#seriously I think this post is what brought me back from the grave

[allyheart707]

YOU! OH MY GOSH! You are so amazing, woah! The amount of improvement in your art is INSANE and inspirational! I loved the first piece you made me so much, but MAN the second one is AMAZING! The posing, lighting and proportions of the characters are all improved 10 fold compared to the first- that's so cool! MAN! i freaking love seeing artists improve, and to see that improvement through fan art of a thing I MADE?!?! ;v;

As I improve my art, I always look back at fanart I’ve made for people. I know I can do so much better now than what I did for them at the time, so I occasionally like to ‘update’ my fanart! (As in redraw or draw new art with my current skillz)

That’s what this drawing is, a current update for @allyheart707 and her wonderful fanfic because I think it deserves so much better art than what I could draw at the time!!!

The first drawing (2023):

Now, one year later… the updated drawing!!

I hope you like it Ally!!!! I noticed I didn’t even draw them in their right outfits the first time XD

EVERYONE, PLEASE GO READ EVEN DEAD HE PROVES ME WRONG!!!! ITS SO GOOD!!!!!!

Close ups on some details and alt versions under the cut!!

Details:

His freckles and cloudy post invasion eye

Lil face spot similar to LS Mikey bc I love it and his Ninpo scars

If you click on the image and squint I DID draw his scars as well! Bc you (Ally) said you’d have to be close to actually see the scars :D

Also added Raph’s shell scar

Alt versions:

One with no glow (left) one with glow but no dark squiggles on the edges (right)

[mysweetgirl2-love]

less than tactical touch

prompt 1: hand holding

well wELL WELL!!! Look who's back at it again. Oh? What's this, you ask? Well, nothing really... just my attempt, yet again, at posting for Writingtober, or whatever. SFW Kinktober, if you will.

Yes, I'm so very behind. No, I will not catch up. You can partially count these prompts for NanoWriMo. They're definitely not being finished during the month of October. but!!! here's the first one.

it's Ghost. Yes. What about it? This year, I'm also doing something a little different in that I'm only going to be writing characters I want to write instead of randomizing a few of my favs amongst fan favs. It'll just make the writing process for me easier.

either way!! without further ado, here's a bit of touch starved ghost to kick these prompts off! I hope you enjoy :)!

Word Count: 1.7 k

The rescue went as smoothly as it could, but the rebound is showing its taxing nature. You’re incredibly tired, but Kate brought you out here to do your job. With all that's come to light in the past twelve hours— you were grateful to be on this side of things.

Finding out what happened to Ghost and Soap seriously gutted you. Hearing the report by word of mouth when Kate and Captain John Price found out what Graves and Shepard had attempted to do with Ghost, Soap, and Los Vaqueros… it makes your blood boil thinking about it now.

Laswell had told you to ‘pack your shit together’ as soon as she’d heard word from Price that they’d been successful with extracting the boys from Grave’s personal prison. That’s what you could only describe it as, the stupidity of it all. They were out and heading to a base where, apparently, you had been requested to appear at too.

You didn’t need a hint to know who had requested your being there in the first place. So, following Laswell’s directions, you quite literally packed your shit together as quickly as possible, got in a car, and you were off to the safe house.

Here, feet imprinting into the dirt floor of this other warehouse for Los Vaqueros, you weren’t waiting more than a couple of minutes before the vans arrived. The one leading holds Alejandro and the majority of his men, the next van is the one Rudy hops out of. They barely recognize your person, or don’t fully acknowledge that it’s you. Rudy might’ve lightly waved, but you weren’t sure. There was an understanding amongst everyone— the circumstances existed. There was no changing that, or them, there was going forward with them. Stakes were just different, seriously for better or for worse. 

The third truck pulled up as you pushed forward to take a peek outside, observing the unfolding chaos already emitting from the first two cars. It slowed to an easy halt next to the first two vehicles, and the doors kicked out. The team members of 141 all immediately begin to pile out. Price fronts the group as always, but instead of his approachable demeanor from when you’d first met him, you swear there’s almost steam emitting from his head he’s so pissed. Gaz is behind him, slamming the truck door shut and starting to march into place behind the leader before he scans his surroundings and finds you.

Kyle’s demeanor shifts entirely, the glare shifts into something softer. He’s approaching you before he can think twice, and you’re grateful that someone like him is also present through all of this.

“Hey…” he sighs, sounding too tired. “When’d you get here?”

“Couple minutes ago.” You reply simply, tilting your head on its side. “… Is everything okay? What happened with you guys?”

Gaz is back to looking uneasy, and he averts his eyes toward the floor, “…Well—“ 

“It was fuckin’ Graves.” The Scottish accent angrily hisses on the other side of your head, you alarmingly turn to address it. Soap is marching on, following after Price. “Graves and Shepard, to be exact. The fuckin’ twats tried to kill us.”

“How?” You turn back to Gaz, seeing that Soap wasn’t going to stay and chat details.

“He—“

“He tried murderin’ us, that’s what.” 

You barely have time to process what’s just been spoken in your direction, and your eyes are bulging wide as the six-foot-three soldier comes marching up to you and Kyle— promptly pulling you off by your arm. The only heads-up being the singular statement.

“Uh? Ah?” You start to vocalize— Gaz only helplessly watches as the large, skull-faced soldier drags you away by your upper arm. And you’re fumbling with coming up with something to say. How to interject, get him to stop. But he’s so much bigger than you, and Gaz is nowhere near his stature either. 

You both watch each other as it happens, Gaz helplessly sending a single wave in your direction before turning off to follow his captain who was barking orders to get a handle on the situation. You want to be in that conversation, not dragged away and hidden which seemed to always be the goal of Ghost whenever you were both present at debriefings.

“Stop stalling,” Ghost growls, pulling your closer, “I know you can walk faster than that.”

“I— sure? But— Simon.” You pull against his grasp, and it’s very clearly not going to do anything. His fingers were still pressing marks into your wrist, a reassuring soreness. “Simon. Please?”

Your voice is softer than you expect, and it must catch him by surprise too. He let’s go, turning back and peering down at you through the eye-sockets of his skull mask. The dark eyes shadowed by the black face paint, it always captivates you in so many ways. This time, it is tender. He’s really seeing you, and you can’t grasp entirely why.

“I wasn’t there, and I’m now here. You’re here, you made it back, nothing’s happening right in this moment.” Gently, you reach your own hand in his direction. Brushing your fingers over the space in-between his tactical gear. The long sleeve is thick, but it’s warm from him, and the moment is suddenly careful. “We’re okay.”

Simon never looks away while you stay focused on his arms, and the silence isn’t anything new. He’s typically quiet, everyone knew this, but the presence in his stare holds a weight in your chest. It compels you to look back, the warmth in his stare all the more evident. It holds you there, it closes you off from the rest of the warehouse and makes it your moment together.

“…I can’t let you out of my sight.” Simon’s hand reaches for his glove, he’s ripping at the velcro and pulling the item from his palm. His veined hand stretches out once free, and it’s reaching for your bare palm as well. “It was you, in the back of my mind. Last night…”

“Simon…” you murmur, letting him take up your hand and delicately turn it over so your palm faces the ceiling. His fingers, weightless, brush over the creases in your palm. It tickles, and you sadly smile. “I’m right here. Shepard was never in contact with me.”

Reaching the edge of your palm, his hand finally clasps around your own. His touch is forever warm, and reassuring, and your heart feels like it might as well leap out of your throat. Physical touch is rare with Simon, and this isn’t the first time he’s been soft with you… but, it’s not just you two alone. There are Vaqueros, and 141, and no one’s actively paying attention, but you know that they’re there. And he knows it too. So why—

“I don’t care,” he squeezes your hand tightly, “You weren’t with me.”

“I was with Laswell.” You meekly reply, like it will help whatever turmoil Simon is feeling over the fact he was away from you. 

Ghost’s head shakes in displaying Laswell wasn’t enough. He takes you in by your hand, and suddenly the towering man envelops your waist in one arm. He still holds tight to your hand, your grasps carefully remaining between your chests. You can feel your heart beating lightly against your knuckles, Ghost’s gear swallows his heartbeat in full. But he’s breathing, his shoulders are gently rising and falling with that much evidence.

Lightly closing your eyes, you press your forehead against the front of his jacket. Plastic straps slightly dig back against your skin, and his hand snakes up to gently lay against the back of your skull.

“I’m here now?” You offer softly.

“Hah,” his laugh is humorless, but the sound makes you smile. A pathetic, maybe grateful smile.

His hand squeezes against yours again, and it’s only then when your eyes sting. You both were here, and the weight of it presses down on your shoulders with a newfound emotion. It’s almost unexpected, how the sadness wells up and hits you in your sinuses. He’d clearly been prepared for the worst when he you couldn’t recognize it until now. The degree of what happened… what is now going to happen with handling the Shadows and Shepard. Moments like these were few and far between, no wonder it’s happening all like this suddenly. 

Who knew when there would be time to have another moment like this. Caresses and whispers and warmth. It’s all too fleeting, and before one of you can highlight that, there’s a call from a few feet away.

“Ghost.” It’s Soap, and as you turn to look at the man who’s tone resonates with you, the shorter Scottish man frowns further. “C’mon. Price got Shepard on the line. You should listen in.”

He doesn’t wait for a reply, instead walks back in the direction from which he came. Simon is still protectively wrapped around you, and evermore slowly he begins to unravel.

His accent utters your name softly, and you reach up to place a quiet hand reassuringly on his shoulder.

“I’ll still be here when all is said and done. We are going to make it out of this together. Okay?”

You’re holding his worrisome stare, and though he looks nervous, your words make sense to him. He softly nods, leaning in and managing to angle the tip of his chin so he could press his lips through the fabric of his ski mask and lightly kiss you on your forehead. 

After a brief pause, he completely pulls away. Turning back in to the Special Force member he knew was expected of him. “Right, I’ll be off then. See what Shepard has to say for himself. In the meantime—“

Simon turns back towards you to which you hold out your hand. As if to pace him. “I’ll be right there as soon as your done. Don’t worry.”

He nods again, turning forward and marching on. “Yeah. You better be, otherwise it’ll really turn into a shit show around here too.”

You snicker softly at the man’s stubbornness, but don’t say anything more. You don’t need to imagine the result of his frustrations if that was how he was going to act as soon as he laid eyes on you just moments before.

Instead of waiting around, you pull out your phone. Opening your messages with Laswell, you give her the update… 

Made it, safe and sound. You made a good point on why I should be here. Someone’s happy to see me.

Laswell: Good to hear. I knew he would be. I hate to say I told you so, but… well. I definitely told you so.

You don’t hate it.

Laswell: You’re right. I don’t :)

[theearlgreymage]

New Year. Same Projects. What a Shock.

Anyways.

I've been tippy-tapping away on my keyboard. Occasionally getting help from one of my cats who think that they can type on my keyboard. (They cannot, but they don't want to listen to me.)

Massive Hello and Thanks to all of you lovely folk who have been tagging me lately. Especially this past Sunday, I feel like EVERYONE was posting then, but me - whoops. @thewholelemon @artsyunderstudy @shrekgogurt @nausikaaa @that-disabled-princess @iamamythologicalcreature @ileadacharmedlife @hushed-chorus @aristocratic-otter

Now. Onto the WIP Wednesday!!

I have TWO WIPs to share today. And one of them is actually Carry On. So sorry for my friends that have had to deal with my latest hyper-fixation these past few months.

