#when I was young I was terrified of dogs but not because I thought they'd bite me

[tearlessrain]

general [oral] vore rating? [with or without digestion]

No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes |FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know |

I absolutely get why people are into it, but I think my feelings about vore are prime evidence against the idea that exposure to certain types of media will change your preferences/corrupt you because I both have a furaffinity account and made it through tumblr's vore meme era and I've just been like "hm. interesting but no thank you" the entire time.

[envy-of-the-apple]

Okay,, you have to let us know are the eggs any characters Specifically like megumi or itadori? I bet they would be clingy mommas boys.

Love you crumbs you give us and happy late birthday 🫶🏻

awww ty bestie okay okay okay holdonholdon

You'd name the hatchlings. Idk if I mentioned this or not but in the excerpt, the reader names Suguru and Satoru cuz they didn't have a concept of language yet. I think once they had a general concept of human language, they'd use their human names for each other just like you do.

When Nobara, Yuji and Megumi hatch, they'd definitely hang onto you the most. It's mostly because you are the most caring out of the throuple you were forced into. It makes sense for you to care about them, right? After all, human babies are pretty helpless and that's how far your knowledge extends. And they're adorable, with big round eyes, making cute little chitters. You get a tiny bit protective of them, especially considering the other two nagas don't carry the same sentiment. Suguru is clearly a believer of tough love and you've caught Satoru trying to put one of the eggs in his mouth (you're pretty sure he was joking...but you arent risking it when they're this tiny). They're small right now, but naga hatchlings grow up fast. They're practically your height in just a couple of years.

I feel personally, Yuji would be the (most outwardly) clingiest. He's affectionate, more dog than snake, sometimes. He's the largest of his siblings. When he was smaller, his favorite thing to do was wrap himself around your shoulders and you'd carry him around. He can't do that now, but he has other ways of spending time with you. He 'hunts' with you the most, assisting you with collecting berries and fruit. Apart from you, he'd bond with Satoru more. They share a similar personality, both are easily amused.

Megumi would be the shyest, but he loves you just as much as his siblings do. Much like his fathers, he enjoys the warmth you provide and would love cuddling with you in the languid hours of the evening. He doesn't do that much when he's older, but he's still interested in spending time with you! He likes quality time, the most. Eventually, during your time on the island, you'd have set up a tiny garden. He'd help with that. He and Suguru would have lots of similarities, so you'd often catch them together. They'd both help with your garden, helping cultivate the seeds and soil. It's not natural for them, but they understand you're different from nagafolk

But I think Nobara would be the one you're the closest to. She hatched the first. She's also different from her brothers. Again, in the naga species, the females become something akin to sirens. Slowly, you'd notice how different she is compared to her brothers, how much she enjoys the water, how dry her skin gets when she stays on land for too long. She'd evolve differently. Webbed hands, her tail would be more lithe, finned.

Because she's so different, Satoru and Suguru don't have much of an interest in her. Again, much like reptiles, nagas are fairly independent at a young age. Satoru and Suguru allow the hatchlings to stick around because you'd pitch a fit otherwise and they try to keep their mate happy. Once it becomes clear Nobara is aquatically gifted, you'd be terrified of the thought of her being out alone at sea, so you'd often go out with her, not caring how pruny your fingers get. Because of how much time you spend with her, I think she'd be the most interested in humans. She'd ask you about human culture, human customs. Every once in a while, she'd go out and collect remnants of humanity, clothes, trinkets, jewelry, anything she can find off the ocean floor. She'd sit on the rocky shore, holding out each one, demanding you to explain them to her.

You wouldn't dare mention how much you fear her fathers, but I feel Nobara would be the first to realize that you don't want to be here. She can see it in your eyes, the longing whenever you're explaining another human trinket. She wants you to be happy, but if you go back to the humans....would you still have time for her? Would you still braid her hair? Take care of her? Love her?

In the end, Nobara is the most similar to her fathers. She'd keep you on the island too.

ughhhhhh i should just write that chaptered naga fic already this is getting ridiculous.

[andalon-historian]

People took the discovery of shapeshifters surprisingly well.

We only figured it out because they revert back to opossums when they die. There were rumors, before phones; people would *swear* this roadkill used to be human! There was the one case of a poor woman who tearfully confessed to the vehicular manslaughter of a young boy, by which she meant a dead opossum. Phones proved it, though; one video of someone getting hit by a car and turning into a rodent could be faked, but hundreds? Scientists investigated, and the gig was up.

They weren't all that dangerous, though. Terrifying, oh yes; the knowledge that someone you pass in the street might not be human? The worry of what they might do? But they're still just animals; they can't talk, they can't use tools, they don't really understand what's going on. It turns out that was good enough to fool us for millennia until we started hitting people with cars-- and even then, until we started recording it.

The conspiracy theorists went wild with it, of course, but it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be; shapeshifters are real! What else could they be doing!? But it turns out that didn't really move the needle on how many people are susceptible to that sort of thing. The bigger issue was the extermination campaigns.

Distrust spiked, but people could prove their humanity easily enough-- happily enough, claiming not to be a shapeshifter is indeed evidence that you are not a shapeshifter. That didn't stop them from hating shapeshifters, though. Governments gave in to people who couldn't deal with living in a world where animals looked like people, and started rounding them up. It only lasted a few months before the murders were too many, though; turns out normalizing shooting something that looks like a young boy in the head had some unintended consequences.

