the way you keep periodically squirming as your body searches for the same feeling your mind is experiencing; and the way your toes tighten up and curl as you’re tricked into thinking you feel pleasure.

He can’t take it, not when you look like this. The man hovering over your unconscious figure lets out a lewd moan that corrupts the silence as hot strings of his cum spurt out of the pink, glistening tip of his cock and onto the pair of your panties that he's got clenched in his fist, immediately soaking into the fabric. Surprisingly, when he gets through his orgasm, he adoringly covers you back up with your blankets and leaves your house, locking the door he entered through to be sure you were safe. He got enough to satisfy him for now as he works on a plan to change the way you think of him. He’ll be back for more of you soon enough. He has to fix this; the biggest mistake he’s ever made and the only regret he’ll ever carry.

To be continued...

Thank you for reading! I hope this was enjoyable and not a waste of time. I spent a lot of time on this part, especially with the editing since I never really feel done with anything. If you have literally ANY feedback, questions, or suggestions, PLEASE feel free to let me know! I don't really have any solid plans for this fic so if you have any ideas I just might include them, there's not much I won't write!

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foone · 1 day ago

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Mostly, but not exactly. I accidentally infodumped about one of my favorite hobbies.

Besides the parts that are made by, you know, the game companies... there's a couple generators where someone else made them and sent me the code+assets. Like the Street Fighter 2 generator and the Mortal Kombat generator.

And in a few cases people made part of a generator, and in different ways!

The Sonic 1 generator wouldn't really exist without someone drawing a few extra letters: the original game doesn't have all the letters in its font, because they only drew the letters they needed for the level named. Some letters aren't in those! They don't use JQVWX, so if the generator wanted to be able to show those letters, someone had to draw them. Sometimes it's easy enough to extend a letter or two if I can easily edit them (like turn an B into a D: erase the cross beam and flatten out the middle curves), but other people with more artist skill than me have made extra letters to make the generator possible.

The other way other people have contributed is in drawing alternative versions of game screenshots. Like for the Castlevania: Symphony of the Night generator, you can make it Christmas, Bernie Sanders, or Nacho Libre themed, because someone drew it and let me include it.

And the graphical design of some elements of the site wasn't all me: the original navigation was horrible and all mine, someone else cleaned it up to make it not look like shit, and then I've slowly been replacing their UI now that I've needed to upgrade the UI.

But all the main code and the majority of the generators are just me. It's a surprisingly big project because I've lucked into a setup where it's easy to periodically add more bits into it and those are always relatively short projects with a wide variety of approaches.

And I'm not kidding about variety: some generators are "take a few screenshots and wire up some json config", while others are "take 20,000 screenshots by automating an enumator" and a few Extra Fun Ones are "use NSA tools to decompile a Nintendo DS game (damn you Cory in the House!)".

But yeah, It keeps my ADHD-brain happy, and it's a fun thing to be able to pick up and work on whenever I've got some free time. It's an eternal hobby project: it can never be done, but it is always fun to work on.

And I've been working on it long enough that it's like, what, 350 generators? That's about one a week going back to 2018 (I should graph how the number of generators/month has changed over that time... I'm curious what the shape is! It's not flat and it's slowed off as I've done a lot of low hanging fruit games (like NES games: almost always easy. So simple to do I've written semi-satirical tutorials on how to make one(as I made one in protest after some far more modern game was proving a tough nut to crack and frustrating me)))

Anyway... I'm always looking for game suggestions to do, a lot of the games in the generator are there because someone @'ed me and was like "hey this would be fun as a generator" and I looked it up and made it.

I've been pretty slow with that recently (currently mostly bedridden! If you'd like to help) but I'm still trying to do them as I can. Too much fun not to.

Which is really the charm of this project to me: I've managed to make it enough fun for me to make, that I'm already pretty happy just making generators for me. The fact that other people enjoy it is a bonus! But it's a very nice bonus, it must be said.

Thanks to everyone who's enjoyed it!

On a lighter note: around 4 years ago I found a site that would allow people to easily make fake video game screenshots. Then I forgot what it was called (it has a really weird name).

Well… I final found it again:D

No fe game has been implemented yet, but have fun: https://deathgenerator.com/#gallery

My own fake screenshots under the cut

#Death generator

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elainsgirl · 1 day ago

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you know, im actually tired of azriel's bonus chapter being talked 24/7 like its the most major thing ever. I never seen people get worked up on a bonus chapter that didnt even happen at the end of the book! acosf is the reason why this fandom is so toxic!

Hey anon 🫶

I definitely agree. Bonuses aren’t meant to be given such significance as Azriel’s bonus is given. At this point, His bonus seems to be more important then the foreshadowing in ACOSF it self.