Excerpt from Untitled SnowBaz Oneshot

I cannot believe I let Penelope Bunce drag me out here. Every single one of my ancestors is probably rolling in their graves as I cross the threshold to the studio. (Who am I kidding, they've been rolling in their graves since I came out as gay.) I'm shocked by how many people are here, all of them talking to each other as they get settled in front of their easels. Some have pulled up stools to sit on while others opt to stand, and there's two girls that have forgone an easel entire to sit on the floor with their sketchpads in their laps. No one pays us any mind as we walk around the circle of people, finding two unclaimed spots side-by-side. "Are you going to look like that the entire time, Basil?" Penelope asks as she pulls a stool closer to her easel. I scoff at her. "Look like what?" She just rolls her eyes at me. "Like you want to set this place or yourself on fire." "Seriously?" I seethe at her in a hush, leaning in close so no one overhears our conversation. "I accidentally set --" "Penny!!" A loud voice cuts me off as a taller bloke slides in between us. "I'm so glad you came tonight!" Looking over the strangers shoulder at Penny, I'm about to ask her just who the fuck is this, but her eyes are firmly planted on this newcomer. There's an undeniable blush on her cheeks. "I said I'd be here, didn't I?" She challenges the man as she adjusts her glasses. "And I even brought a friend." At that, they both turn to look at me. "This is Basil," Penny motions from the stranger to me. "It's his first time attending a class. Basil," she addresses me this time, "this is Shep - he's the instructor for tonight's class." "Pleasure to meet you," Shep offers his hand and I take it. He has a decent grip. "Likewise." "Are you planning to stay back after the session like normal?" Shep asks, turning his head in Penelope's direction. "Of course!" She answers immediately. And with Shep still looking at her, I can't help but raise an inquisitive eyebrow at her - one that she catches. Really, Penelope? The glare that she sends my way screams oh, fuck off, Basil.

And of course, a piece from the AOT project that has a chokehold on my life still.

Excerpt from Undecided Chapter of May Their Blood Boil

I don’t have a fucking clue what I’m supposed to do now. Every eye is firmly planted on me, and all I want to do is turn and run back down the hallway - find one of the secret passageways that Erwin’s showed me to slip into and wait out the rest of this ball.  Instead, I find Erwin amongst the sea of people. It isn’t difficult, he’s ridiculously tall and his hair shines in the candlelight. Not a single hair out of place, even his eyebrows look as though they’ve been tended to for the event. He’s in a suit that looks as though it was measured to his exact measurements. A soft blue, like that of storm clouds on the horizon with a rich gold embroidery along the edges that hugs his shoulders. What’s shocking about his attire, however, is the trinket on display around his neck. He’s wearing it as he normally does, like a bolo tie, with the emerald encrusted in gold resting on the ruffles of his dress shirt.  Erwin’s eyes worry me though. That mask that he’s been determined to wear is in place again, his eyes dull despite the bright smile plastered across his lips. There’s a glass of wine in his hands, he’s holding it delicately by the stem of the glass, and when he takes a sip of it he looks up towards me. Focusing on his gaze, on the smoldering fire beneath the front he’s put in place, I walk down the steps to join the fray.  I’m so focused on Erwin, I don’t notice Reiss waiting for me at the bottom of the steps. He’s holding out a hand for me, that I want to refuse to take, but his earlier words are still resonating in my eardrums.  Behave. Or I’ll execute every person in this palace who has so much as looked in your direction.  Placing my palm in his, I bite my tongue to keep from reacting to the disgusting clamminess of his hand. His smile at my obedience makes my stomach turn and my every muscle itch for a knife to lodge in his throat.

(Fun Fact - The first 5 Chapters of this fic are on AO3 AND there may be some secret fanart for this scene.)

Tags and Hello's to Everyone are beneath the cut 👋

@confused-bi-queer @cutestkilla @ebbpettier @facewithoutheart @fatalfangirl @ic3-que3n @ivelovedhimthroughworse @ionlydrinkhotwater @j-nipper-95 @johnwgrey @krisrix @larkral @letraspal @martsonmars @onepintobean @palimpsessed @prettylightsbigcity @raenestee @skeedelvee @stardustasincocaine @stitchyqueer @tea-brigade @theimpossibledemon @wellbelesbian @whogaveyoupermission @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

[blackjackkent]

A drabble dedicated to @rhysintherain because this has been living rent-free in my head since I posted yesterday about Rakha and Lae'zel going to shake down Zorru:

------

Karlach settles into camp quickly. She has spent a lot of time on the move as part of Zariel's army, and part of being a soldier is being able to make herself comfortable in any random bit of space big enough for a kip. Hells - having her own tent and space around it is practically palatial compared to the bunkroom full of cambions that was her primary resting place in Avernus.

Almost the first thing she does as soon as she's got her tent set up is sprawl out on the ground and stretch her arms and legs out as far as they'll go in all directions and let the sun beat down on her. It's not really home, not quite yet, but it's close. This is the happiest she's been in a long time.

She's halfway to dozing off for a comfortable nap when she realizes Rakha has wandered back and is just...standing there, staring at her.

Karlach opens one eye and peers up at the half-orc curiously. "Can I help you?"

She's already learning that her new friend is kind of a strange one, even without what she's been told about the other woman's memory loss and intrusive murder thoughts. Rakha doesn't always seem to know how to talk, and certainly not what normal conversation sounds like; she just says things, blunt and clipped, without concern for niceties. And she blinks just slightly too little, which makes her steady gaze a smidgen unnerving.

"I have a question," she says.

"Oh?" Karlach sits up slowly into a cross-legged position, jerks her head to indicate Rakha should sit down. "Well, let's hear it, then."

Rakha does not sit - does not, in fact, move at all. "Your race. Is it tiefling or teeth-ling?" she asks, with the same level of gravity she might have brought to ripping Karlach's head off.

Karlach blinks rapidly. "Sorry, what?"

"You are like those in the grove. The refugees," Rakha says. It's not a question, merely a collection of facts gathered for appraisal. "Gale called you tieflings, after we killed two rescuing Lae'zel. Lae'zel, however, pronounced it teeth-lings." She squints at Karlach intently. "I require your clarification."

"Oh." It's not really fair to laugh - and really, Karlach's amusement isn't at Rakha's lack of knowledge. It's the incredible seriousness of the demand, as if this question lies on par with all the unanswered ones about the worms in their heads. "Well, I can understand the confusion," she says, keeping her expression serious with an extreme effort of will.

"Yes." Rakha folds her arms. "Lae'zel would not mislead me, I think," she adds pensively after a slight pause. "She guided me from the nautiloid. She speaks with knowledge and without pretense."

"And Gale doesn't?" Karlach grins crookedly.

Rakha's expression twists with something like confusion. "I do not understand Gale," she admits slowly. "He knows much I wish to learn. But I feel foolish when he speaks."

"Too many words," Karlach agrees commiseratingly.

"Yes."

Well, it's almost an act of kindness, then, if that's how she feels about it, Karlach thinks to herself. A morale boost for her friendship with Lae'zel. It'd be doing her a favor.

But really, it's just the fact that it's the first time she's had the opportunity to do something funny in almost a decade, and she's not emotionally strong enough to resist that temptation.

"Well, I can tell you for certain, it's definitely teeth-ling," she says, serious as a funeral. "Lae'zel was right on top of it."

Rakha nods gravely. "Ah. Excellent." A pause. "Thank you."

She turns and walks away. Karlach crawls at once into her tent, curls into her bedroll, stuffs the pillow in her mouth, and howls with laughter.

-----

"This is your doing, isn't it?" Gale asks her several days later.

"No idea what you're talking about," Karlach says around a mouthful of the camp's latest attempt at "stew". It's a particularly unimpressive attempt tonight; the vast majority is carrots, and the rest is a very uninspiring cut of meat that is uncomfortably grey. And yet, somehow, it's still better than anything Zariel ever fed her.

"Rakha called Zevlor a teeth-ling to his face this afternoon."

Karlach lets out strangled giggle. "Oh, my gods. Seriously?" She drops her spoon back into her bowl with a clatter and gives him her full attention. "Tell me everything. What did his face look like?"

"Even my prodigious powers of description fail me on the subject. I think we may count ourselves lucky that he was too perplexed to be offended," Gale says dryly. "But most significantly to the point, any attempts to correct her afterwards have come to naught. She claimed that you were responsible for this particular crime against pronunciation and considered the matter irrevocably closed."

"Hmph," Karlach says cheerfully. "It was Lae'zel who came up with it. I just confirmed it."

He rolls his eyes. "You're enjoying this linguistic catastrophe, aren't you?"

"Listen, Gale - she's not hurting anyone, and the last time I had a little stupid harmless fun was 1481. Give me a break."

[little-peril-stories]

Find the Word Tag

I was tagged by @tabswrites in this post here. I was also tagged here by @kaylinalexanderbooks. Thank you!

My words (round 1): try, bright, teeth and smile

My words (round 2): tool, personal, appear, sour

Gently tagging (no pressure): @oh-no-another-idea @verba-writing + open tag

Your words: bristle, teem, small, perchance, sound

All of these come from the various TPOT-related short stories I've got hanging around!

Try - Are You Nobody, Too?

I whirl around, stupid Stella’s stupid voice in my stupid brain. “Don’t you dare try anything, Henry Bailey. I’m trusting you, and if you—” “Jeez, Lucy.” He sighs and takes a step back. “This doesn’t seem much like trust, does it?”

Bright - Are You Nobody, Too?

Outside, the wind picks up. Autumn is in full swing, with maple leaves now the colour of crabapples, some of them already starting to fall and coat the ground, painting it the hues of the season—sun-bright yellow, brilliant orange, and of course, blood red.

Teeth - When the Snow Falls

At the graveness of his son’s tone, and how it perfectly imitated the dour seriousness of a stern-faced schoolmaster or perhaps a proselytizing pastor, Dad muffled a snort of laughter and pressed his teeth into his knuckles.

Smile - Are You Nobody, Too?

“One week,” I say. A smile spreads across his face. “A few days off. Time to practice. And then in a week, I’ll take you up on your stupid offer. And I’ll win.”

Tool / Personal - As Good As Gold, and Better

...I put my attention back on Will. I didn’t really know what I was doing when I told him to help the children put their ornaments on the tree, but he’s doing a splendid job, so much that I almost want to let my hands fall still so I can keep watching him. He’s got this great silly smile on his face every time he kneels down to talk to one of them, and even though they’re so much smaller, none of them seem the slightest bit frightened. One of the little girls—of course, it’s the one with personal space issues, the one who crawled under my legs earlier—even leaps into his arms out of sheer excitement to put her messily drawn star as high upon the tree as she can reach.

Appear - It Isn't Much, But It is Enough For Me fun fact it's been retitled and it's now called Making Home

“Don’t play with fire unless you want to get burned,” Colette echoed, glaring him right into the kitchen, though Jamie could see the laughter trying to fight its way onto her face. Her grin faltered as she caught Jamie’s eye, and they both seemed to have the same thought at the same time. When Jamie glanced over at Geoff, he, too, appeared to be thinking it—the creeping sense that Colette’s warning applied to more than Will’s childish aversion to work.

Sour Bitter - Are You Nobody, Too?

He is, and maybe I’m a fool for taking him up on his offer, but for the first time in weeks, I’m feeling something other than the empty dread these long, bitter days have brought.

[slickshoesareyoucrazy]

Still Still Dirt

I left work an hour early today to come see you, because we might not get another nice day this week. And since your place is still Still Dirt, I don't want to come when it's raining or muddy. That's not me being delicate about my shoes or my car, it just feels wrong. Everything about coming here still feels wrong. 💔😢 But you know what I mean.