People calmed down because they had to, at least the people in the cities did. And you can't stay terrified forever. People in rural areas kept up their "shoots possums on sight" signs, but idk how much I believe them. Looking like a little kid is a *really* good defense.

It's also a good survival mechanism; the shapeshifters could turn into anyone, but they mostly turn into dirty little kids. At some point they learned that if they wander around the gutters looking like dirty kids, people will give them money to buy food. The good news was, turns out there are fewer starving orphans than we thought-- or rather, fewer than we thought were human. I was worried they'd cut funding to orphanages, but in my city the opposite happened; people go out to parks to feed the shapeshifters like they used to feed birds, throwing bread to the scrambling opossum kids. I used to hate that. It's disturbing. But now I think it's kinda cute.

They do still get killed though, and not just by cars. There aren't any laws against hunting opossums, after all; it might have been different if the corpses stayed human, but for some reason everyone's shock disappears when the kid you just shot turns back into a rodent.

Animal rights groups thought they'd be able to turn the shapeshifters into a mascot, like a supercharged version of "you wouldn't eat your dog." You wouldn't eat a kid. They were mostly wrong; there are definitely more vegans now than before, but that isn't saying very much. I guess it's easier for most people to dehumanize than to humanize; I guess it wasn't the shape of the creature that did it.

[vitani-carnis]

Can't play Cyberpunk to do Vitani's canon ending of PL (helping Songbird and feeling betrayed despite feeling it on the horizon). So just giving my thoughts on siding with Reed or whatev! TW: for suicide in this (this is such a doomed timeline, but it's not real, it's not real and it can't hurt me)

And firstly, the ending for Vitani devastated me. It's not canon, it's not real, no one can make it real!! (But for the V I did give this ending too, she'd be okay with it, just not my bbygrl). To have her basically become nothing again? To have the cycle of wanting to be stronger so that she wouldn't be so terrified of the city, the world in general, to so desperately not be at the bottom rung of people in NC... To only become it after losing not only Johnny, but her children (pets), her things, her seemingly friends, her ability to protect herself (which tbh the cyberware would've been something they could live with if they only had a few of the other things). There is nothing, except to become an NUSA dog. And despite everything, they can't go back on their ideals. In fact, the only way out, despite everyone telling them to move on, is to die; because Vitani is just incapable of moving on from such sudden changes (In their canon end, if they never found Johnny beyond the Blackwall, which they'd spend years on, it'd take even more years to stop that longing, and they'd never be the same, always haunted).

And speaking of??? The helicopter???? Omg, firstly, as soon as V realized that whatever this surgery was would wipe their boy, they would call off everything, for the record. But in the .000000001 percent chance, in the scarcest of timelines to exist where they did? Every time they'd feel so guilty for it, because they can't be the cause of another friend's death, this time willingly ignoring their requests about it too. This is preventable, and they aren't preventing it (in all options given, V asks 'could things have been different?' because they are sweetheart, dw). And him saying V's name? V saying they'd do anything for him (and they still can't do it, sadly, it's a tragedy that despite everything he wants for V, it's asking too much of them), how the doc knocks V out after reading an emotional spike? I know for a fact Vitani's last emotion felt, was fear, because they'd never see him again.

And speaking of another person V will never see again (because they killed her), Songbird! Before my game crashed and junk I did the option where you kill her, and I know, this is really depressing and suicide heavy (it's kinda built into Vitani's character to be so mournful and ready to die); but holy shit they would've been so enraged at Myers and Reed.

Before that though, I want to say, this is the second time V would be requesting someone's sui request essentially. First Joshua, whom they cried at Jill's grave (Jill, is a character essential to V's backstory, and was someone they viewed as a 'good person', and V is mourning about how she'd be disgusted with them, how they did change, and change for the worst), and now Songbird. They cried just a little more for Song too than Joshua, because it was like looking in a mirror.

Now obviously they are made that way narratively, same thing with Reed and Johnny (really love how that run is where they both acknowledge it basically, not technically in canon, but in Vitani's canon). But V saw themself in Songbird as a young adult just chilling in her house, hanging with friends (not that V knows what that's like), getting in too deep and paying the price. But no moment did they see themself than when So Mi was begging for death, how she said that she tried, and she was just too weak. And it reminded Vitani of when Jill first died, and all seemed hopeless and... They couldn't do it. They couldn't kill off the one human thing about them, survival instincts. And sometimes V wonders about it at this point narratively, how they wished they could've, things never would've gotten to this point.

And so they agree, because how could they not? In reality Songbird would never get the help promised from Myers and Reed, she'd be some prisoner, slowly losing herself every day. It's a fate worse than death to Vitani.

Which is why they're so pissed when Reed and Myers can so easily say they could've convinced Song otherwise, that she should've lived. Partially because she knows Myer's plans and Reed's loyalty, but also because they've had the luxury of never feeling so hopeless. At least, that's what Vitani thinks.

Also I HATED that fucking robot. This is just me talking. Cynosure? More like sayonara, never playing that section again. (It wasn't particularly scary tbh, I like horror elements, and don't get me wrong, it was cool, I just hated that it wasn't always clear on where to go so I'd get stuck and frustrated for a minute.)