“The shadows were ready to strike Nesta when she insulted Elain during their fight? Doesn’t matter because In Azriel’s bonus they disappear therefore that’s the only proof I need to claim that they absolutely despise and fear her 🥸”

Its a BONUS chapter, that too it was only part of a limited special edition. Let’s be realistic for a second - if someone hadn’t posted it online for everyone to see, those of us who hadn’t brought the SE, we would not know the contents of the bonus. If someone hadn’t kept up with SJM and JUST picked up acosf after reading acotar but is unaware of any bonuses, they too would not know about what occurred in Azriel’s bonus, why? Because its information that is not required to know. Its just an EXTRA. That confirms some suspicions in SF. I can go into detail to prove the irrelevancy of the bonus but ACOSF already tells you everything you need to know for the next book. I hadn’t read Azriel’s bonus until two years ago. Before reading it - elriel, much like Nessian, were blatantly obvious. After reading it? Elriel is still endgame. The reason the bonus is so talked about is due to the fact an entire ship relies on it. Gwynriel’s do not have anything in acosf to prove their ship, its just a bunch of out of context scenes and dialogues that aren’t in any way romantic or foreshadowing. Add in the bonus and GA have something to grasp onto even though it contradicts the book and well…the bonus itself lmfao. Then you have eluciens using the bonus as some concrete proof elriel is toxic and a future abusive relationship. That Azriel is an incel who only wants Elain superficially and Elain is just a little, clueless child who walks around lying to people about what she wants.

Antis CLUTCH onto the bonus as most of their arguments and claims use it as “proof” for whatever anti elriel bs they want to spread. But their points only make sense with the bonus, not without which tells you all you need to know about how valid their arguments are.

Feysands bonus is not talked about bcs it easily disproves gwynriel/elucien. Wings and Ember is only used as a way to show how “toxic” Cassian is otherwise its kept under wraps bcs once again, it disproves antis takes. If you had something that dismissed your entire ships within a couple of lines - ofc you’d avoid it like the plague. Its only Azriels bonus that can give them some hope that their worst nightmare won’t come true. That too, the hope is given after they twist and turn the scenes to fit their narratives.

It’s so important to understand elriels bonus sorry, Azriel’s bonus happens during acosf and not after. Its not the end of the book, after the bonus - there is no change or shift in the dynamic between Gwyn and Azriel. They remain as your usual mentor/mentoree duo. Even more important to remember is in regards to Gwynriel, nothing in the bonus is mentioned. Not their session, not the “spark”, not the necklace. Absolutely nothing. Why? Because it is irrelevant. Yet we get told about Azriel’s mood being off which relates to the elriel part of the bonus directly paralleling Cassian after his bonus w Nesta. Because THAT is relevant.

YEP. The fandom was toxic pre-acosf but it’s nothing compared to now. Unless you’re surrounding yourself with content you like and want to see - you can’t just enjoy general fandom spaces anymore.

Acosf brought up:

Anti Feysand agenda

Nesta vs inner circle

critique of the IC

Pro Tamlin apologists to the point of invalidating Feyre’s trauma

The infamous ship war

Anti Nessian vs pro Nesris

Readers opinion being pushed more then Authors intent.

I hope after Elains book - the fandom goes back to being semi-toxic again and more tolerable/enjoyable then it is now.

#Sidenote: i was happy to receive a genuine ask & not the asks the stupid trolls have been sending for the past few days 😭#elriel #pro elriel #azriel acosf #azriel bonus chapter

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istharoth · 3 days ago

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In love with a 2-D Character?! Obscuary Edition!

Blurb: In which you are a character in a popular game the Tokyo debunker boys are coincidentally in love with.

Edward Hart

Granted his favourite character was not part of the selection when the game was first released, he chose Romeo's favourite character.

Why? Because he's seen one (1) fanart of you and Romeo's favourite character looked similar to you.

ABSOLUTELY LOVES YOU, you're so. You're hilarious, he absolutely gets everything you do.

Fandom-wise, he's pretty lax about everything, even in-game farming.

He cannot access the next chapter? Oh well, YouTube it is.

But he's a whale. Uses the Obscuary bar profits to pull on your banner

Gets you maxed out!!

He's the biggest fan of everything fandom. Fanfiction, videos, art, edits. Everything.

He even enjoys watching character discourse because it's amusing.

Isn't addicted to the game, just addicted to hearing your voice.

Has Rui and Lyca go to comic-cons to buy merch of you. Probably has used super-chats on your va if they stream.

He just wants to show his support

(Too much support that the va has made a specific message for him in your voice.)

Probably the biggest supporter of rps too, he enjoys all the headcanons

Rui Mizuki

Sweet sweet Rui, he doesn't usually play otome games. (he's going into this thinking it's an otome game.)

Is kinda disappointed he can't vr it out

Does not choose you as his first choice, chose the first character on screen because he accidentally pressed them

laments it after meeting you in Chapter 1! Your banners take way too long and he has horrendous luck

Your SR won't come home, it's one thing but why won't your R card come home either!? (This is me ranting. Rui come home :<)

Is the victim of many lost 50/50 + banner ending when he needed one more 10 pull for a guaranteed character.

Drinks made after you are an absolute must.

Is the kind of person who is very active in a fandom then just disappears for a while and becomes very active again.

YEAH during that activity, he's leaving kudos/comments on every fanfiction. Maybe he's even writing a few, but won't post them. They're for his own eyes + i feel he's very cautious about showing his art.

Because art essentially is a part of you, and even the drinks he creates are all carefully catered to someone's tastes. Similar to his writing and art, he's just not very keen on showing it.

Re-reads his own work though, just to giggle about it.

Lyca Colt

Omg, wait, he's a bit confused about the entire game, the rhythm game especially but he gets the hang of it.

Gets pouty when he can't do a mission, and that stops him from continuing to read the story.

But! Anyways, onto you.

Likes your design + thinks you're kinda cool.