I also came today because Walt Whitman's Leaves of Grass has shown up in 3 different pieces of media I've consumed this weekend.

https://poets.org/poem/song-myself-6-child-said-what-grass

Again...not subtle, man. 😂❤️

It's still Still Dirt, but there are a couple errant sprouts here and there. Dandelions. Where wishes come from. And that hole in the top of your stone is so overgrown, I felt compelled to trim it with my hands. Those bells are good and secure in there now. I wish the top of your grave was as lush as that empty spot in your stone. I wish your stone looked like it was carefully placed here instead of offset like an obvious afterthought . I wish it was clear that someone else was visiting your grave besides me. I wish you didn't have a grave. 😢💔

Someone else was here mourning the person one row up from you. Crying. She sat down on the grave because her person's has grass. I don't think I'll ever be able to sit down here. Would you want me to? It's too close to your mom and a stranger.

Anyway, D's boy is going to play at the University of North Carolina in 2025. HE committed on Friday afternoon. They had a ceremony because he got so many offers. D sent me a message to make sure I came because he didn't trust the Facebook post alone would get me there. I wish you were there. D's boy cried thanking his sister. Made me cry too. If I ever did anything big and impressive I'd cry thanking you.

Spotify gave me The Seekers' I'll Never Find Another You pulling into the cemetery. Seriously. Fuck I miss you. 😭

I brought you another stone. This one is from the library because I decided at work to come. But next time I'll bring some from the house. Still looking for a nice bell. That will come here eventually too. I promise. Just have to find the right one. ❤️

Ok well I have to get home to rescue the dog from his spoiled loneliness. There are no dogs allowed here, which I understand, but I kinda feel like you would hate. I also hate it. I wish I could bring G and your dogs here. I'll come back soon. I'll see the grass grow. Sorry there was more snot this time. It's good for me to cry though. Love you, you fucker. ❤️❤️❤️

[springbons]

ASGORE ISN’T A BAD GUY AND I’M TIRED OF PRETENDING HE IS! (Note: I am wrong. I change my view.)

(Everything below this is Conjecture and my failed opinion, but I refuse to delete it for archival reasons. Consider it a tagline of my failure. Do not take me seriously, cause after review of what others have told me, the whole POINT of the storyline is both of them were being stupid. But then again, this post is mostly “She’s not perfect either, and people need to not hate asgore and give him the love he deserves, and to be able to look past what he did because what she did was just as bad.” That’s the TL;DR.)

That’s it. I’ve had it. I’ve had it for too long. I’m not even mad at the people, I’m more mad at Toriel. Toriel is a selfish woman who caused a million problems, blamed her husband for it, pushed it all onto him to solve, and he’s just trying to do what he can to SLEEP AT NIGHT. Let’s get into it!

WHAT ELSE WAS THERE TO DO?

Let’s start with a line that Toriel says at the end of the run, because this is the hardest to account for IMO, and has pissed me off the most; "If you really wanted to free our kind, you could have gone through the barrier after you got ONE SOUL, taken six SOULs from the humans, then come back and freed everyone peacefully."

Now put yourself in Asgores shoes. You’re a big, fluffy, push-over who has barely enough strength to fight a single human without feeling like scum of the earth. Do you think he would be able to go out and just slaughter 6 innocent lives and live with himself? Do you think he could sleep when every time he closes his eyes he sees one of their faces? No. He made a choice, a difficult one: He found a solace in compromise, the people of the Underground would go free eventually, but he would not hunt those merely living their lives. Let them fall into the mountain, be their own foolishness that lets them get killed.

IT’S HER FAULT TOO!

But Toriel here thinks that’s not good enough. Like his choices were all wrong, as if he had a right one. Well, Ms. Know-It-All, let’s count every single choice you’ve made and see how many fuck-ups we can rack up, hm?

She let a human (Considered Enemies of War at the time) into their home, child or not.

She was so bad at supervising them at she didn’t catch on when they started stuffing Buttercups in their mouth

Ontop of that, had their plan succeeded, ALL humans could’ve ended up dead in some ungodly reign of terror, who knows what would’ve happened then.

Then when his husband declares War on humans for killing their Children despite the fact they were completely peaceful while on the surface, instead of being his only voice of reason and beacon of light remaining, she runs off and secludes herself in the ruins to make him feel bad.

She then spent years manipulating every human child that ever fell into the underground into staying with her, forcing them to stay in her home against their wishes until they finally had to fight her just to leave

And then she doesn’t help them when they DO leave, instead deciding to let them go into this “Harsh and Cruel” world completely unprepared and alone, not even answering their calls.

And she never leaves because why? Because she just couldn’t abandon the grave of her first child. This child, that she brought in, which caused so many problems. Her son is dead, Frisk is haunted by Chara, and all the blame was put onto her Husband, who’s just doing his best.

I even got some extras!

CAUSE WHY NOT?

You could technically say she causes the Genocide Route. Her negligence to watch over The Player, (or Frisk,) as they slaughter countless monsters is humiliating to say the least. She lets a child run rampant, completely on their own, in a dangerous place, and not only do they get hurt in Pacifist, they could level an entire town in Genocide before they get to her home. And then? She reads them a story, and bakes them some pie. How. Lovely. You blind-ass goat.

Another thing that pisses me off is did she ever stop to think how her husband felt after all of that? His children, dead. His wife, gone. A man with no strength and will, left with the toughest possible decision in the worst situation. Do you think that if Asgore didn’t have hundreds-of-thousands counting on him to run the Underground, (Oh yeah, she left him with that responsibility alone too btw,) that he may not have been able to take it? He had to stay strong for so many, he had no other option, but if it was just him? If all that happened while they were above-ground, while he wasn’t king? ...Do you think he would’ve killed himself from the stress alone? Cause I certainly do. Asgore is a very, very hurt soul who didn’t deserve any of what he had to face or do, and Toriel is a fool. I rest my case.

[graftisms]

JOSHUA & MAXWELL — DAY TWENTY-SEVEN

location :   night / post-dumping / bathroom

featuring :   @dobits​

JOSHUA

“oh good, you’re still here.” obviously josh knows he’s still here; he has two stops to make on this goodbye tour that’s brought a spring to his step, and like hell he would leave without making max see his smug face one more time. this goodbye is one that pales compared to what he wants to say to dejan, but after his voting conversation with jenny, part of him feels the need to flaunt the reality between them a little more. it feels like a battle won, one he hadn’t even meant to get swept up in, brought on by max’s negging. but for now he offers him a smile that the other guy can probably see past, holding out one of the containers max had put his grubby fingers in the last time they were in the bathroom together. “some sunscreen for the road,” he offers, the gesture of a gift.  “for your skincare routine that you really ought to start. and… just wanted to say that i hope there’s no hard feelings about tonight. or any of it.” 

MAXWELL

figures he's not even cold in the ground yet and the big man's already trying to tapdance on max's grave. he laughs dryly, bouncing his smirk off the bathroom mirror and toward josh behind him before going back to rounding up his shit. "look at that smile on your face, boss. not even trying to hide how relieved you are i won't be getting even more cozy with cohen." josh may be on a celebration tour, but max reads it like an admission of insecurity. "i think that's kinda cool and sensitive of you to be so open about it." brows raise at the jar being held out to him. "aw," max turns and spins the lid off, leaning forward to give a good hawk putuh and spits inside it before returning the lid. "i'm all good, naomi's gonna hook me up."

JOSHUA

it's impressive how max waits all of five seconds before bringing up jenny, a short laugh escaping him. "please, i think we both know i had nothing to worry about there." this is so painful to write, but josh is at least acting like he means what he says, putting the jar down on the sink in front of him and pushing it forward anyway.  "ah, yes, naomi. your first choice. maybe that's where you went wrong here. but seriously, man. i'm sorry that we never got to actually get along, since you were too busy chasing after whoever i was with. take it, c'mon. all that smoking you do, your skin could use it."

MAXWELL

"yeah," max replies with a grin, fully aware and thoroughly enjoying how utterly stupid josh is gonna look in this edit. "you're right. i dunno why i thought i had a chance." maybe if he can hold on to that thought, he'll be able to make it through this mind-numbing conversation without saying something crazy. he turns and leans back against the counter, awarding josh his full attention as he mocks him. max fucked his girl, after all, he owes josh. "i tried," he reminds him, a note of sincerity that will surely feel insulting once everything's out in the open. "i didn't want it to be some bullshit dick measuring contest. but i guess i kinda fucked that early on." a shrug, oh well. he smirks down at the lotion, shakes his head. "we get the joke, gym rat, give us somethin' new. get it all out."

JOSHUA

well, he doesn't like that grin. after watching jenny trot after max like a puppy on his heels after the dumping, it's not making him feel good.  "you've got something to say?" his eyebrows raise. it's almost not fun when max isn't meeting him halfway, instead giving him a smile fit for the joker. eyebrows raise lightly, not believing max didn't want it to be a dick measuring contest from the get go.  "that's on you, man. i tried to be nice. you're the one being a dick the whole time. if it's a dick measuring contest, it's because you took yours out first." josh flashes him a smirk, though there's not as much smugness in it. he's saving that for dejan later.

MAXWELL

"i just said it," max points out, mouth chock full of canary. "better man won, right?" there's a hollow laugh at josh's denial, head shaking and his hand raising in a shrug. "just told you i fucked it first grafting jen. not to use a word outside your fuckin' comprehension, but it's called accountability. wouldn't kill ya to learn it." he's really trying to be the bigger man, trying not to start shit. there's no space for logic in this bathroom, but max wants to make one thing clear. "i told you i'd cut the shit, i said it right here," he taps the counter. "and i did cut it, 'til... well, today. but you were still giving me a hard time, in your little feelings. takes two to tango, babe, you gotta at least admit that."

JOSHUA

"cut the shit." this is the kind of annoyance he'd feel from dejan, the king of pressing buttons. usually max just gives him mild aggregation, but he hates the way he looks so smug. not when it's josh that has the reason to be smug.  "accountability, yeah. you're just saying that because nobody voted for you, jenny included. you know she didn't even try, right? i would've at least listened if she did, but i guess she likes rhys more." jenny has probably told him otherwise by now, but there's enough truth to what josh is saying that it inflates his smile right back up. two can play it his way. "what, as opposed to last night, when you had her tied up? i had asked you to keep your hands to yourself, and i thought you were man enough to be true to your word. but i'm sure there's plenty of girls out there already lining up to hear your shitty band. and tomorrow you'll be forgotten here."  it's what josh is counting on.

MAXWELL

it's so hard not to be affected by josh's provocations. max crosses his arms over his chest and nods slowly, acting like josh was so right and it makes so much sense. he's trying his best to look composed so that josh could appear like he's having a tantrum. inside he's screaming i fucked your girl i fucked your girl. it's just like high school again. "uh-huh, i was there. and how could i forget with her begging me to forgive her all night? do you think i did? aren't you curious how it went?" it occurs to max now how riled up he's made josh, and that's without knowing what happened today. "you're so angry," he notes plainly, keeping himself restrained. there's the distant hope josh doesn't redirect this shit to dejan, no way will that guy keep any kinda peace. "should we just, like... agree to disagree or somethin'? i kinda got shit to do." and his patient is beginning to wane, his tongue bitten raw.

JOSHUA

that feels like a trap question if he's ever heard one. "she's a good person, you know? i think she's allergic to anyone being mad at her. she tries for good vibes always, even if they don't deserve it." josh can't forget the way she immediately begged for his forgiveness after saying something that was meant to hurt him. if she did that to him, god only knows what jenny did to max. "why, should i know how it went?" he isn't angry--not really, at least--but the longer this goes on, josh's exhales through his nose. "you think this is me angry? you must've missed the time i punched a hole through the wall. saying goodbye to you is nothing, dude. i even brought a present," he motions to the sunscreen. "i mean, we're not friends, and i have enough people who hate me here to know we're not enemies. you're just kind of... nothing," he says, after considering it. "would you disagree?"