Okay that's all! If you read all this, love you, bye!

[taleswritten]

Headcanon - Clive's abuse. VERY IMPORTANT HC! Clive's abuse started before his capture. We all know this. Ana was cruel to him, she treated him like he was trash. We see a lot of verbal abuse towards young Clive and I think it instilled a lot of self worth issues in him.

After all, it's his fault mommy does love him, right? He was not good enough to be chosen. I'm sure he cried himself to sleep, hoping one day he would be good enough for his mother.

He wanted nothing more than his mothers love. He wanted the mother who once upon a time loved him back. She made him feel worthless, unlovable. This is where his self worth issues stemmed from.

However, they are made a millions time worse after his capture. Clive was a prideful and stubborn child at just fifteen years old. A child who was then full of grief, anger and hatred. I do not think he obeyed so easily.

He reacted physically to his captors, reacting in any way he can. This earned several beatings. Leaving him black and blue and bloody. Sometimes, he found it difficult to even move. He was treated like trash, like the scum of the earth, called all kinds of terrible names. Trash, idiot, scum, stupid, bastard and names much worse than that.

They mocked him. Mocked how he was once a noble and now he was nothing more than a dog, shacked to the Imperial Army. They told him he should be grateful for being where he is instead of a life of servitude somewhere else.

He believes the only reason he was fed as well as he was is because they needed him to have his strength for training. Long and grueling training sessions until he was bloody and sore and exhausted.

They poked and prodded at him, using his anger to their advantage until he caught on.

He tried to escape once, it did not end well. It led him into getting whipped, he has some scars across his about five lashes across his back from the lashing. He never tried to escape again, they had beat him into submission, his self worth and perception of life ruined.

It was useless. There was no escape. Not when they were all so much more skilled than he was. So he bought his time, with every intention of getting stronger and stronger until he could find a way out. He had to bare through it, grit his teeth, and keep going. Beat into submission his earlier ears like a dog until he rolled over and did what was asked of him. They mocked him for that, too.

None of it prepared him for being branded, the pain was excruciating, unlike anything he had ever felt before. Sometimes, to this day, he can still feel the pain.

There was no one in this world he could count on except for him. There was no one who was going to help him. This is where his need to go at it alone comes from (combined with his thinking that he doesn't deserve help).

Then, over the years of his adult life he was still treated terribly. People would look at him in disdain, scoff at him, and it would remind him of the way his mother treated him. That made it worse. They thought him dirty, unclean, an abomination. Much like Ana did.

This is why his self worth issues is so terrible. This is why he is so terrified of letting people down - because he's not worthy. He's not worthy of being with anyone romantically.

This is also why he flinches away from touch from time to time, for he has only been treated with such cruelty. Never gentleness and kindness.

He's not worthy of being a leader and yet he tries because he knows what it's like to be branded and to want out of that life. He wants to do what no one did for him - save the branded from a life like that.

He had begun to give up on the idea of freedom until that scene with Jill where he had turned on all of them to protect her.

We see him talk about how all he had known was death for the longest time which is why I think he was the one that they often turned to, to kill. If they wanted something done, they'd send him for his swordsmanship was far greater than most. He has taken countless lives without question, without asking why, and he feels guilt over each and every one of them.

Clive dissociates big time. You don’t go through over 13 years of trauma without doing that. It started when he was smol on really bad days where he couldn’t really handle Ana’s abuse. It was not often as a child but as he grew older and was shoved into the imperial army, it got more and more frequent due to trauma and abuse, etc.

He still does dissociate to this day when things get too much for him. it’s not easy to pull him out of it but usually a grounding touch, a hand to the cheek from partners especially, can bring him back to reality. Maybe not right away but touch does bring him out of it.

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

Cynophobia - n., pathological fear of dogs

Lan Wangji never asks - he isn't the type to pry information out of others that they are not yet ready or willing to share - but Wei Ying decides to tell him anyway. Because Wei Ying loves him and trusts him and feels so safe and comfortable and welcome around him that there's no reason not to open up.

"Remember that hunting dog we saw in the markets today? The one you chased away?"

"Yes."

"Lan Zhan, aren't you curious to know why I'm so scared of dogs?"

"If Wei Ying wanted to tell me, he would have. I do not want to cause distress by asking."

Wei Ying smiles at his husband, so poised and pretty and his, moonlight contouring his features in a silvery glow. Wei Ying could spend the rest of his life just looking at Lan Zhan and he would be happiest - luckily, he gets to do a lot more than that (and he did, if the mess of sheets in their bed is anything to go by).

"I want to tell you."

"I will listen."

Wei Ying rests his head on Lan Zhan's chest, hearing his heartbeat underneath his skin. His eyes close with a sigh.

"So, as you know, when I was little, I lived on the streets for a while, until Uncle Jiang found me. It was... difficult, as you can imagine. I could handle a lot, even when I was very young, so I learned to cope with the cold and the loneliness and the boredom... but the worst thing was hunger, I couldn't deal with that one very well."

Wei Ying opens his eyes, moves one of his hands to trace random shapes over Lan Zhan's chest.