(IS ABSOLUTELY FUCKING DEVASTATED WITH WHAT HAPPENS TO YOU IN THE STORY.)

Trad fanartist Lyca? Trad fanartist Lyca.

in cons, he's seeing them in the artist lane, he's getting sales made for your future banners. (Obscuary funds are an afterthought)

Also one of the "Pulls for everyone, doesn't really care who he gets but has a few characters he will avoid pulling.)

He's the type to get jealous when someone else likes you.

You know the "Please respect mine and Gojo's space, we're married and I don't like you shipping yourself with him," (Paraphrased) YEAH, that but not exactly like that. He's just keeping the jealously inside.

Probably really chill about the game. Doesn't really read fanfiction.

He just sees Rui or Ed read some, reads one passage, likes it and draws it out.

Prev [Hotarubi]

#tokyo debunker #istha fics #rui mizuki #edward hart #lyca colt #yall i fucked up on my midterm #atleast I'm done with them!!! (until early december finals...*sigh*)#istha rambles #that one time i said writing Venti is similar to writing Haku #but I was wrong #writing Venti is similar to writing Rui. (Those potentially empty shells who know the entire truth)#(but don't expand on it and deal with things quietly bc they don't want)#(Others to go through the same things as they do.)#(that's just one thing #I guess that applies to Haku too. anyway #hope you enjoy <3 #tdb

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saintl-y · 8 months ago

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Got blocked by someone because I had the same name as them...Is it wrong for me to be like- upset by that?

#Ramblin Bugg #it was someone I enjoyed the edits of too #I'm so confused #I don't understand #wehhhhhhh

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kairithemang0 · 7 months ago

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Really long sigh T’noy Caraxis

It’s too early for this

#starkid #Enjoy my shit editing #I was too lazy to make something that’s even slightly decent #hatchetfield #team starkid #tnoy karaxis #tinky #This is actually so dumb #Someone has made this joke before right??? Like I refuse to believe this hasn’t been done before

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roomba-mangga · 4 months ago

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thoughts on thistle and yaad's dynamic that i vomited in the tags of another post but will now try to articulate here: they're not actually family, or at least they shouldn't be. not in a conventional sense anyway. framing them as uncle and nephew (even in a non-literal, silly fantasy world way) rides more on technicality than anything concrete.

what i mean by this is yaad calls thistle by name and says he and delgal were raised "like" brothers. he talks about thistle like he's an outsider imposing himself into the melinis' space, and it's clear that thistle was never legitimized as a member of the family. for thistle's part, though we don't know how he would treat yaad pre-demon brainrot, it's safe to assume based on the way he punishes him—turning him into a doll—and how little is shown in the way of any sort of relationship between them that thistle only cares* about yaad as an extension of delgal (otherwise i'd expect something like kabru and milsiril, because it's not like another complicated interspecies family dynamic would be out of place, yet there's next to nothing on them even in bonus content, just their scant interactions in the main story).

in essence, they're strangers to one another. thistle's desperation to preserve the illusion of a family, a model where he doesn't even fit, was the snare they were caught in for the past thousand years of stasis. yaad-as-nephew is a prop to uphold that illusion, and thistle is playing a role he's unfit to play. in the context of post-canon interactions, attempting to reconstruct that facade would only be a reenactment of trauma for them both (in a deeply compelling way i'd love to watch unfold, tbh), as that "uncle and nephew" framing places thistle in an implicit position of power over someone he's already traumatized through misuse of authority in the past, a role which also perpetuates his adultification and yaad's infantilization in turn. it'd mostly be an obstacle to any real connection.

best to burn the melini family bridge, i think, and if there's still anything salvageable left in the rubble, let something different supplant it.

#not to say i don't enjoy when they're portrayed as a weird set of uncle and nephew - that's really fun too #i think their history and shared connection to delgal would be a key element to their dynamic no matter what #and it's something they would tryyyy to make work at some point. for lack of other options.#it's not smn i take too seriously either! but thinking about it for more than 2 minutes makes me go oh yikes #i do think they could be family - i'm a certified sucker and sap so i want them to be - but #growth means moving past that more conventional way of thinking of family #side note as someone with a large extended family i DO have uncles who are younger than me lmao #but i'm viewing the whole uncle + nephew thing with thistle and yaad more symbolically for the purposes of this #additional note the fantasy age-fuckery and power dynamics at play means thistle has been in an actual position of authority #over his younger family members like any older relative would be in spite of his being quite young and immature #so. no. don't try to be his uncle anymore. and he isn't your nephew. and oh god he isn't your dead brother let it go. stop with the labels #don't try to resurrect that corpse (< writing them trying to resurrect that corpse as we speak)#not sure if these tags are coherent pero basta lang. yaad and thistle stay complicated forever that's all i want #feel free to chime in or disagree as i'd like to crack into this like crispy lechon and my opinions are subject to change #roomba media #thistle #yaad #thistle & yaad #melinis #dunmeshi #dunmeshiposting #dunmeshi spoilers #thistle dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi #edit: changed some inaccurate wording in this one whew. english

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blusandbirds · 3 months ago

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eli moskowitz - "am i making you feel sick?"