MAXWELL

"hmm, i wonder if that's why she caved to you so fast," max pretends to postulate, connecting the dots for him. it feels likely josh will clarify it for him, but even max is aware that there's more to it than that. she wanted to appease josh more than she wanted to save max. "i'd wanna know if my girl walked off hand-in-hand with the guy i've been so worried about." he's really straddling the line here, the desire to put the nail in josh's coffin struggling with max's reluctance to fuck over jenny. he snorts a laugh, nodding at the memory. "you're bragging about that? all right, i get it. this little outburst is you on a chill day, cool. and --," he sighs, nodding at the sunscreen, "yes, i got the joke the first two times it fell flat." hearing josh's perspective does provoke some interest, not that he's gonna voice it. who does he think hates him in here, barring dejan? max must not have kept up with that drama. finally, he nods, straightening off the counter. "nothing sounds delicious. let's be nothing."

JOSHUA

what is he even saying? josh scoffs at the notion that max knows anything about his relationship with jenny. he shouldn't be entertaining this; he will not. but there's no denying that any reservations josh has about his relationship with jenny could be summed up by watching her with max. josh doesn't think max is anything special, but it's what he represents more than anything: the fact that her head could turn on a dime, whenever she gets bored. it's not like their relationship has been particularly exciting compared to the way it started. "well it's not like i have anything to worry about now, considering you're gone. you didn't even try that hard trying to graft, did you?" other than last night at the event, josh really hadn't seen max put in much effort. "i'm not bragging," maybe is a little, "i'm just trying to prove my point." how little max truly means. he smiles slightly when max moves off the counter, eyes watching him cooly. "i'll see you at the reunion, i guess." a pause. "if jenny and i don't work out by then, maybe i'll wingman for you." he blames the way his stomach fell watching max and jenny walk inside earlier that makes him feel that way. josh wants to ask if anything happened between them--and the way max is smiling smugly at him, josh is convinced something must've happened--but he knows enough about max to know the truth: he'd never actually tell him. josh would know, because if the roles were reversed, he'd do the same.

MAXWELL

"nah, not really," max admits with a shrug of his head. "didn't have to with jenny." and, c'mon, josh had to have known that one was comin'. it was kinda sad being reminded his time is truly up, he's leaving the villa tonight. way too soon. god, the reunion. now he's a little perturbed that this shit isn't actually over. "wingman," he repeats with a bark of laughter. "that would be... so fucking weird. i'm in." if given the chance, he's certain josh would dedicate the honor to making sure max didn't see a lick of tail, but he'd be remiss to refuse the opportunity. it is a little odd to him that josh seems to have his doubts about jenny even despite all his provocations, it's the first whiff of it he's shone to max. "i'm sure you crazy kids'll really go the distance," max says with deadpanned, pursed lips, half sarcastic, but even still making sure to show josh how gleeful he is not about that. a little gift from him to josh.

JOSHUA

didn't have to try with jenny. maybe josh would've written himself off as paranoid in a few hours, but there's something about the way max says that coupled with the look the other gives him when it finally clicks into place. max can probably see the moment the gears stop turning in his head and lock into place, eyes growing colder, jaw tightening. he could ask what happened, but it doesn't really matter, does it? knowing jenny, he probably already knows. josh no longer wants to joke about wingmanning or making it last with jenny right now. the only redeeming factor right now is how little max cares to hear about him and jenny lasting, probably thinking it's as likely as josh does right now. for a moment he can only look at him, men both unhappy, a shift in the mood that feels tainted. finally, josh lays down his sword—he's had enough of this for the rest of the night. "well, fuck you," he says, though it's resigned, getting up from his spot against the wall. "have a nice life, man." josh hopes to never see his face again.

MAXWELL

uh oh. well, that looks grim. he's not sure where he pushed too far, maybe insinuated something more solid than the arbitrary flirtations he was trying to refer to, but josh seems to be drawing his own conclusions. max would love for an opportunity to lie through his teeth right now, to assure josh that nothing happened no matter how hard max tried. so he's left a little speechless when josh goes to delete himself from the conversation. god, he hopes jenny's a good liar, because this is gonna suck for her. at least he can smile and say he didn't spill the beans... purposefully. "-- ditto." all the above. shit.

[lancerious]

Adding to this post because I just came across it, I'd honestly say Spade King didn't want to kill Kris, Susie, and Ralsei in front of Lancer. He might have sent Lancer to kill them instead, but let's be real, do you really think Spade King expected Lancer to do so? Lancer's only a child, and if Kris and Susie truly did try to defend themselves, Lancer would've been demolished. But Susie and Kris don't take Lancer seriously since he's not any threat. I think Spade King's objective was for Lancer to MEET Kris and Susie, lure them OUT into the Dark World, and then have OTHER Darkners do the job. Or, other Darkners could have brought Kris and Susie directly to Spade King so he could kill them instead. Remember, Castle Town was separate from the rest of the Dark World. There was literally a door separating the two worlds. It's not like Kris and Susie suddenly appeared in the Field of Hopes and Dreams right at the get-go. They actively had to travel a ways to get there.

But going back to what I initially said, I don't believe Spade King wanted Lancer to be directly involved in the battle. He tried to talk Lancer out of befriending the Lightners in a peaceful manner, and when that didn't work, his anger got the best of him and he threatened to kill his own son. Was it a serious threat? I highly doubt it. Spade King was likely desperate. Threatening to kill Lancer was his last-ditch attempt to resolve things quickly before things got out of hand. And he did almost kill Susie, Kris, and Ralsei! They were on their knees, but Lancer intervened and in turn saved them, even if he did run away right after.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that Spade King was worried for Lancer. He was concerned. His personal experience with Lightners has left a very foul taste in his mouth, and he wants to do anything he can to prevent Lancer from experiencing the same--or at least a similar--thing. I'm sure Susie telling Spade King during his battle that they were friends with Lancer was not comforting at all. It's the very thing Spade King wants his son to avoid! He clearly did not want Lancer to develop any sort of bond with Kris and Susie.

Which brings me to Chapter 2. At this point, Spade King has likely realized he made a grave mistake. Not with battling Kris, Susie, and Ralsei, but right before that. When Lancer was there. When your relationship with your own son is already a bit precarious, the last thing you want is for your son to have another reason to be against you. To fear you. And this is almost certainly exactly what Spade King is thinking. He's thinking he's failed, he's messed up. Maybe he even thinks Lancer sees him in a very negative light.

To add to this, we have Spade King and Queen's interaction later on. Now, I'm sure Queen had good intentions when she said she would be taking care of Lancer from then on, but that probably hurt Spade King even more. This means he has even less of a connection to his son. And Lancer would maybe have less incentive to visit Spade King too. It's all adding up into a massive pile of guilt and remorse.

And yet, Spade King never shows it. He never reveals his inner thoughts/emotions. He may hint at there being a bit more to the story when he retorts at what Susie said about him not caring about Lancer & threatening to kill him, but this is all we get, at least so far. There's so much trauma Spade King is bottling up, and the pain of hiding his emotions and thoughts from everyone must be unbearable. Spade King doesn't want to show vulnerability. He doesn't want to reveal any softness. He wants to remain what he was at the start of the game: a powerful, hardened, justice-bringing monarch.

Like the previous reblogger says, Spade King thinks he's a hero. He thought he was doing his citizens a favor by spreading Lightner hate propaganda and forcing his citizens to take action against any who enter their world. From his perspective, he's the savior. He's the one sparing everyone from the same inevitable fate he went through.

But Spade King's not a hero. Everybody feared him. I'm sure even the Rudinn Rangers, who were likely the most loyal Darkners, feared him deep inside. Spade King didn't cast a wave of light on his world, he cast a wave of darkness. And that wave of darkness only lifted once he was defeated.

Sorry this post is so long, I just had a lot to say on this topic.

"What are you fighting for, Spade?"

[kimyoonmiauthor]

Trigger Warnings in Queries/Books

Before I start I have a lot of WTF triggers and some “normal” ones. This is because I have c-PTSD and a lot of trauma, like the Caspian sea large and shallow--starting at 9 months old. Last time I posted the list, it took over an hour for me to type it all up. So, I’m not bringing this discussion as a for/against argument. What I’m doing is asking a question from a scientific basis. I *get* probably more than you know why this is contentious. I’m adding this mostly for personal thought. I also ask you don’t go attacking the other side because I linked them up. This is mostly *my* own musings and questioning inviting your own musings and questioning. I’m aiming for an adult, not a internet shouting conversation and questioning morality with it. OMG, I might not be using the conflict narrative model. ;)

Prior to about 2010, there was no call for trigger warnings on books. Historically, music and so on was mostly brought on by conservatives in order to censor material mostly because they didn’t want to parent their children, IMO, but that’s a whole other debate. This dates mostly from the 1980′s -1990′s. So warnings were added to music and such by the Christian right.

There was a call for them, that rose with the diversity movement, but I think independently of them. People *with* trauma, also don’t all agree on it. (I’m pretty sure of the person who asked for the first trigger warnings for books, but I seriously don’t want to send people after them for this, even by accident. Harassment is not pretty folks. Needless to say, they personally don’t have trauma, but did work with trauma victims.) So agents in the two camps (again, don’t be assholes): Pro:

https://twitter.com/allielevick/status/1290410772233887745?lang=en Against: https://jetreidliterary.blogspot.com/2021/08/trigger-warnings-in-queries.html And then the Therapists.... I asked my therapist about this prior to knowing I would be triggered for some things returning to uni. My therapist said that exposure--any exposure was good. Thinking about this particular conversation, and being a social sciences geek (of the level that threatens and frightens people), I decided to look it up... The therapists, said trigger warnings on the material could actually make the trigger *worse* not better. In less jargon: The anticipation of being triggered makes the trigger worse. https://www.newyorker.com/news/our-columnists/what-if-trigger-warnings-dont-work

So I could be making someone else’s mental health worse by disclosing it to them prior. Then don’t include that content?

As Janet Reid said that sometimes people absolutely need those books to process trauma. I’ve heard people that read Bridge to Terabithia who lost a childhood friend and it was the *only* book that could comfort them. Sometimes stories have that power to resonate, despite it. Wandavision, for example, had a ton of resonance because of a collective trauma everyone felt at the time. There weren’t trigger warnings before the series, but it still managed to have the desired impact. (And yes, I was triggered a lot during that series and you should know I don’t use those words lightly. But I still loved it.) Grave of the Fireflies--absolutely devastated me. Not personally triggering for the main triggers. But it’s hella important as a story to look at human nature itself. Did you know the twist was going to happen at the start? No. That’s why it knocked you back hard. Some authors/writers absolutely use their writing to process trauma as well or ask society to *do* better about trauma and how it is handled. Sometimes those explorations from own voices are absolutely needed over everyone else victim blaming and writing over what it’s actually like to have trauma. We will need those ownvoices.

I say this as someone adopted--we need own voices about adoption trauma out there because literally without our voices, they‘ve made our stories a trip through candy land. And I think we need that balance in literature, so that we aren’t sugar coating the awful things that shouldn’t be sugar coated.

My personal thoughts/conclusions

I’m in the “I want to do no harm” camp. BUT, there is no easy way to do no harm here. Psychologists flat out say don’t do it--it’ll make it worse. But some people want to have the ability to manage panic attacks.

I do not query agents where breaking that line is posted on their requests.

I do write about trauma, because, as I said, I’ve pretty much known only trauma my entire life. I don’t know much other kinds of conflict. If you keep demanding that you want conflict from me, I’m going to spit out trauma. If you stop asking the industry for conflict narratives, I’ll spit out Slice of life interstitial and no trauma. (I still, as a person whose gone through a ton of trauma including compounding trauma, don’t think conflict makes life interesting. I find it controlling.) But I’m repeatedly told over and over that the US market hates slice of life. It’s “boring” *eyeroll* which is why a massive amount of the SOL is imported from Asia, particularly Japan, and people, meaning publishers, are ignoring it as “not legit.” But clearly, there is an untapped market there. After all, I’d argue that When Harry met Sally, called one of the best Rom coms of all time, such that it ages well, is slice of life.