"Sometimes people gave me some food from the stalls or the innkeepers would let me have leftovers... but that didn't happen every day. And even when it did, it wasn't always just kindness. They'd make fun of me or insult me or try to make me do all sorts of tricks, like a circus animal."

Lan Zhan brought Wei Ying even closer now, leaving a kiss at the top of his head for comfort. If he could find them, Lan Zhan would make these people grovel for forgiveness in front of his Wei Ying - but he can't, and they aren't important now anyway. Because Lan Zhan would never let them or anyone hurt his beloved ever again, so whoever they were... he could only hope fate treated them as they deserved.

"But most often, I'd have to eat whatever I could find on the street, whatever people threw away... watermelon rinds and that sort of thing. But I wasn't the only one hungry."

There is a pause. Lan Zhan finds it appropriate to better drape the thin blanket over the two of them and maneuver himself and Wei Ying into a proper embrace, letting Wei Ying hide into his chest as Lan Zhan envelops him completely.

"You do not have to continue if it makes you upset." Lan Zhan says, voice soft, kissing Wei Ying's forehead.

"No, it's just I..." a deep breath, "...never really talked about this stuff before. Back then, everyone knew I was scared of dogs and that was it, they didn't ask and I didn't say anything... So it's a bit weird, you see?"

"Mn..."

"Anyway, I wasn't scared at first. My parents loved dogs, I remember my mom would always feed the strays wherever we went and dad showed me how to pet them. But my parents were gone... and I didn't know how to fight. The dogs did, though."

Another sigh. "I don't really remember specific incidents, just bits and pieces... I got bitten many times trying to get some scraps of meat or anything, really... it got to a point where it seemed like wherever I went, dogs were waiting for me, ready to steal the little food I had and then kill me to eat me too."

Another pause. Outside, soft rain pitter-pattered against the roofs and the paved pathways in a slow rhythm.

"That feeling really stuck with me. Every time I saw or heard a dog, no matter how strong I became as I grew older, I always returned to feeling like a cornered, terrified kid about to be hunted by dogs and torn apart for their next meal."

Lan Zhan could only hold his beloved tighter, his heart hurting at the thought of Wei Ying having suffered so much hardship starting at such a young age.

An airy laugh. "I'm really glad people in Yiling didn't have many dogs, the fearsome Yiling Patriarch would have become the laughing stock of the cultivation world if word got out of my fear."

Lan Zhan ran a hand through Wei Ying's hair, "That is not something amusing."

"Hm... to me, to us, it isn't. But if we were other people, maybe it would have been."

"It is good that we are not."

[lubdubsworld]

Blackberry Winters.

Part 1

Check part one for warnings 💔

Part 2.

Namjoon stared at his mother, her words registering but not quite sinking in. He blinked, a couple of times and swallowed dryly, trying to gather his wits that felt like they'd been scattered to the four winds. There was a dull ringing in his ear, a feeling of impending horror and he had to fight to bring himself back to the present.

"She is...?" He couldn't even say it. Somewhere in the back of his mind he realised the irony of it. It wasn't supposed to makes him feel that way. The reason he had taken her to bed was for this : a heir to take over the duties of the head alpha after him. And yet, he knew that he couldn't just ignore all the things that would come with having a pregnant mate. All the added responsibility.

At the heart of it , Namjoon was exhausted.

He had been trained for this position but it didn't make it any easier. His wolf yearned for solitude and serenity, peaceful quiet where he could contemplate life and all its mysteries but the duties and responsibilities kept piling up. He had no time to indulge in such whimsical fantasies. From daybreak to sundown, he drowned in problems that demanded solutions, issues that required his intervention and he was always giving so much of himself to so many.

It was as taking a toll.

And now here was the promise of another new soul. A pup. Fully dependant on him for survival. It was hard to be ecstatic.

" Why do you look so surprised? Have you not been sleeping with her?" She frowned, moving closer to the small wooden bench in the corner of the room. She sat down, primly adjusting the large swathes of her skirt. Even at her age, she was a beauty and despite being a widow, she was treated with great respect by all the wolves in the clan.

" I have... Of course...I just didn't expect her to ...so soon. " He muttered hesitantly. He made a quick calculation, Conceived at the end of autumn meant the child would be born at the end of summer. Rains and more rains. He would have to commission the weavers to make a lot of warm blankets and thick bedding for the babe. And make sure that all the birthing huts had their roofs mended. He felt an ache in his chest. He knew he had to have a heir. It was part of what he was responsible for. But he wasn't ready to be a father yet. Especially not with someone like her.

" You haven't been very subtle in your disdain for her, Joon. It makes me wonder of perhaps I have failed in teaching you the ways of a husband." His mother's sharp voice made him wince.

His parents had been deeply in love with each other. His mother had been an equal contributor in running the clan, his father's most trusted confidante. He couldn't imagine having something like that with the woman he had rather recklessly chained himself to for life. But he couldn't be openly defiant in front of his mother.

So he bowed.

" I've tried to talk to her mother. She looks at me like I'm some marauding villain."

Lady Kim scoffed.

" Because, for all she knows, you may as well be one. Think of who she is, how she was raised. Her mother died when she was eight and she has been keeping house for her father since then. It Is a miracle she knows how to read a few words and to write her own name. Old man Gong is unkind and cruel and I've only ever watched him treat her like an unruly dog that needed discipline and never like his own flesh and blood. She knows men to be cruel and powerful and capable of doing her great harm. Add to it your status as the head of the clan, of course she thinks you're dangerous. "

" am I to be blamed for her childhood now?"