#blu edits #cobra kai #eli hawk moskowitz #demetri alexopoulos #hawkmetri #binary boyfriends #binary brothers #sorry randomly got bonkers about their dynamic in my head again #i love when demetri is spiteful give him edge give him that streak of pettiness he's always been secretly proud of #hes 17 his only sources of true joy are schadenfreude and free food #he humiliated eli at that party and he enjoyed it and yea they make up but he gets his licks now bc he's owed and eli lets him bc he's owed #and eli's approach to redemption is all roll over puppy eyes im sorry i'll do anything 'just tell me im yours' like thatll make it better #like thats productive. but he cant build demetri a sparring deck out of this so if demetri says jump... if demetri says join my dojo...#and so demetri will run him through his paces ragged for penance but it doesnt make it better and he looks at hawk and still feels sick #(and yes he loves him ofc he loves eli but that just adds to his turning stomach every time he sees those eyes looking up at him like that)#(its worse bc its eli making him feel this. not hawk doing something evil but eli trying to do something good and demetri still feels sick)#(because who does that shit and then comes back belly up like letting demetri claw his guts out makes them even)#(because who can claim to love someone and still get a kick of satisfaction out of making eli bleed <- verbally emotionally metaphorically)#(not physically. never physically. obviously. that's eli's thing. and so demetri's a leg up on him.)#^ im promise im a fan of interpreting them where theyre happy too #this derailed from the edit #if ur for some reason reading this then however you first interpreted this is prolly correct. i went a little rogue here in the tags

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wall-eye · 5 months ago

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Spin the Wheel for a UC Player Character*

only has adult pcs and main feed arc characters. no minors, oneshot/stream, or backup characters or any npcs*

#unprepared casters #ive been seeing this around and i wanted to do this for uc too so.#everyone thank the wiki for having a list of the majority of these names this was made possible cause i just had to go down a list made by #someone else lmao #i made this during the npcrawl i just held off on posting it. enjoy!#edit i forgot that hot bix wasnt a pc just an npc. goopsies. im not going back to change it if you get bixelbong borple youre welcome

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witchboyjimin · 5 months ago

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omg I'm on a public train and i almost yelled over the writing prompt 😍

So my prompt is:

One of them calling the other out of the blue and starting the call with:

"Hi, um- I... This is really short notice and if you're not- that'd be absolutely fine but-". He stops to clear his throat, trying not to give away he's crying. "But if you're free, could you maybe... Could you come get me?"

OOOOOR the absolute classic that I go feral for

"Who did this to you?"

- cabin anon ✨ (sending love your way)

4.8k of hurt/comfort ft. urban werewolves, omega!jm and alpha!jk

tw: domestic violence, physical abuse, attempted sexual coercion

jimin's face is throbbing, the vision in his left eye almost entirely obstructed by his swelling skin. the world is blurry and he can taste blood on his tongue.

his lip's split.

he tentatively licks at the cut, wincing when the rest of his face pulses in protest. the ache that had dulled out in his side from the adrenaline pumping through his veins, pushing him to clear nearly twelve blocks in record time, rears its angry head and jimin slumps down against the brick wall he'd slammed into earlier, lungs burning ferociously in protest.

but more than the physical pain he's in, sheer, unadulterated panic grips him, his chest compressing tightly. jimin squeezes his eyes shut, a hand gripping at the fabric of his t-shirt. the world shrinks down to his bare feet, to the smell of blood that is distinctly not his own, to the sound of jimin's shaking breaths.

he can't breathe.

there's not enough air and jimin's fingers dig into brick, his legs giving out under him entirely until he's curling into himself. he needs to become smaller, needs to disappear, only then, only then --

he's going to die.

he can't -- he can't breathe.

every time he inhales, he finds his lungs too small to take in the air and terror like nothing he's ever felt before, has him pinned down by the throat.

just like -- just like hajoon had.

the scream tears out of him unbidden, echoing through the alleyway with a hollowed reverence. for a split second, his wolf takes over, and every single cell in jimin's body fights to keep him alive.

and then jimin sags, all the fight leaving his body at once.

his panicked, shortened breaths even out and the blood in his mouth is joined by the taste of asphalt and the stench of garbage.

he lets his forehead rest against the cool ground, too tired to pull himself up. it takes a moment, but his claws retract, pulling out of the broken asphalt that he's managed to tear through in his fear, his devastation.

his head is swimming with images. hajoon's face darkening in anger, his scent deepening with fury, his hands ready and prepared to tear right through jimin.

somehow he manages to sit up.

there's blood on his hands. it's not his own.

he reaches for the curve of his neck, pressing his palm against the spot hajoon had nearly sunk his teeth into. his hand comes back clean save for some dried blood, jimin's skin healing over quickly.

jimin sits there for a moment, blinking through the pandemonium of emotions swirling through him. at some point, his wolf had taken over, protecting him from an unwanted bond.

he remembers his claws sinking into hajoon's neck, tearing through tendon. blood had poured out, splashing into jimin's mouth and he'd shoved hajoon off of him, scrambling back and bolting out of the apartment. he hadn't looked back once, too focused on getting away. he has no idea if hajoon had given chase, if jimin had even left him in a state where he could.

the sound of a car driving by the alleyway has jimin looking up, noting in passing that there's blood on his t-shirt and on his jeans. he pushes himself to his feet, noting that the bottoms of his jeans have been torn up.

had he undergone a partial shift?