I’m torn on this one. Maybe the middle ground is that agents/editors who want that warning post they would like the trigger warnings posted with the query. They don’t have to say which ones. Writers *do* want to please agents and if agents communicated better about expectations, writers will meet it. And as writers, if we aren’t sure, put a will disclose upon request?

But that New Yorker article (which I did cross reference, but that’s the most clear one) still lingers in my mind. What if I’m making someone else’s life worse?

[the-navistar-carol]

A fact about me that I have not told anyone is that I keep my emails. A lot of them. Well, I keep the ones that are useful and I keep the ones that I like. I'm a very sentimental person, and that trait extends to... emails, of all things.

Just scrolling down my Promotions tab, I have Dracula Daily from October 9, which talks about a dog that was found dead and the funeral of the Demeter's captain. I think it was specifically because of this line that made me keep it.

The folk here hold almost universally that the captain is simply a hero, and he is to be given a public funeral. Already it is arranged that his body is to be taken with a train of boats up the Esk for a piece and then brought back to Tate Hill Pier and up the abbey steps; for he is to be buried in the churchyard on the cliff. The owners of more than a hundred boats have already given in their names as wishing to follow him to the grave.

In the same vein, I have kept all of the "Dear People of the Future" emails. The last one was from August 11, and it talked about the places the author had used to live and what lives there now. I've kept all the Answer in Progress newsletters, because I like their YouTube channel and what they put onto the internet. I've kept the emails from when I was changing laws.

My "Primary" tab is an amalgamation. It's got Ao3 in there (which, seriously, go back to Social), it's got Etsy emails (hello, Phoenix shirt), it's got things that are important in there. I've starred several of those Ao3 emails, actually -- because they are comments on "Aftershocks" (hello, @missezri, I had to look up your user four times because I'd look at it, go "i can spell that," and then immediately forget how) and they make me feel like I've accomplished something. It makes me proud of starting to write again.

My "Social" tab used to be full of Ao3 updates. I have kept fic update notification emails when I really liked that chapter, but usually it's comments. I've kept all the email receipts from when @protectgeorgeweasley replies to my essay-length comments (oops, I still haven't started Atlas, my bad) and I star the ones that really stuck with me. Or, actually, I used to star all of them, as I have just realized by flipping the next page of however many emails that are still sitting in my box. Because I loved reading them once, and I'm going to love reading them again.

Your "Socials" used to be full of Ao3? What's in them now?

I'm so glad you asked, random voice that I totally didn't invent.

The top email in my "Socials" tab is a notification that @zee-has-commitment-issues tagged me in the Mega Backstory Post. It's not deleted, even though I checked it over an hour ago. It's starred, because I value what's in that post. The email second from the top is Ezri again, but it's a comment on the "are we ready for Screwed ch 23 heartbreak?" chaos post. I've kept them, and more posts that I've been tagged in or more asks I've sent that people have answered, or all of the above, because I like being reminded that people know I exist.

TL;DR I'm too sappy for my ow good, end post

[forsworned]

[♥] collegeau! to date or not to date {rengoku kyoujurou x reader}

Genre: Comedy, Slight Fluff, Slight Sensual Themes

Categories: F/M

Relationships: Renguko Kyoujorou/Reader

Word count: 2,791

a/n: continuation of unintentionally roomates which you can find here ,,requests are open

➽────────────── ────────────── ──────────── ❥ 

It had been some weeks since she had gotten used to Kyoujurou being her roommate. So far neither of them had walked in on each other naked--yet. He was pretty tidy and would call her out in a teasingly kind of way that she'd sleep with her mouth wide open which made her pretty insecure, but he insisted it was "very cute." Which didn't make it any better. He could concur that it probably wasn't a good idea to show her the picture he had taken of her (he actually would look at it when he was having a bad day or he just wanted a good laugh; he also nearly made it his homescreen but decided that was maybe a little too far).

Mid-terms would be coming up soon and Kyoujurou wanted to do something fun before all the stress would settle in from piles of homework assignments and study guides. He suggested that the both of them should go to the amusement park and [name] was more than delighted to go, but there was a small issue with this. She didn't know if it was a date or just them simply hanging out. He just brought it up so casually when they had just finished a round of Super Smash Bros. and [name] was trying her hardest not to be a flustered mess about it.

"Just ask him." Shinobu's usual singsong voice was now monotonous. She had had enough of [name]'s shit to say the least. Always inquiring about Kyoujurou since Shinobu and him had been in the same graduating high school class and friend group. Not to mention mid terms were coming up and pre-med was no joke.

[Name] visibly sulked at her friend's tone. She didn't like being a nuisance to Shinobu, even though it wasn't hard to irate her nerves, but this time she seriously needed help and Shinobu was being nothing less than unpleasant.

"Shinobuuuu," [Name] whined. "This is a big deal for me. Please give me advice and I won't bring it up ever again."

The ravenette's eyes darted to the [h/c] pleading gaze, and it was enough to make to [name] squeak. Shinobu let out a sigh before speaking.

"Fine," [name]'s expression brightened, but Shinobu's finger pressing into her forehead made it falter a little. "but you don't need to stop talking about him. Just do it a lot less. I need to focus on exams."

[Name] cheered in triumph and fist pumped into the air, which in turn made Shinobu laugh. She wanted to be there for [name] in anyway she could, just within some restrictions and limitations. Shinobu's face suddenly went gravely serious.

"So here's the game plan."

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°

[Name] took a deep breath before looking at her reflection. Her outfit was subtle yet cute. A simple blue top and beige skort to prevent panty reveals yet still have the illusion of wearing a skirt. Hair was pinned and pulled back abover her neckline since the sun would be beating down and she wanted to take every precaution to avoid any excessive sweating. Make up was light to circumvent it from melting off her face. Yes, [name] was over meticulous because she was resolute in this hang out/date to be absolutely perfect. And if Kyoujurou had decided to reject her than at least she'd look hot getting her heartbroken.

He had already left over an hour ago since he had to tutor a student in history at the tutoring center. A work study job that he picked up to help cover his tuition and endlessly spoke about when he got back to his dorm when you two were winding down from your day.

[Name] spritzed her best perfume to all her pulse points to extend the life of her scent as it hit her body. She threw it in her bag along with her make up just in case she needed to freshen up. One last look in the mirror and she was finally off to her date, er, hang-out thingy.

The autumn air was irregularly warm and humid. Well, not irregular for Okinawa at least. It was a sub tropical climate which meant mild winters and the moist summers were what [name] favored most about it here.

As she walked out of the dormitory and into the student parking lot, she was nearly blinded by the blond tresses sitting on the bench. Like quite, literally blinded. The sun was bouncing off his fiery hair more than usual and it was causing [name] to squint at him when she approached him. For some reason (she had an exact reason being that she looked super hot), [name] felt bold, and advanced toward Kyoujurou with hands concealing his vision. He visibly tensed and she couldn't help but feel a smile tug at her lips.

"Guess who."

His body now relaxing at the sound of her voice and she felt the apples of cheeks rise into a grin against the palm of her hands. "[name], you're finally here!"

She released her hands as he got up to face her and his jaw went a little aslack as he oggled at her profile. [Name] was stunning, indeed. His adam's apple bobbed up and down as he dryily swallowed. His hair that was now pulled back in a high ponytail let his bangs frame his face beautifully, swayed in the small gust momentarily. She could've sworn that he was blushing at her, but then again it was quite hot...

"You look--um, quite sharp!" He stammered. Kyoujurou mentally socked himself in the face. Sharp? That was the best he could come up with?

[Name]'s expression was now in a state of bemusement before she laughed melodically. To him it was a beautiful melody that he always tried to sway out of her with corny jokes and memes. "Well, thank you Kyoujurou. You look quite sharp, too!"

[Name] wanted to die. She looked sharp? Sharp?! No, she looked Hot! With a capital freaking "H".

Nonetheless, [name] shook it off. She was determined to make this flawless even if it was off to a rocky start. Thankfully the ride to the amusement car was starting to make up for it. The both of them jammed to the playlist they had put together earlier and discussed which rides they were excited about most.

"$50?!"

"You really don't read things thoroughly do you, [name]."

[Name] ignored his attempt at poking fun at her. It was always like this whenever she freakishly exclaimed about information that was news to her, but had been there for well however long the inital post had been there for and Kyoujurou had always made it a point to call her out for it.

"Well, I can't make you pay for it." She deadpanned. And she absolutely meant it. Kind of. Not really. It would mean that it would technically be a date, right? Right? A guy paying always meant that it was a date. [Name] mentally nodded at herself reassuring herself.

"Well, that's too bad." He inserted his card into the chip reader and thanked the attendant while grabbing his receipt.

[Name] bit back a smile as they walked side by side into the park. "Well, I'm going to pay you back."

He looked at her with an uncharacterstically sultry gaze. "No, you are not."

His voice demanding, dropped an octave and it sent a shiver up her spine. [Name] would be lying to herself if she said that it didn't make the her stomach knot up. Kyoujurou pulled out his phone pointed it towards her, trying to get a good angle and lighting.

"Now, give me a smile!" He beamed in his usual cheery tone. [Name] smiled posing her usual peace sign as he clicked away at his phone. Had she just imagined that?

The day seemed to slip past them as they took pictures with their phones and disposal camera they bought at the one of the stands for a whooping $25. Which was a total rip off, but then again bottled water was $5. The pair were laughing as they looked through the pictures they had taken throughout their trip.

"Oh, no. You are not keeping this one." She reached over to tap the trash can on his phone screen to get rid of the terrible photo that was her inhaling funnel cake. But before she could, Kyoujurou moved his screen away from her as he chuckled at [name] getting flustered. There was no way he'd let her get away with such a cute picture.

"I am definitely going to be framing this as soon as we get back." And that made [name]'s face inflame in embarrassment and shock. She was definitely, not going to let him do that.

"You delete that, right. Now!" She tried her best to extend her arms in every which way Kyoujurou was flexing his arms out but to avail. [Name] knew she wasn't going to get her hands on his phone, but she kept leaning over in an attempt to get an advantage on his long arms. That was until she clambered into his lap, face first into his crotch.

Kyoujurou froze and his breath hitched as he lowered his arm down and let unholy thoughts pass through his head but he quickly shook them off. "A-are you alright, [name]?"

Nope, now [name] was definitely going to die. She slowly rose out of his lap and plopped back into her seat, trying her best not to make the situation even more awkward. She shot him a smile in a strive to shake off the graceless action of diving face first into the crotch of her crush.

"I'm all good." She took a deep breath before looking up at the darkening sky. Kyoujurou couldn't tell what she was thinking, but it looked almost as if she was unfazed which he was very thankful for.

"Let's go on the ferris wheel before we leave!" That snapped him out of his thoughts. A grin now making its way back onto his face and a sound of approval emitted from his lips. "Let's do it!"

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°

[Name] snickered to herself as they entered the ferris wheel seating after letting several people ahead of them. It was all going according to plan, well, not the face planting into Kyoujurou’s lap. That was definitely not in the plan she and Shinobu had concocted.

“So, here the game plan.” Shinobu stated matter-o-factly. Her name were in a crouched position as if in a very important football team meeting. “You’re gonna look hot. Like I’m talking Jennifer’s Body hot. And then—“

”But i don’t have clothes like that.”