" Don't be obtuse. That is not what I'm saying. I just want you to consider her upbringing, before you write her off as dramatic or hysterical. "

Namjoon sighed deeply.

" Alright, mother. I'll try to talk to her again. "

And he knew that he had to. If he wanted some semblance of peace in his life, he would have to make an effort with his wife.

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

Jiah sat by the haybale near the barn, cross-legged on the dirty floor as she watched Misu and Loshim, two of the stable boys tend to the horses. She stared at the careful way they brushed the large beasts, their tone gentle and soothing as they murmured reassurance to the agitated animals. She found it fascinating, how even an animal that powerful could feel fear and anxiety. It made her feel better about her own shortcomings.

From a very young age, she had known of her flaws. She was jittery, prone to cold sweats and breathing problems, easily frightened and absolutely terrified of confrontation of any kind. Her parents had been, to put it lightly, unkind. They had seen her as a burden, as something broken and useless and cumbersome and that had done nothing for her self esteem.

To make matters worse, they didn't let her attend lessons with the other omega girls, her education limited to scribbled writing on granite with chalk when her father was feeling bored or charitable. She could read a few words with difficulty . Could write her name out if you gave her some time and patience.

At first, her ignorance had been embarassing but over time she realised her education wouldn't serve her much purpose.

She thought of herself as something temporary and fleeting. Not meant to leave any lasting impression on the world. So it was alright if she didn't know what every other girl her age did. She was going to live and die in that hut near the boundary walls..... She would have no use for fancy words or exotic dances.

Or so she hd always believed.

So when the head alpha had asked for her hand in marriage, she had nearly passed out from her heart giving out.

Namjoon was seven years older, almost thirty winters old and she had only ever caught glimpses of him when he came to check on her father's watchpost occasionally. He was a tall man, strapping and intimidating with dragon eyes that glowed red. And one evening he had stopped by her side when she had been tending the beets and potatoes in the small vegetable garden out back.

He had stared at her for a few long minutes while she had sweated in nervousness and then he had promptly asked for her father. When the man had Stepped in and told her father that he was looking to make her his bride, the old man had been jubilant while Jiah had been confounded.

She hadn't wanted to say yes but she had been too much of a coward to say no. Besides, she didn't know if saying no would have any repurcussions....she didn't want to risk offending the literal head of the entire clan. What if they banished her? What would become of her then?

And so she had said yes. And here she was.

Mated to the man for life, her wolf connected to his and his mark on her neck and now....his child in her womb.

She felt the familiar stirring of panic, digging her nails into her palm to ground herself .

Jiah had long come to terms with the fact that her mind was not her friend. It sometimes tried to attack her , tried to make her feel irrational things. It convinced her that she was a bother, that she was useless, that she was a burden. It also tried to tell her that she was in danger, that she had to run and avoid and get away, even when she was perfectly safe.

When she had first come here as the head Alphas new wife, her brain had wrecked havoc on her senses. Had made her feel like a hunted animal, always cowering and hiding and trying to disappear . Namjoon had tried to be friendly, tried to be courteous and all she had done was hide and recoil, skin ice cold and words practically non existent. She hadn't said a word to him those first few days and even the bedding had been a nightmare, her entire body stiff as a board and she knew that he had probably felt like he was making love to a corpse.

She regretted it. Deeply. But there was not much she could do about it now. Besides she wasn't sure she even wanted to. It was obvious her husband's affections lay elsewhere. She had seen the way he looked at that courtesan. Had seen him sneak out for walks with her, had seen them huddled together in the room with all the scrolls and leather bound books.

Jisoo was a beautiful omega, well read and trained in musical arts. She played the gayageum and the flute, knew how to entertain guests with a perfect ceremonial dance and she was always at the helm of every festivity, dressed in vibrant fabrics and full of life.

She was also madly in love with Namjoon.

Jiah sighed, watching the horses paw at the dirty stable floor. She wanted to get to know her husband, yes. But she knew that even if she did, he would only find her wanting and inadequate in all ways.

And that was just not acceptable .

She maybe self aware when it came to her short comings but she also had her pride.

She would rather live like this. Tucked away like an embarassment, hidden like a dirty secret because then there would be no piercing gaze weighing her against her peers and declaring her broken.

Yes.

Pregnant or not, she wanted nothing to do with her husband.

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

" Are you feeling well now?" Namjoon's voice startled her, eyes going wide as she looked around the resting quarters , gaze finally falling on the man standing near the large table on the side. Namjoon was bent over the rough oak surface , papers spread out in front of him, an oil lamp burning bright nearby, casting a sepia shadow on the man himself and she hesitated, debating the pros and cons of excusing herself to go see his mother instead. Maybe claiming a headache?

In the end she did neither, resolving to at least make an effort with this.

" I'm well, alpha. " She swallowed the lump in her throat. " I'm sorry for inconveniencing you. "

He straightened, turning around to look at her finally.

" Do you wish to move into another room?" He said briskly and she startled.

" Another room?"