it feels like something outside of himself is guiding jimin to move, like he's watching himself step out of the alley from somewhere up above. his body doesn't feel like his own or maybe it's that jimin doesn't want to be grounded in the sadness he feels beginning to moor him to the spot.

he needs to move.

hajoon could easily track him down by scent. he can't stay here.

he realises he's run all the way over to the pack alpha's neighbourhood. namjoon's house is a few streets over, and jimin would be impressed with how far he's run if the exhaustion wasn't catching up to him so quickly.

his apartment is nearly halfway across town. rent is cheaper in the outer neighbourhoods and hajoon's job didn't pay him much. at least, that's what he always told jimin. the rest of the pack lived closer to namjoon's house as most packs did.

the street is mostly empty.

he keeps to the shadows, making his way to the house as stealthily as he can. the kim pack boasted a history nearly as old as korea's itself. they'd lived on this land since the days seoul was called namgyeong, their lineage tracking all the way back to the days of the three kingdoms.

as such, their house, tucked into one of seoul's most affluent neighbourhoods, is massive. jimin spots it when he turns into the right road, self-conscious of his disastrous appearance as he makes his way down to the front gates.

he probably looks like he's homeless and if a security guard from some other rich family's house spots him, they'll call the police on him or simply try to drag him out themselves.

it's as he stands in front of the gates that he remembers: namjoon's not in town. he's at some conference down in daegu which means that if seokjin, namjoon's mate, has also gone along, there might not be anyone at home to let jimin in.

unlike some members of the pack, jimin doesn't have a key to the house nor does he know the access code to get past the front gates.

he's the newest member of the pack, had only joined a year ago after a few years spent packless. jimin had run away from his own pack, tired of pack hierarchies and being forced to submit to shitty alphas that wanted nothing more than to pin jimin down and mount him.

he'd met namjoon at an art museum, his hackles rising when the alpha had stepped into the same room as him. jimin had beelined for the exit but namjoon had called after him so softly that jimin's wolf had nearly forced him down into submission, desperate to be near someone of his kind after years of isolation.

eventually namjoon's unending patience and kindness coupled with the creeping madness of being packless had convinced jimin that he needed to join a pack again. and by all accounts, jimin loved his new pack. maybe city wolves were different from the rural, more conservative pack he'd grown up around but there were no restrictions placed on how jimin could live, no expectations on what his 'place' among the pack was.

the kim pack just expected all members of the pack to attend a communal meal on saturdays. there were some thirty odd members, enough that namjoon's house would get a little cramped despite how large it was. still, jimin looked forward to time spent with his pack and he ended up spending a lot more than just saturdays with them.

and right now, he wanted nothing more than for his pack alpha and omega to gently scent him and tell him that everything would be okay, that he'd done the right thing to defend himself, that he had the right, at all, to say no to an alpha courting him.

the tears are already trailing down his face before he knows it, tremors beginning to shake through his body. the panic from earlier sweeps in as if it had never left and jimin swallows, his breathing turning shallow once more.

where would he go?

hajoon -- hajoon would find him and he would want revenge, he was so angry --

"jimin?"

the voice startles jimin out of his thoughts, his heart jumping in his chest as jimin twists around to look at a familiar face.

jeon jeongguk.

he's got a bag of something in his hand, his scent sweeping up to jimin, sweet vanilla, warm amber, and the hint of pear.

the surprise on jeongguk's face sharpens quickly into concern, the alpha taking a step closer. his hand reaches out, touch far gentler than jimin would have expected and nudges jimin's chin so that he's looking directly at him.

"what -- " jeongguk starts, the concern hardening into anger. his eyes sweep over jimin so quickly they're a blur, irises glowing red. the sweetness of his scent morphs into something ugly, something rotten.

jeongguk's gaze is sharp, his brows furrowed together. "who did this to you?"

jimin can't seem to answer.

actually, he can't stop crying. loud, hysterical sobs spill out of him so quickly that he hiccups through them, breath stuttering through him in an attempt to keep up.

jeongguk, to his credit, doesn't stand idly by. one moment jimin is bawling in front of the alpha, unable to parse together enough words to be of some use, to explain, and the next, jeongguk is scooping him up into his arms and carrying jimin into the pack house.

at some point, they make it into one of the living rooms. jeongguk sets jimin down on the couch, kneeling in front of him and jimin is clinging, he knows, but he can't pull himself away from jeongguk, his arms wrapped tightly around the alpha's neck, face buried into his black tank top.

a hand is rubbing soothing circles against his back, the other cradling the back of jimin's neck, giving it the occasional squeeze. it calms him down and he feels silly, needing the same comfort as a pup to quell down.

he still can't let go of jeongguk, so drained of all energy that the thought of having to sit upright, unsupported, feels equivalent to being told to move a mountain right now.

he wants to sleep.