“Shut up. We’ll go shopping. And your make up has got to be perfect like I’m talking no melting off your face looking like the Corpse Bride. Oh, and you’re drowning yourself in sexy perfume every thirty minutes.”

”But I—“

”Speak out of line one more time and I’ll kick your ass.”

“Fine.”

“Back to what I was saying. You’re gonna take loads of pics start it off friendly and lighthearted and then bam! You get him on that ferris wheel and get your flirt on. End the night off with a kiss at the top of the ferris wheel.”

Shinobu was extremely gifted in giving pep talks and revving them up. Which was probably why she was captain of the cheer team at their university.

[Name] felt like she was a crazy high. She could practically run four miles nonstop with the attitude she had in that moment.

Shinobu and her high fived, one leg kicked up in to the air with the most triumphant looks on their faces. “We got this!”

She shook her head as if to shake away the thought.

”You, ok?”

She smiled at the slightly dampened Kyoujorou who’s cheek were tinted pink from the heat. Beads of sweat has slid down his temples, but that only seemed to add to his sex appeal.

”More than ok. I love ferris wheels. They’re so romantic.”

Those words left her lips and turned in a smile that was as sweet as candy. Kyoujurou’s heart leapt in his chest as he eyed her intently.

”You could say that.”

He done fucked up again. Kyoujurou wanted to kick his own ass at this point. Why was he so terrible at flirting? It made him look like he didn’t pick up any social cues at all. Which wasn’t entirely untrue. There were many times where Tengen would point out that a girl was being extremely flirtatious with him but it would simply go over his head. He would usually reject the notion claiming they were just being nice which in turn would lead to Tengen face palming. And he thought he was doing such a good job at the start.

The silence was deafening as they reached the top of the ride and it suddenly came to a jerking stop. The view was wondrous. The sun kissed at their faces and grazed the tops of trees and the peaks of roller coaster rides. Brightly colored lights flashed simultaneously down below, but [Name]’s  stomach felt like it was caving in the longer she stared. Very romantic, indeed.

Her face must’ve looked a little green because Kyoujurou’s expression turned into a worried one. “You sure you’re okay, [name]? Have some water.”

She grabbed the bottle he handed to her and instead of water falling like she usually did, she pressed her lips against the same place his had been. Kyoujurou’s eyes widened in surprise as she absentmindedly guzzled his drink down and gave it back to him. His hands turning into fists as he flexed as hard he could to keep the warmth that was rising away from that region.

“Thanks.” She gasped. [Name] wiped her mouth with the back of her hand as she leaned back against the seat. So much for her game plan. She sighed to herself as she collected her thoughts. What difference would it make if she just told him right now.

”Kyoujurou.” The name left her lips so effortlessly. He loved the way she said his name. He would think about it mostly in the shower, but more innocently before he went to sleep.

He raised his eyebrows fully attentive now. She turned to face him as she leaned forward. A different look on her face. Soft and flustered. “I like you, a lot.”

His body stiffened for a moment and a cool breeze swooped past their longing gazes. The sudden realization had dawned upon him that those words weren’t just make believe. She had really uttered them into existence. He hadn’t noticed how close her lips were to his until he felt her minty breath fan against his nose. He didn’t pull away.

[Name] closed the distance between their lips and Kyoujurou instinctively leaned in more as soon as they made contact. His hand cupped her cheek to deepen the kiss and she sighed in delight. A smile now etched on her face had now infected him and he pulled away to look at her. He caressed her cheek as she giggled and he gazed her puzzled.

”Did I do something wrong?” If he kissed her wrong he definitely wanted to know. One thing about Kyoujurou was that he was always open to constructive criticism. She shook her head. The content look on her face still evident.

”Not at all.” She leaned in once more. “I just didn’t expect you to be so frigid.”

She giggled again at his surprised, yet embarrassed mien. However, [name] stopped giggling when she saw the determined look on his face.

”Well, I can do better.” He suddenly captured her lips and she instantly melted at his hot touch. His hand loosely on her waist and she moaned a bit as their kisses turn into feverish open mouthed ones. His lips detached from hers as he felt the the ride coming back down. [Name] felt like her whole body was in flames and there Kyoujurou was sitting there as cool as a cucumber.

The ride shifted the shuttle as the two got up and his hands slipped in hers as he lead them out. She couldn’t believe  the stunt he just pulled. Her fingers on her lips still feeling the ghost of his. He laughed heartily at her reddened face and that captured her attention.

”Don’t worry. We can continue that when we get back.”

[Name] was speechless, but somehow was even more flushed than before. Kyoujurou chuckled at her again as he pulled her in for a side hug as they headed back to his car. The smug look never left his face.

[ladyartemesia]

The Terms

◐ PART III of THE ALPHA ◐

◐ Part I ◐ Part II ◐ Series Masterlist ◐

Pairing: Alpha Werewolf Jimin x Omega Reader

Rating: Mature (for this installment)

Warnings: ABO sexual dynamics including discussion of scenting, marking, mating, and claiming. Violence and discussion of violence relating to ritual combat. Jin’s pheromones need their own warning. Yoonji and Yunli are not the same person.

Word Count: 2300

Author’s Note: As promised, this chapter is twice as long as the previous two and a lot of what people have been speculating about in the asks is discussed in this chapter... along with a few surprises...

“Luna rex provocatione means ‘the moon king’s challenge.’ It is never invoked lightly as its consequences are grave indeed... If an alpha believes that he is the true Alpha and the goddess has placed another in his path as a test of worthiness and dedication to the pack, then he will acknowledge his acceptance of this test by declaring luna rex provocatione. Once the challenge has been set forth only the death of the Luna’s first mate or the total surrender of the challenger can satisfy it...”

Text of the traditional speech given by a chief elder to begin a luna rex provocatione ritual [7th century]

“I know you won’t understand, but this isn’t personal-”

Jimin offered his rival an overtly feigned smile.

“You plan to kill me and claim my mate. Which part of that could I possibly take personally?”

Tae snorted somewhere in the background and Yoongi elbowed him hard.

Tradition dictated that both alphas meet with their second-in-commands in the chief elder’s chambers to discuss the terms of combat.

Namjoon brought Min Yoongi and Jimin had somehow ended up with Taehyung.

He didn’t remember actually agreeing to make Tae his second...

It just sort of happened somewhere between calming his hysterical mother and quickly reading up on archaic pack law.

The chief elder coughed uncomfortably. Goddess, this ascension was supposed to be easy. He never in a million moons thought he’d be in this position.

The last chief elder who oversaw a luna rex provocatione ritual had immortalized it in his journal as “the single most horrific moment of my life,” describing in detail the Luna howling in torment at the loss of her mate and the victor collapsing over the corpse of his foe in misery and guilt.

As in the past, the outcome of this conflict was already decided by fate...

Pain and regret weighed heavily on the older man as he considered the younger of the two alphas.

Park Jimin was going to die violently and there was nothing he could do about it.

“Because Kim Namjoon issued the challenge, his opponent will decide combat form. Your choices are human form, half-shifted, and wolf-form. After your choice is declared, Namjoon may add a minor alteration if he so desires. Park Jimin, please declare form.”

“Human,” he answered softly - and every single occupant of the room recoiled in response.

It was bad enough to witness a fight in wolf form or half-shifted... but to engage in ritual combat as a human-

It would be brutal - even psychologically disturbing - without the benefit of a wolf’s hide to mask the savagery.

Namjoon’s eyes widened in shock, but he recovered quickly.

“I request teeth and claws.”

Not quite a half-shift. Teeth and claws allowed for attacks using lengthened canines and claws.

It could make a kill slightly more... humane.

Jimin nodded and the elder pressed his seal over the first of the terms.

The were no windows in the small, stuffy chamber and between the heavy ceremonial garb and the nearly twenty braided praesidium bracelets wrapped around his wrists, Jimin felt as if the blood in his veins was literally coming to a boil.

Though he dared not remove them to relieve his discomfort.

Each bracelet represented a prayer to the goddess. They were given as protection to a loved one before a great trial.

His mother had not stopped making them since the ascension. She’d torn apart her most expensive dress and spent hours twisting the fabric strips into intricate traditional braids while she prayed...

Jimin’s fingers sought them out for comfort as the miserable parade of ritual legalities marched past the two hour mark.

Many agreements (like Jimin’s insistence that his mother not be allowed to attend the fight and Namjoon’s pledge to financially support the Park family in the event of their alpha’s death) were settled quickly, however the sheer number of details to be solidified was overwhelming.

“I think it best if we adjourn for a short recess,” the chief elder sighed wearily and Taehyung nearly ran Yoongi over in his desperate scramble to finally use a restroom.

Jimin turned to leave, but a hand on his elbow drew him back.

“I want you to know, I did this for you as much as for the rest of them.”

His tone was low and carefully respectful, but Jimin’s wolf snapped irritably at the elder alpha’s presumption.

“What an... interesting statement to make.”

He pointedly removed Namjoon’s hand from his arm with calculated nonchalance.

“No one expected you to be chosen... Jungkook, or even Hoseok, would have been an understandable alternative, but you’ve never taken being an alpha seriously-”

“According to you,” Jimin fired back, finally allowing his voice to harden in cold fury. “I have always known and valued what I am. I simply never felt called to your version of it.”

Namjoon tilted his head in acknowledgement.

Park Jimin might not look particularly dangerous ... but for the first time, the Kim alpha considered that he may have underestimated his opponent.

“Either way - the pack does not trust you. They are not confident in your ability to lead them,”his hands fisted reflexively at his side as he considered the weight of his next words, “...but if you beat me, they will never question your strength.”

Jimin’s hands tightened into fists.

Namjoon might be an overconfident windbag, but he had a point.

He faced an uphill battle to subdue a restless pack as well as increased threats from rival clans looking to expand their own power and territory.

The challenge was a chance to establish his claim.

Or die trying.

“You think rather highly of yourself,” he chuckled and Namjoon bristled indignantly.

“I have devoted my life to the pack. I have never questioned my duty to them.” He leaned forward a bit, holding the younger alpha’s gaze with purpose. “That is why I will not hesitate to kill you.”

“And what of the Luna?” Jimin wondered in mock contemplation. “Do you think she will take kindly to the loss of her mate if you win?”

Namjoon’s jaw clenched. The Luna was clearly a sore subject.

“If I win, then you were never really her mate were you? Your entire existence boils down to nothing more than a sacred test in my destined path.”

Silence stretched heavily as the two alphas regarded one another with open hostility.

“I will fight you till the last shred of life is ripped from my body,” Jimin snarled.

A shiver ran down Namjoon’s spine, though he was far from intimidated.

“At least now you sound like an alpha,” he scoffed.

Then he was gone.

Jimin waited till the sound of the older man’s footsteps faded before slamming his fist into the table.

He needed air and to be alone with his thoughts for moment before he could civilly resume the endless negotiations.

Unfortunately, the only place offering both of those things was a cluttered balcony near the back of the building.

The room traditionally designated for luna rex provocatione proceedings had been used as a storage closet for at least the last hundred years (and therefore needed to be hastily cleared after Namjoon’s inconvenient declaration). Consequently, the room’s former contents (piles of toys from this season’s charity drive) were now strewn haphazardly across the narrow outdoor space like debris from a brightly colored bomb.

Jimin carefully navigated his way to the balcony’s wooden rail and lifted his eyes to the moon.

“Please,” he begged softly “... send me a sign.”

“If he did not hate me before, he surely does now,” you sighed, staring morosely at the lights flickering in the old chamber building. Somewhere within the bowels of that archaic fire hazard, your mate of less than twenty-four hours was negotiating a nightmare.

“This is not your fault, Luna-“

“Isn’t it?” you snapped. “That’s who I am. I’m the Luna, if I could just accept another mate without someone getting their throat ripped out, then none of this would be necessary.”