" Now that you are with pup, there's no reason for us to keep sleeping together. I prefer having my own space. "

Jiah felt the blood rush through her ears. This shouldn't hurt but it did and she could feel the self loathing flood her senses. She stared down at herself, the lack of beauty and the utter lack of any kind of elegant upbringing. Of course he didn't want to stay with her any longer. What had she been thinking , agreeing to this farce of a mating?

" I... Alright. "

Namjoon turned away from her.

" Good. I've already arranged for all your things to be moved to the west wing , next to the gardens."

Far away from his rooms, Jiah thought bitterly. The sudden realization that Namjoon had been looking for some sort of brood mare and not a mate hit her . And it suddenly made sense that he hd picked her.

Someone easy to boss around.

Someone who wouldn't demand anything from him, loyalty or affection or attention .

And it irked her for some reason.

Why did he get to treat her that way? Why must she put up with it?

But she stayed quiet because she wasn't sure what to say.

" You can leave now, Jiah. " He said dismissively and she hesitated before stepping out of the room.

And she wondered if with her departure, someone else would be taking her place in his bed.

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

Authors Note : would you guys like first person narrative or should I continue in third person? 👀

[pink-peony-princess]

Who Said Anything About Tact?

Violet's walk had started out like any other. She was a person of habit,very rarely did she break her routine, and so how she came to be by Old Station Bridge,she couldn't be sure. One thing had led to another, she had noticed the way the late afternoon light was hitting the trees just across the small river, the field behind it backlit perfectly. So perfectly that she'd done what she'd so rarely done before and stopped to take a photo.

She'd been warned about the presence of wolves by her mother so many times before, the whole town of Mercy Falls knew about them. There were the Cresent Moon pack, feared amongst wolves, but of zero threat to humans, in fact they were well know to help protect their human neighbours whenever necessary. And then there were the rogues, the mean, vicious, unapologetically violent, wolves that were fixated on taking the town for themselves.

Unfortunately for Violet this was who she came to be in the presence of the day it happened.

She'd taken her photo and had made it no more than 30 metres down the road when she heard the first growl. At first she ignored it, maybe it was a trick of her imagination she thought shaking her head. But she heard it again, this time closer, and she had a weird feeling as though she was being watched.

Before she had time to react, she was hanging just above the ground sharp teeth cutting into her side as she screamed to no effect for the animal to drop her, it shook her the way a dog would shake its prey to kill it, showing no sign of letting her go. She would have sworn she heard a crack of bone, but she couldn't be sure because her whole body felt like one giant punching bag. She called out for help again and again, but it was useless, no one would hear her out here, no one came along here, and for good reason she thought as she let her body go lump, accepting her fate.

Raul and his two betas- one of his brothers Peter and his friend Connor were nearly finished with their evening perimeter run of their lands when they heard it. The unmistakable rumble of growling in the distance. None of the three men recognised the tone, meaning it wasn't one (or several) of their own, which only left one other possibility-rogues.

They listened for a minute before they heard the sound of a woman shouting, begging for help over and over again before just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped.

The three wolves looked at one another before sprinting for the eastern boundary by Old Station Bridge. If there was a human,they were in trouble, there was no way a human could win against one rogue, let alone multiple.

Raul had dealt with his fair share of rogues in his short time as alpha, but nothing would prepare him for what they saw as they came to a stop by the bridge. A pack of 10 wolves were all circling a young brunette woman- from what Raul could see from the glimpses he was catching between the wall of wolves she around the same age as him and his brothers.

He made his way closer, careful not to bring attention to himself or his betas, he wanted the element of surprise.

He was just about to attack when the young woman looked up, as if she sensed help had come. What Raul wasn't expecting as the woman held his gaze was how it would make him feel. Initially Raul registered the terror and pain on the woman's face, the extreme helplessness, and then something hit him. It was the weirdest feeling- like warm tingling butterflies flooding Raul's entire body, his wolf- Knight- was restless, anxious really, begging to be let free, and then it happened, it clicked "Mate, mate, mate!" Knight shouted in Raul's head over and over again. There was a moment or two of elation where neither Raul or this unknown human girl moved before Raul was snapped back to reality by yet another growl from one of the rogues as they continued to circle and a small pitiful whimper from the girl.

There was no way he was going to let his mate get hurt he thought to himself as he lunged forward immediately knocking one of the wolves out of the way. Peter and Connor followed suit, just as easily dispensing another two wolves a good 10 metres from where they'd originally been. Though they got straight back up, poised to attack again.

Raul could see the girl clearly now that the circle had been broken and the sight pulled at his chest, though he wouldn't like to admit it.

The woman had a large gash on her temple which was trickling blood down the side of her head, dropping in a small pool on the ground, along with several puncture marks on her abdomen, which judging by the blood that had saturated her white shirt were deep, not to mention what looked like a very broken right wrist and scrapes covering just about every visible part of her body.

He could feel the anger rising him at what these low lives had done to the girl- his mate! His! Noone else's! And before he could think he was shifting ripping a pair of pants out of the nearest tree (thank the Lord the whole perimeter of their lands had stashes of clothes) and was running over to her.

A deep gutteral growl left his lips, stopping everyone in their tracks.

Even Peter and Connor stopped, they all knew what that growl meant, it was the possessive growl of a mated wolf warning everyone and everything in it's way to stay away- or else.