"jimin." jeongguk says his name so tenderly, with so much concern that it settles over him like a blanket.

the irony isn't lost on him.

jeongguk doesn't like jimin.

he's never liked jimin, cold and aloof and unwilling to trust him. there have been plenty of incidents where jeongguk has made a disparaging comment, glaring at jimin to remind him that he didn't belong here, that he was an outsider.

the rest of the pack had been of mixed opinion when namjoon had first introduced jimin to them. wariness was expected but jeongguk's open hostility had been scary because while namjoon was the pack alpha, jeongguk was the most outwardly terrifying. he had this way of looking at a person that left them completely devoid of confidence, like they could never measure up or prove themselves to him. most people, it seemed, weren't good enough for jeon jeongguk.

and now here jimin was, clinging to the very werewolf he'd done his militant best to avoid on saturdays.

maybe that was it though. jeongguk had no interest in jimin, he didn't like him, so there was nothing he could possibly want from jimin. his kindness was surprising but it felt real and it came with no ulterior motives.

even if jeongguk didn't like him, he could maybe see that jimin needed help and jeongguk is a lot of things, but he's never turned his back on someone in need.

"jimin, hey, look at me," jeongguk murmurs, pushing up so that he can sit down next to jimin. it's strange to be on the receiving end of jeongguk's kindness; it's something he reserves only for his closest packmates, keeping a respectful distance from the others.

moving up onto the couch has allowed jeongguk to tug jimin back, enough that he can take a look at jimin's beaten face. his arm cradles jimin still, eyes flitting over jimin's injuries. "are you..."

his voice trails off, as if realising that whatever he was going to ask already had an answer. jimin can't really tell what's going on in his head, exhaustion whispering sweetly to him: give up, give in.

jeongguk's hand curls over jimin's cheek, his touch barely there as if afraid that he would injure him further. "how could anyone do this."

he says it more to himself than jimin, a steeliness returning to his eyes the longer he stares at jimin's swollen face.

hajoon had slapped him at first. the force of it had left jimin's ears ringing, his balance momentarily slipping. he'd barely straightened back out before the next blow had come. and then the next and then the next.

it wasn't the first time hajoon had slapped him. he always told jimin how sorry he was after, eyes wet with tears, sobbing about what a terrible alpha he was. for some reason, jimin always forgave him.

but today it had been different. jimin had told him no. they'd only been dating for six months and hajoon had asked jimin eagerly if jimin would spend his rut with him.

jimin can still feel the way his gut had clenched horribly at the idea. he'd immediately said no, head shaking, even going so far as to take a step back from hajoon. they'd fought, hajoon unable to understand why jimin couldn't do this for him. didn't jimin love hajoon? didn't he want hajoon to be happy?

a good omega, hajoon had screamed at him, spittle flying from his mouth, is supposed to spread his legs when he's told to.

before long the slaps turned into punches and jimin found himself pushed onto the floor, his vision swimming, with hajoon clambering on top of him, pining him to the ground. jimin had sobbed, hajoon's weight suffocating him, rendering jimin immobile. hajoon had been unrelenting, his words spilling out of him so fast, jimin could hardly keep him. he'd told jimin exactly what he thought of him, how he'd wasted hajoon's time, that jimin belonged to him now and that if he wasn't going to agree to hajoon's request willingly, hajoon would make him agree.

after all, a mated omega couldn't say no to their alpha.

"the swelling is going down," jeongguk tells him, a thumb ghosting over jimin's left brow. jimin's injuries would pretty much be gone by tomorrow -- both a gift and a curse.

hajoon had punched him once, angry about some wager he'd lost with his buddies and jimin had made the mistake of getting him the wrong beer. the bruise on his stomach had looked horrifying when jimin had stared at it in the mirror that night but by the next morning, it was gone.

and jimin had known then that there was no use telling anyone about this. who would believe an omega over an alpha? especially when jimin had no proof.

jeongguk is staring at him intently, taking in the blood on jimin's clothes and his hands. jimin can only tell he's furious because of the lingering acidity of his scent. he's managed to hold most of it back, the usual vanilla wrapping around jimin in an attempt to soothe but the aftertaste is there, jimin can smell it. he's always been good at picking up on the subtleties in others.

jeongguk's brows are furrowed again, his hands carefully going over all of jimin's injuries as if to tally them. he seems to see right through jimin, pausing at jimin's ribs, his hand splaying over the throbbing in his side.

"do you want me to call chungha? or taehyung?" he asks, watching jimin carefully.

jimin shakes his head. of course he'd like it if one of his friends were here but it was the middle of the night and jimin had already ruined jeongguk's night. he wasn't going to ruin anyone else's, too. "'s okay."

"you're finally talking."

jimin shrugs a shoulder.

"tell me what hurts the most," jeongguk instructs, slowly guiding jimin so he can lean against the back of the couch.

jimin almost answers with my heart.

"i think he broke my rib," jimin mumbles, touching the same spot jeongguk had paused at mere seconds ago. "it hurts more and more."

"so it was hajoon?" jeongguk seems to have pieced it all together himself, looking at jimin only for confirmation.

jimin nods, shame flooding through him. he was so pathetic.

jeongguk lets out a breath through his teeth, his eyes flashing red and it takes him a moment to reign himself in. he nods, just once, staring at jimin.

it's too much and jimin finds his eyes slipping shut. he can't meet jeongguk's gaze, doesn't think he could bear to see contempt there, not now.

"i'm sorry," he says, mouth dry. his head is throbbing, the pain like a wave ebbing out of him, constant and pulsing.

"for what?" jeongguk's voice has gotten quieter, a tinge of something jimin can't quite place creeping in. "what could you possibly be sorry for?"

jimin opens his mouth, winces when his jaw aches and then closes it, his eyes barely opening to see the downward tilt of jeongguk's mouth. he shrugs, unable to put into words the misery he's feeling. he's sorry for existing, for burdening jeongguk like this.