Jin sqeezed your hand sympathetically.

The council placed you under guard in a small cottage across from the elder’s chambers in order to prevent the alphas from having any contact with you. Since then you kept a constant vigil from its rickety porch, hoping to catch a glimpse of the young man whose life you had ruined.

“Would you do it then - if you could?... Would you accept another mate to spare the Park alpha?”

Bitter tears burned at the corner of your eyes.

“Yes,” you whispered, “...I think I’d do almost anything to save him.”

Comfortable silence settled between you for several minutes - until a small flutter of movement drew your gaze to the chamber balcony.

Then he walked out.

And just the sight of him was enough to slam your heart up into your throat.

Jimin...

Jin quickly turned to your guard and unleashed a wave of pheromones that would have knocked out a grizzly bear. The guard whined and abandoned her post to follow him inside without a second thought, leaving you conveniently alone.

Male omegas are a rare and dangerous breed, you observed wryly, before retuning your attention to the man across the path.

A painful ache twisted hungrily in your gut as you watched him tilt his face to the sky. Somehow the relentless beauty of his features was even more captivating in the moonlight...

Suddenly a strong breeze braided though the air around you, playing with the loose strands of your hair and carrying your scent away from the small cottage and up to the balcony where the young alpha sought solace.

Jimin’s eyes shot open as the rich, unforgettable essence of you exploded over his senses. His gaze immediately locked with yours, cutting through the distance and darkness with an intensity that left you reeling.

You could not see his face at the ascension - instead the blindfold left you burning with curiosity as your mind conjured a thousand variations of how he might have looked on you in that moment...

Yet every last one of them fell short.

You could never have imagined the naked longing - the fierce desire - that burned boldly in his regard.

A strange, desperate frustration overtook you.

He was too far away - and Namjoon was going to take him from you before you could touch him again - before you could breathe him in again-

The cruel wind continued to pull your fragrance toward Jimin like an erotic incense, yet it offered you no such gift in return. You could not discern his scent and you wanted to - needed to - with a voracity that was almost blinding.

Please...

A mournful whimper tore from your lips and Jimin’s body reacted instantly to your distress.

Suddenly he was digging through the piles of mismatched trinkets and toys on the balcony, tossing aside all manner of discarded treasures till he finally found what he was searching for.

“Jimin-hyung! Where are you? Chief elder wishes to resume-”

Jimin glanced toward door as his fingers worked frantically over the object his hands.

“I’m on my way!”

His eyes found yours one last time, then he drew back-

A muted thwack echoed a few inches from your shoulder as whatever Jimin threw embedded itself into one of the porch beams.

Your fingers trembled with anticipation as you reached forward to retrieve (what appeared to be) a pointed metal dart - probably from a wall-mounted Darts game someone donated...

A length of braided cloth was tied tightly to the shaft and you recognized it immediately as a praesidium bracelet.

Soothing waves of Jimin’s scent drifted up from the fabric where it had rubbed repeatedly against the glands in his wrist.

Your body calmed instantly. Cold desperation gave way to the soft warmth of tenderness.

He knew.

He knew what you needed and he found a way to send it to you.

Your hand closed tightly over the bracelet as you crumpled to your knees and sobbed.

A gentle knock sounded at Namjoon’s door and a familiar figure slipped inside.

“...Yunli?”

Namjoon blinked for several moments in confusion before closing his evening read to approach her.

“Yunli... why - what are you doing here? It’s late - the ritual set to begin at sunrise.” He glanced at the door behind her, “Is Yoongi with you?”

She shook her head.

“My brother doesn’t know I’m here.”

Namjoon’s eyes widened as he considered all the ways his best friend’s younger sister sneaking into his house (in the middle of the night no less) could go horribly wrong.

“Ah. Well... that’s ...not good,” he mumbled, running his hand over his face. “Are-um - are you here to wish me luck for tomorrow?”

He reached for a glass of water to soothe his suddenly dry throat.

“No. Frankly I hope Park Jimin beats you to a bloody pulp.”

Water sprayed comically out of Namjoon’s mouth as he began to cough violently.

“What?!” *wheeze* “Why?!”

She offered him a sad smile.

“You know why, Kim Namjoon.”

He did know why.

Yunli had loved him (or believed she loved him) since she was a little girl.

He sighed heavily.

“Yunli, we’ve been over this-”

“One week. The change comes to me in one week-”

“You’re Yoongi’s sister-”

“I’ll be twenty years old, and for the last time I’m not your sister-”

“Goddess above, Yunli!” he shouted, “You’re just a child!”

Yunli’s hands gripped the collar of his shirt and yanked him down to her level.

“I am not a child!” she growled.

Then her mouth was on his and every single thought he ever had disappeared.

There was only her.

Heat poured through him like heavy syrup as his senses surrendered one by one. His arms wrapped around her without the slightest hesitation, as if their sole purpose was draw her in.

Sweet... Oh goddess, she’s sweet.

Yunli whined needily and a possessive growl rumbled from his chest in response.

Then she was pulling back - wrenching herself away from him with an anguished sob.

Bitter tears flowed freely down her impossibly beautiful face and Namjoon - who spent the majority of his life barely acknowledging his heart - suddenly felt it shatter.

“You should have waited for me,” she whispered.

“Yunli-I-” he tried calling out to her, but it was no use.

She was already gone.

“Are you sure you have everything you need?”

Jimin offered his second a distracted smile and nodded. His room looked the same as it did the morning of the ascension, yet his entire life was different...

“You were great today, Taehyung. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Tae felt his chest swell with pride. He didn’t want to think about what sunrise might bring, but he was determined to serve his old friend well.

For as long as he could.

“I don’t know about that,” he chuckled, recalling that he fell asleep on his feet for three entire terms before anyone noticed. “You’re a surprisingly ruthless negotiator. I barely contributed.”

“I wasn’t alone though...” Jimin whispered, “and when Namjoon first issued the challenge... I thought I might be.”

Taehyung gulped, pushing back the oppressive sorrow settling in his gut in favor of some levity.

“You - uh - you actually missed the wildest part of the whole day.”

“...I did?”

“Yeah it was bizarre. Did you notice the table was different after our break?”

Jimin shrugged. His thoughts had been... elsewhere at that point.

“We couldn’t find you at first, so you missed the whole ordeal but - when we all came back to the room, that big oak table was split in half.”

Hello my precious readers! If you would like to be added to the taglist, let me know in the comments.

(If you are already on the taglist, I will automatically tag you in all future chapters, you do not need to ask to be tagged again.)

Please please please PLEASE let me know what you think! This chapter was HARD and I genuinely aganized over it. Your feedback and support are what kept me pushing though. Truly. I would love to hear from you! I treasure every word of feedback like diamonds.

End Note: Yoonji was mentioned earlier in the story. She is Yoongi and Yunli’s cousin. Yunli and Yoonji are separate characters.

[cheekygreenty]

Little Witch - Part 7

The Darkling x Reader

Much to your dismay, Aleksander got dragged away during dinner to tend to emergency war business with the King. You understood though, it was all part of his job, it’ll be yours soon too. You needed to get him alone to speak about your position in the Palace and Second-Army.

You itched to get back to your old post but from what you've heard through the years, Aleksander has never given the title to anybody since your 'death'. Perhaps he won't give it to you now even though you're more than willing to reprise it. He's very capable to do it all himself and has proven so before.

As you were approaching your room, you had passed Alina and a red-haired girl....wearing a white kefta? You had never seen one like that. And you made sure to ask somebody next time. You were curious. You laughed to yourself. Curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back. Perhaps a white kefta for myself would give me satisfaction.

*****

You woke early the next day and trained with Botkin. He was surprised at your level of understanding of Shu and was then even more shocked at your combat skills. You two talked about your adventures in Shu Han and he seemed to enjoy it from what you could gather, he wasn’t too expressive.

He had trouble keeping up with your fighting too and your ego grew bigger. You could seriously pack a good punch or two. You had left in a hurry just before some other Grisha got there, to which Botkin said

'Leader never trains with subjects. Go.'

The rest of the day was spent training on your own in your chambers. Practicing control and patience. Your powers seemed to dwindle when you came back to the Little Palace, perhaps it was to protect you in a way. You didn't understand. But sure enough, you were back to normal now. And you had to keep it that way.

You had dinner alone in your room, too busy to go eat with everyone else. This, however, didn't stop you from putting on one of your new keftas. Red was the colour today. It was a little showy for a quick walk around the palace, but who cared. Definitely not you.

You wanted to closely inspect the Palace. Visit the rooms you hadn't gotten a chance to see yet. You walked by the Corporalki rooms as well as the Materialki workshops, checking in with random Grisha that skipped dinner just like you did. You even visited the children, young Grisha with much potential. It would do them well to meet their future leader.

You walked down to your room but a nagging feeling made you stop. You had been thinking of Baghra ever since you saw Alina leave her hut. Without much of a second thought, you strode back down the stairs and outside into the freezing, cold night. The oprichniki refused to leave your side, at the Darkling’s orders you assumed, but it didn’t bother you too much.

You were shivering as you quickly walked in the direction of the dingy hut, knowing you would be melting by the time you stepped in. You didn't knock, you didn't have much care for manners when it came to Baghra.

The heat hit you like a pillow in the face and your eyes watered for a brief second. Saints, how can she live like this. You rubbed your eyes and squinted to look for small woman.

'Baghra, woohoo, Guess who's back' You said obnoxiously.

'Shut the door you fool.' What else had you expected?

'Are you not surprised to see me?'

You spotted her sitting in front of her fire, poking at it aimlessly in her faded black clothing.

'As much as I'd hoped you dead and 10 feet below ground, nothing ever seems to go my way'

'Ouch. Why the sour mood?' You walked over to where she was but the wretched woman held out the glowing poker to stop you.

'Don't get any closer to me you dirty little witch' she barked.

'Baghra I really don't care what you think so you can stop insulting me' You laughed and crossed your arms.

'I don't care for you....and your showy dresses either. Are you the Queen? cause last time I heard you were Grisha, not royalty. Get over yourself'

I hate her.

'You assume I can't be both.'

She scoffed. You couldn't hold back your anger at her. It came out of nowhere.

'You should be glad I haven't thrown you in that fire yet'

'You never belonged here Y/N. Aleksander is enough. We can't have two of your kind running the place or we'll all end up dead.'

'You would have me die and your son suffer?'

'He'd get over it. He did get over it. Eventually. Moved onto the next girl.'

That stung but you bit your tongue and moved on.

'You never made sure I was dead, so seems it wasn't your priority.'

'I thought you would wither away on your own- ' I almost did '-get a grave if you were lucky .'

'Well too bad, I'm here now and I'm stronger than ever. Perhaps I should thank you?'

'Don't bring me into this.'

'Too late.'

She laughed.

'Of course you went running to him and tattled. You could never do anything without him could you, stupid girl, why don't I teach you how to wisen up a bit.'

At this point, you had had enough. You listened to her heart, her breath, and slowly brought your hands together behind your back.

She slumped in her chair, clutching her chest.

'Y/N' She was wheezing for air. 'stop. please.'

You let go.

'Baghra, Please don't underestimate me. It's not fun being on my bad side. You should know' With that you left.

------------------------------------------------------------

Part 8

*I KNOW you all wanted smut, but there's still so much to uncover about y/n's return. I'M SORRY DONT HATE ME. btw if you're enjoying this so far, plz tell me!!!!!!!!!!!

@theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @0-artemis @lostysworld @xceafh @fire-in-her-veinz @cleverzonkwombatsludge @wizardwheezes @aleksanderwh0r3 @tomhollandisabae @hotleaf-juice @justmesadgirl

[1plus1kiyoomi]

Chapter 9: Plans

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“Hey, love. I saw this Tiktok...” You sigh heavily as you hear the words come out of Kuroo’s mouth. Every time he shows you a video from that app, he follows it up with a, “let’s do it.”