The girl flinched as Raul continued to growl as the rogues slowly backed up,clearing a path for him to get to her.

"Don't touch me," she begged, eyes wide with fear as she tried to shuffle backwards away from Raul as he bent down in front of her.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Raul spoke gruffly. "I'm trying to help you stop fighting me!" he grumbled, swinging her up into his arms effortlessly as she tried to push against him.

The way she sobbed as he moved her pulled at his heartstrings he had to admit, but right now he had a mission, get her to Shawn his other identical brother and one of the pack doctors before she past out or bled out.

"Let me go." she smacked his chest weakly,making absolutely no impact. Infact Raul barely felt it.

"Stop fighting me!" Raul snapped, feeling frustrated as he ran as fast as his legs would take him in the direction of home.

"I don't even know you! I want to go home!" the girl continued to struggle despite her injuries.

Peter who had been running behind Raul with Connor (both of whom must have shifted without Raul even realising) spoke up.

"Raul, look at her, she's terrified and in pain." Raul could tell without even looking at him that he felt bad for her, he was always such a softie, whereas Raul would rather be tactless and keep his mate alive than worry about being a gentleman.

Raul halted causing Peter to crash into him mid-step.

"Look Peter, I can either do as she asks, or I can save her life, which do you think I'm gonna choose?" he asked pointedly, glaring at his younger brother. He should know what was at stake here, afterall he'd found his mate Betty 6 months before and was absolutely besotted.

"I'm not saying you're not doing the right thing." Peter tried to backpedal. "Just maybe be a little nicer, a little more understanding, think about how you'd feel if you were in her position. She's human. Attacked by rogues and then some strange guy who also happens to be a wolf comes and picks you up and snaps at you when you try to defend yourself as you would."

"I'm trying to help her," Raul snapped again, glaring still.

"I know you are," Peter smiled sympathetically, "all I'm saying is maybe watch your tone."

"I'm sorry," he sighed, looking down at the crying girl in his arms. "My name's Raul, I know you're scared but if you don't let me help you won't be alive to go home," he explained impatiently, still walking.

"But you're a wolf. Why would you help me?" The confusion in her voice genuinely surprised him.

"Not all of us are big bad wolves," he answered, not disclosing the real reason. She was quiet for a minute except for the occasional hiss from pain.

"You are." she looked up at him waiting for a response, but Raul was so shocked that all he could do was laugh.

"You might be right you know."

...

By the time they made it to the pack house the girl, his mate had become lethargic and non- talkative. Raul wouldn't let it show, but he was really starting to panic. When he'd thought so many times before about the possibility of meeting his mate, this was so not what he'd imagined. But here he was carrying a half- limp woman with potentially life-threatening injuries through his house with everyone they came across giving him the same look of shock and confusion.

Peter and Connor had disappeared to put a search party together to deal with the rogues in question. Raul had really been quite forgiving of them over the two years he'd been in charge, but this, this was too far, this he would not forgive, he'd hunt them for the rest of his days if that's what it took to get revenge.

He would never forgive them for what they'd done to his mate. Never.

He made his way up the stairs that led to the pack hospital quicky- it had been decided when he became alpha that a whole floor of the pack house (it was a mansion really if you took the size into account) would be turned into something of a hospital. Not only was it more convenient for everyone in the pack house- rather than going to a GP or hospital they could simply walk upstairs and be seen by a doctor nearly straight away, but it was practical for all the times when werewolves would come home injured from fights or assignments and need immediate medical care. As this woman did now. When Raul reached the top of the stairs and rounded the corner to the door of the hospital he was met with a wall of people and even more curious eyes. Everyone seemed shocked to see their alpha- usually so tough and strong carrying a semi conscious woman as though she might break at any moment.

"Out of the way, fucking move!" he yelled, causing her to whimper as the sound sent shock waves through her skull. Everyone scurried, heads down not game to look their alpha in the eye. They knew just from his stance, let alone his tone that he wasn't kidding around.

"Shawn get your arse in here!" he called as he pushed his way through another door and into the consultation area.

He made his way over to a bed, putting her down as gently as he could, but she still gave a whine of discomfort.

Whether in a half-delirious state or simply trying to distance herself from him, she made a move to try and get off the bed almost immediately but he stopped her, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Stay," he spoke, a little too harshly, instantly regretting it when he saw her bottom lip quiver slightly. "Sorry," he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Who's this?" Shawn asked walking through the door a moment later, he looked between Raul and the young woman on the bed. Up close Raul could see just how pretty she was, chocolate brown eyes and a few freckles here and there. She was perfect he thought.

"Took you long enough," Raul grouched "She's my mate," he spoke quickly, watching as both Shawn and the woman's eyes went wide. Shawn was the first to recover, nodding and waiting for his brother to go on as though he hadn't just mentioned something totally life changing.

"She was attacked by rogues. I'm going to fucking kill them!" he fumed pacing the area.

...

As soon as Violet heard the word 'mate' she began to freak out, her breathing became laboured. She couldn't help but claw at her throat in a desperate attempt to get air. She couldn't have this jerk as a mate, she couldn't leave her home to live with a pack of wolves, she wouldn't.

Shawn rushed over grabbing an oxygen mask and gently placing it on her face.

"That's it, nice slow breathes, you're okay," he encouraged as Raul looked on helplessly.