"this isn't -- what hajoon has done, that's not how you treat your omega," jeongguk says with absolutely no room for argument. "this isn't your fault. it could never be."

jimin's eyes burn, his throat closing up and he nods, gaze falling down onto his hands. jeongguk's scent seems to swarm around him, eager to comfort and console, and jimin fights back the urge to cry. he's already cried so much.

jeongguk holds still, uncertainty written in the way his frown deepens, how his shoulders seem to have tensed up. he reaches out, gently taking jimin's hand in his own. "it...it'll help you feel better if i scent you. may i?"

jimin's teeth clench, breath shuddering out of him. did he want to be scented?

his mother had always scented jimin when he was upset, her nose carefully rubbing over his scent glands. she would give him a kiss on each cheek when she was finished and all of jimin's anxiety would have melted away, forgotten.

but his mother was his family and jeongguk was...

jeongguk was pack. is pack.

jimin nods, ignoring the warning sign in his head screaming at him to never let another alpha anywhere near him.

jeongguk hovers for another second before nodding and he leans in, pausing just outside of jimin's personal space. he can probably feel the apprehension coming off of jimin in waves, his mind wishing he'd run away and his wolf begging for proximity, for his packmate's comfort.

jimin flinches when jeongguk finally closes the gap between them, his touch feather light. he pauses, giving jimin the opportunity to pull away but jimin just holds his breath.

jeongguk's nose trails along jimin's skin slowly, moving back and forth over the same expanse of skin. it's a deliberate choice, jimin can tell, the languid movement like he's afraid that jimin will spook if he moves too fast.

slowly, jimin relaxes. vanilla and amber wrap around him until jimin thinks he can taste them on his tongue. his mind starts to blank, the tension in his body beginning to seep out slowly. jeongguk's touch never waivers beyond light, delicate. namjoon always scented jimin much more deliberately, quick and easy, a reminder that jimin was his pack.

jeongguk scents jimin like he's something precious, the tip of his nose skimming over jimin's scent gland, never applying pressure. he's careful, jimin's hand still in his own and jimin can feel how sweaty both their palms are, finds it sticky but he's unwilling to let go.

at some point, jeongguk's other hand finds itself cradling the base of jimin's head, his large palm holding jimin in place. his fingers dig into jimin's neck, squeezing, grounding.

with every passing second, jimin unwinds. jeongguk's nose ghosts over his neck from one side to the other, gently swiping over jimin's scent glands. his touch tickles, feels barely there, and yet it settles jimin down better than anyone else's touch ever has.

jimin lets out a sigh, his eyes closed and the pain in his body quells down to something manageable. tomorrow, he wouldn't even feel the sharp jab in his abdomen or the pulsing in his face. tomorrow, he wouldn't have reminders of hajoon's violence all over him.

jeongguk pulls back, just as slow. jimin has a hard time opening his eyes, stares up at jeongguk through blurry vision. he's so close. jimin can see the little mole under his mouth.

"i'm going to call namjoon and tell him okay," jeongguk says, his hands falling away from jimin. he pulls away entirely, taking his sweet scent with him and the further away he gets, the worse jimin feels.

he feels like crying anew. this time from frustration. why should he need so much from another alpha? why couldn't he just comfort himself?

"but first, let's get you cleaned up." jeongguk shifts to stand up and jimin finds himself reaching out, his fingers scrabbling for some part of jeongguk to hold onto.

jeongguk pauses, looking down at the hand jimin's buried into the fabric of his cargo pants. "i'm right here, jimin. you're okay."

he must realise what jimin needs because he scoops jimin up again, carrying him in a bridal carry all the way upstairs. jimin slips in and out of consciousness, the panic that had become second nature finally giving him a moment's peace.

jeongguk brings him upstairs into a bedroom that smells distinctly like his scent. jimin's mind is floating, his wolf curling up inside of him, content to finally rest. it's hard for him to take anything in, to notice anything beyond the dark colour of the walls. but jeongguk's scent is so nice. jimin wishes he could float in a pool of it.

his wish is answered in another form.

jeongguk lays jimin down on his bed -- it must be his bed because the sheets are soaked through with his scent. embarrassingly, he buries his face into jeongguk's pillow, momentarily forgetting that the owner of the scent is right here in the room with him.

"i'm going to need to undress you jimin," jeongguk says, kneeling down by the bedside so he's not hovering over jimin. "is that okay?"

jimin's so tired but he shakes his head. "i can...i can do it."

jeongguk doesn't look convinced, his mouth pursing but he nods. "i'll get you something to wear."

jimin's not sure how he manages to sit up but he does, his arms like lead when he moves to take his t-shirt off. a sharp pain cuts into him, his rib most definitely broken, and jimin gasps, his breath coming out in short pants.

the t-shirt smells like hajoon and blood and the panic is quick to crawl back in, eager to sink its claws into jimin's heart. he tugs harder to get the shirt off, struggling to manage the movement.

before he hurts himself further, jeongguk is back at his side and patiently assisting him to remove the t-shirt. jimin blink when his head finally pops out, sucking in a deep breath.

jeongguk has placed some clothes down next to jimin and more importantly has a wet cloth in his hand. he doesn't seem annoyed that jimin had refused his help and then needed it.

instead, he brings the wet cloth up to jimin's face and wipes away dried blood, always catching jimin's eyes as he moves lower to make sure he's okay.

the cloth, once a bright shade of yellow, slowly turns brown. jimin is a little horrified at how quickly it discolours. just how much blood was on him?