“What is it this time?” Your eyebrows are furrowed, expressing your disagreement already. You’ve been peacefully relaxing on the bed and your husband really wants to destroy that peace of yours.

“So you rate my exes, and I rate yours. Out of 10,” Kuroo says and you squint your eyes at him in suspicion. There has to be something behind the sudden interest in remaking it.

“Why?” is all you can say at his request.

Kuroo shrugs, a smug look on his face. “Why not?”

He takes out his laptop and opens a social media platform. Placing his laptop on his lap, he pats the space beside him, a sign that he wants you beside him. You sit beside him and he immediately types out a name.

“This was my first girlfriend back in middle school.” He describes and clicks on one of the girl’s posts.

“She’s so pretty. Is that her kid?” You point at the child his ex is holding in picture. Kuroo nods. “So was she nice? I have to rate her through her personality.”

“She was nice. But she left me for a college student,” Kuroo explains.

“Oh, so she’s a victim?” You snicker, and Kuroo chuckles at your statement. “A 6/10. She's pretty and she looks nice. But minus points for dating a college student while she was in middle school.”

He proceeds to search for his next ex. “I know her,” you say as soon as you see the picture. “I was the one who planned her wedding a year ago. I believe she gave birth just a month ago.”

“She did. She was my upperclassman in Nekoma when we dated. I think I was in my last year of middle school and she was graduating high school,” Kuroo elaborates and you laugh. “What?”

“You’re also a victim.” With that, Kuroo starts laughing with you. It takes some time before the two of you stop giggling like kids.

“Since I know her, a 7/10. She was really polite when I was planning her wedding,” you explain while panting, recovering from your fit of laughter.

“This is the last one,” Kuroo says as he searches and you look at him in shock, not believing him.

“You only dated thrice?” You ask him and he nods proudly. “But you did have a lot of flings so still a bad boy,” you tease and Kuroo rolls his eyes. He shows you his screen and you look at the girl in the picture intently.

You glance at him and then his ex, and then him again, then back to the screen. “You’re lying.”

“About what?”

“Are you sure you dated her?” You point at woman at the screen.

“Yes. Ask all of my friends. They’re witnesses.”

“You dated a famous idol...”

“Was an idol,” he corrects you. “She’s quitting the industry because she’s pregnant.”

“I love her group’s songs. I give her a 10/10. But I still can’t believe you managed to pull someone like her. Kenma said that you weren’t famous amongst girls in high school...” you state, remembering his best friend’s words when you had dinner together just a few nights ago.

Kuroo simply shrugs, “I guess she really liked me then.” He lays his gadget on your lap, waiting for you to type in. You become nervous. How are you supposed to tell him that you’ve only dated seriously once in your life? And it’s someone he sees quite often in your workplace.

“I only dated once,” you tell him calmly, trying to conceal your shaky fingers as you type. Pressing enter, your eyes immediately look away. “You know him, right? He’s our cake maker at work.”

“How was he as a boyfriend?” Kuroo simply asks and you nod nonchalantly. “He seems like a nice guy whenever I see him at your office.”

“Really sweet. Baked me goods everyday and even brought me lunch boxes,” you reply rather confidently. “We dated back in high school.”

“9/10.” Kuroo rates with a pout. He knew he was going to get jealous, but he still dug his own grave for his. His plan being:

‘To subtly hint that he wants a baby.’

All of his exes now have children, and he is not competing with them at any means, but maybe you’ll get an idea about his baby fever if he shows you that most people at your age have children.

Now that his Plan A has failed, he’ll have to proceed to his Plan B.

Kuroo patiently waits for you at his car, ready for your first date after a long time. As he sings along with the song on the radio, he scrolls through his Instagram and sees Sakusa’s post about her daughter.

“Must be nice to have a kid,” Kuroo sighs. Seconds later, he realizes what he said and puts his phone down. “No. No. No. I can’t feel this way yet. It’s too early. But we’re already in our mid-20s so a kid won’t be weird. No... Does she even want kids? My kids?”

A knock on the car window disrupts his soliloquy. He turns his head to the glass and sees you waving outside. He quickly unlocks the door, allowing you to enter. “Hi, love. Who were you talking to?”

“I was talking to Kenma,” he reasons before he leans in to capture your lips into a greeting kiss. “How was work?”

“It was tiring. The Kitas sent an invitation by the way,” you answer as you pull away from him. “It’s for the triplets’ first birthday.”

“Should we buy their gifts today?” Kuroo asks you, starting the engine of the car. “I think we’ll find something while roaming around. What about you? You said you had to buy something.”

“Bikinis,” you say nonchalantly and don’t see Kuroo’s eyebrow raise from your response.

“Are you going somewhere?”

“I forgot to tell you. I’m going to Okinawa with my high school friends next week. You know them, right? Makki, Mattsun, Iwa, and Oikawa,” you respond and Kuroo becomes silent, not knowing how to react. He doesn’t care that you’re going with guys, but how did you forget to tell him something important?

The ride is serene. Kuroo’s hand not leaving your thigh the whole time. Your hand is on top of his, your fingers tracing the protruded veins in his arms. Landing on his ring finger, your eyes scanned the body part. You don’t have a wedding band yet. The two of you have never thought of getting a pair.

The two of you arrive at your destination so get out of the car. Kuroo takes your hand immediately, sliding both of your hands into his jacket’s pocket. You smile at the romantic gesture, something you’re yet to get used to.

“Should we buy your stuff first?” Kuroo questions, looking down at you. Nodding, you lead him to a bikini boutique.

As soon as you enter, Kuroo closes his eyes. The store you entered doesn’t only sell bikinis, but lingerie as well. He has to keep his lids shut or his imagination will go everywhere. Noticing how wary he is about the surrounding, you smirk.

You hook a finger on his collar and pull him down. “Choose anything you’d like to see me in.”

After the not so quick shopping trip at the garment store, you have noticed how fidgety Kuroo is. He wouldn’t stop squeezing your hand and giving you cheeks kisses. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just excited to see you in this,” he reasons, lifting the paper bag with sets of lingerie he has chosen. You hum, your attention going back to the racks of baby clothing in front of you.

While you’re focused on the baby items in front of you, Kuroo is panicking. In his mind, he’s about to explode. You in lingerie + his baby fever= a kink he thought he’ll never have. He’s trying so hard not to think about your mini me’s, but seeing the tiny pieces of garments is making it hard for him.

“My love, the triplets are boys. But knowing the Kitas, they wouldn’t mind dressing up their sons in that dress you’re holding,” you point and Kuroo snaps back to his senses. He looks down and sees that he is holding onto a yellow dress with ribbons and ruffles. He didn’t even know how he got the dress on his hands.

“Oh,” he chuckles awkwardly, putting the dress back on the rack. “I just thought it was cute.” You raise an eyebrow at him in confusion and he forces out a laugh. “It would look cute on Sakusa’s daughter. The two of us are kind of close.”

“Really? I always see him post about her. She would look very cute in that. Should we buy it?” Your confusion about his actions are thrown away by his reason. He sighs in relief as you look away, the dress now in his cart.

‘Our daughter would look cuter,’ Kuroo thinks and he smacks his cheek, causing you to look at him in shock. It was a rather loud and heavy smack. “Mosquito.”

His Plan B is a fail.

You’re eating lunch together the next day at your office as usual. It’s quiet before he flashes his phone screen in front of you, showing you a picture of three familiar small boys. “Look at the triplets.” You continue to eat after taking a look at the picture, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. Kuroo hums happily. “Aren’t they cute?” You only nod to his question.

“Look at Sakusa’s daughter. I met her last time and she’s such a charmer,” Kuroo narrates, letting out a giggle. The interaction replaying in his head. The interaction that caused his sudden baby fever.

It was a busy day at work since the Olympic team had to take their profile and poster pictures. Kuroo was talking to Bokuto when a child suddenly latched onto the spiker’s leg.

“My favorite teammate, you’re here!” Bokuto beamed and picked the child up. As she rested in his forearm, she looked at Kuroo in curiosity. Normally, children would get scared of him, but she wasn’t, which made Kuroo happy.

“Hi. My name’s Kuroo. What’s your name?” Kuroo asked the girl. She smiled at him before answering.

“Kia! Do you have a girlfriend?” Kia asked, taking Kuroo aback. It’s not everyday that a 4 year old would ask you about your relationship status.

“I don’t have a girlfriend, but I do have a wife,” Kuroo replied, which made the little pout.

“Since you only have a wife, I can be your girlfriend,” Kia proclaimed. Kuroo smiled at her statement. The girl suddenly made him think what his daughter would be like if he ever gets to have one.

“I’m sorry but my wife would be upset if I have a girlfriend, so I can’t be your boyfriend,” Kuroo explained to her, hoping she’ll learn something from it. You could subtly teach them about what’s right and wrong at a young age.

“Then, I’ll date your child, father-in-law,” Kia claimed which Kuroo patted her head for.

“I’ll remember your words, future daughter-in-law.”

“What are you smiling for?” You ask Kuroo and he looks up to you, his attention now on you.

‘It’s now or never. This is the perfect chance.’ Kuroo thinks, placing his chin on the palm of his hand. “I was just thinking about how cute our children would be.” You ignore his words and proceed to clean up your lunch box. As result, Kuroo frowns. He mirrors your actions, keeping quiet. Maybe it was wrong to mention it.

Your secretary knocks on your door before announcing that your client is already waiting outside. Kuroo put back the chair back to its proper place before walking over behind the table to give you a quick hug. You can feel his sadness radiating off him and you’re sure it’s from your silence.

His baby fever wasn’t unnoticed. In fact, you knew about it the moment you saw him scrolling through baby videos. He wasn’t very subtle about it, too. From showing his exes, to bringing you to the baby store, to sending you pictures of babies, to mentioning children all the time, you definitely knew about his baby fever.

But you don’t want a baby yet. You had just gotten steady recently, and having a child will wreck that steadiness for sure. You want to keep him to yourself as much as you can, and a child will take your time with each other away. Yet, you don’t know how to tell him that, because he’s determined to have one as soon as possible.

“I’m leaving now. I’ll pick you up later,” Kuroo speaks. He plants a kiss on your forehead before turning away. The way he turned his back at you, the way he frowned a little, it broke your heart. So you grab his hand and pull him back towards you. “Yes, my love?”

“Should we start trying for a child?” You look up to him with shaky eyes, and he saddens at your expression. He wraps his arms around you, your head falling onto his abdomen, while his hand pets the back of your head.

“Love, I’m not asking for a child immediately, so don’t get pressured. Just take my baby fever as a promise that I want to start a family with you and only you,” he reassures you, but you know he’s partly lying about it. Kuroo is a man who doesn’t give up until gets what he wants.

Kuroo’s Plan C has failed. He has no choice but to do his Plan D. (Will be posted soon 😉 if you know, you know.)

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Facts:

Fevers turn on the body's immune system. They help the body fight infection. Normal fevers between 100° and 104° F (37.8° - 40° C) are good for sick children.

Fevers only need to be treated if they cause discomfort. Most fevers don't cause discomfort until they go above 102° or 103° F (39° or 39.5° C).

Most fevers from infection don't go above 103° or 104° F (39.5°- 40° C). They rarely go to 105° or 106° F (40.6° or 41.1° C). While these are "high" fevers, they also are harmless ones.

Fevers that don't come down to normal can be caused by viruses or bacteria. The response to fever medicines tells us nothing about the cause of the infection.

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Taglist: Still can’t tag smh T^T the app keeps crashing every time i tag more than 5 people 😭