"hajoon can't come here, right?" jimin asks, staring at the cloth and remembering how the blood had rained down on him, how jimin had swallowed some of it.

"he'd be pretty fucking stupid to come here," jeongguk answers, having moved to jimin's hands. he wipes across the backs of jimin's hands first before cleaning his palms and then the pads of jimin's fingers.

a shower would have been better but jimin doesn't think he could stand in one on his own right now and he might die of mortification if jeongguk had to help him.

"i'd fucking kill him," jeongguk adds, purposefully meeting jimin's eyes. his eyes are red again, his incisors elongated and jimin swallows, blinks, before jeongguk is back to his human self.

"what if...what if i did?" jimin says it so quietly he can barely even hear the words leave his own mouth. he keeps wondering why hajoon didn't give chase. the hajoon jimin knows would never have just let him get away.

"namjoon-hyung is heading back right now. i'll tell him to go by the apartment first, okay?" jeongguk doesn't even react, just continues to clean jimin up. when he's satisfied with his handiwork, he stands up and turns his gaze down to the clothes next to jimin. "go ahead and get changed."

the answer surprises jimin. shouldn't jeongguk be mad? if jimin...if jimin killed an alpha...

"pretty impressive if you did kill him," jeongguk adds, his mouth quirking up into a little smirk. "i didn't think you had that in you."

"i don't -- i, he was trying to bite me so i -- "

again, jeongguk's scent plummets, the sweetness putrefying instantly. his anger is palpable and jimin jerks back, whining instinctively to appease him.

"sorry," jeongguk grits out, eyes closing. jimin's amazed by how quickly he puts himself back together. gone are the red eyes, the sharpened teeth.

why was he so angry?

"i didn't mean to scare you." he steps away from jimin, the wet, ruined cloth still in his hand. there's a bitterness to his scent that still clings to him and he looks unhappy. "i'm just going to be outside the door, okay? take your time and if you need help, ask."

jimin nods meekly, admonished.

he can't quite move past how kind jeongguk has been. this is a side of him jimin has only caught glimpses of, a side reserved for the few pack members he held in the highest regard.

eventually, jimin manages to get out of his jeans, a much easier task. the clothes jeongguk has left for him are his own. his scent lingers on the fabric and jimin feels the heat rise to his cheeks, oddly pleased that the alpha was generous enough to lend them to jimin.

jeongguk's sweatpants are a little too long on jimin and he doesn't bother trying to put the t-shirt jeongguk's given him on. instead, he turns to the door and clears his throat. "jeongguk?"

"i'm here," jeongguk replies instantly.

"um, can you -- i, i need your help." embarrassment flushes through him but it'll be worse if he gets stuck trying to get the shirt on.

"coming," jeongguk answers, opening the door. jimin spots him slipping his phone into his pocket and worries his bottom lip between his teeth. the split from earlier already hurts a little less.

jeongguk had texted namjoon then because he hadn't heard him talking to anyone. eventually, jimin would have to explain all of this to namjoon and the thought makes his belly twist unhappily.

"should have helped you with this earlier," jeongguk mutters, more to himself than jimin. it slips past jimin's head a lot easier, a size or two too big because it drapes across jimin's smaller frame, leaving plenty on room to move around in.

"i don't know if you want any ointment for your wounds," jeongguk says, slipping jimin's right arm into the sleeve. it falls past jimin's elbow. "but i never really find it that helpful. i can get you some painkillers though, if you want."

"okay," jimin agrees, sitting back down on the bed. he feels anxious every time jeongguk leaves and then he feels stupid for being so needy.

jeongguk brings back the painkillers and a glass of water that jimin chugs down entirely. he hadn't realised he was so thirsty.

"we'll...we'll talk about what happened tomorrow. namjoon-hyung says he'll be here by seven, latest."

"hyung didn't -- "

"he's your pack alpha, so yes, he does." jeongguk's tone is stern, his eyes pinning jimin to the spot.

jimin nods, scolded, and wonders how it is that jeongguk can be so sure of things so easily. it's a three hour drive from daegu and namjoon is probably exhausted from a day spent in meetings with other pack alphas. the alarm clock on jeongguk's bedside table tells jimin it's almost two am.

"i'll stay here," jeongguk says, nudging jimin to lie down onto the bed. "you need to sleep."

he goes so far as to tuck jimin in, sitting down on the edge of the bed, next to jimin.

he wants to ask jeongguk, aren't you tired, too? but jimin's eyes are so heavy and jeongguk's scent is sweet and calming, washing over jimin like the first drizzles of spring rain.

he falls asleep quickly, a hand finding it's way to the hem of jeongguk's tank top, fingers curling in.

#cabin anon #fic #writing meme #kookmin #thank you for the prompt my love!!!!!!!#hopefully this is not too intense for u guys ejfndk #i may or may not expand this fic and maybe edit whats here eventually and post it to my ao3 we shall see #but i rly enjoyed writing this!#and i hope you guys like it :3 #pls excuse any typos and spelling mistakes....if someone wants to beta this for me i would love you...forever...

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