"Raul, get outside, cool off, you're terrifying her. Look at her," he spoke not bothering to look at his brother, still trying to coax Violet into a semi-normal breathing pattern.

Ordinarily, Raul would have kicked Shawn's arse from here to Mars for talking to him like that, but when he turned to face his mate and saw the tears of fright rolling down her face, the way she clung to his brother's hand, he was brought back to the present. Of course he could be hot-headed and he had a reputation to uphold, but that didn't mean he wanted his mate to be scared of him. Hell that was the last thing he wanted.

"Sorry," he muttered, pushing past Shawn and walking out the door.

They heard a crash of what sounded like a vase, causing Violet to jump again.

"Sorry about him," Shawn apologised. "I promise, he's really not that bad, he's a big softie really, he just gets protective of his loved ones and doesn't necessarily deal with the emotion the best way. I'm Shawn by the way," he smiled.

"V-violet," She looked at him still unsure.

"Can I have a look at your injuries?" he asked.

"Y-yeah," she answered.

He smiled before carefully assessing the surface injuries. Violet was relieved to hear that the bite wounds although nasty weren't life-threatening and would heal 'just fine' although he did get Violet to hold a piece of gauze over the area while he went about setting her up with different what felt like a 100 different leads so he could track her vitals.

"I'm just going to get you hooked up to a few monitors okay. They won't hurt, they're just so I can keep track of your heart rate and oxygen levels, things like that okay?"

She nodded, and Shawn went about making sure the slightly insane amount of leads were properly attached, before coming back over to the bed and pulling a penlight from his breast pocket.

"Looks like you gave yourself a nasty whack here," he commented, trying to be a bit more casual about it to put her at ease.

"Follow my finger," he asked as he turned the light on and shone it towards Violet, immediately making her want to recoil. "Do you remember what day it is?" he asked with a small frown, as he pocketed the light once again.

"Saturday?" she answered feeling very unsure.

"Yeah it is," Shawn smiled sympathetically at her obvious confusion and fear.

Things were quiet for a while except for the rhythmic beeping of the machines attached to Violet which were starting to lull her into sleep

"Knock, knock?" someone tapped at the door gently startling Violet, before a man who looked almost exactly the same as Shawn, except with shorter hair poked his head into the room." Hey, I just came to see how you were? The others just left to track the wolves that attacked you and Raul's downstairs sulking," he smiled as he stepped into the room, dodging Shawn who was now busy getting supplies out to deal with the nasty and numerous wounds covering Violet's body. "I'm Peter," he held out a hand.

She smiled,holding out her left non- injured hand, "Violet."

Shawn walked back over to the bed carrying a load of medical supplies which he placed on the bed beside Violet, it made her feel a bit sick thinking about it, there were bottles of disinfectant, scissors,wipes, packets of what looked like needles and tubing, sheets of protective paper and gloves.

"Try not to focus on what I'm doing, why don't you talk to Peter while I work?" he suggested, kicking a rolling stool in Peter's direction which he sat on before following suit on his own one. "I need to start an I.V. with some antibiotics okay?" he added, before picking up a packet from the bed and ripping it open.

Violet stiffened as what Shawn had said sunk in, an I.V. meant, a needle and Violet was no good with needles, the last time she had to have one she fainted in the reception area of her doctor's.

"It's okay," Shawn tried to calm her, but he could tell that she was only becoming more and more uptight.

"Hold Peter's hand if you want," Shawn suggested seeing the tears pooling in her eyes.

She took Peter's hand immediately in her good one and Shawn went about positioning her arm for the I.V., wiping her arm before lining the needle up and looking up at her. "Sharp scratch," he warned before inserting the needle quickly, but carefully.

She jumped slightly, and gave a small whimper, but overall, she thought, it wasn't too bad.

"There all done," Shawn smiled, getting up to discard the waste into a special bin. "How's your pain? I'm going to give you a local anesthetic when I clean your abdomen and head up, but I can give you a dose of pain relief if you need it," he offered.

"Please," she nodded, a few tears falling down her face.

Shawn nodded again going to get the pain relief when there was another knock on the door, this one was harder than when Peter had knocked to come in. The door opened and Raul came in, not waiting to be invited. Violet noticed straight away how much calmer he looked.

They stared at each other for a moment, before Shawn walked back into the room, stopping when he saw Rau in the doorway.

"You can come in if you're calm enough," Shawn invited him, promoting Raul to step fully into the room and close the door behind him.

"Raul, this is Violet."

Raul smiled a really genuine smile and Violet couldn't help but notice, now that he wasn't being a totally arse, just how handsome he was, how handsome all three of them were- Raul, Shawn and Peter. They were all well built, and extremely tall- towering over Violet's 5'2" frame, with curly brown hair and brown eyes. Raul was by far the most well built and intimidating with a sleeve of tattoos covering his arm and right hand as few scattered on his neck. Up close Violet could see the lip and ear piercings that only added to the tough almost gothic look. The smile on his face a stark contrast to the rest of his appearance.

...

Raul made his way over to the bed slowly, carefully, the last thing he wanted to do was scare Violet anymore than he already had. He wanted to show her the softer side of him, the side that would do anything for his mate, the side that was fiercely protective and loyal. Not the arsehole he showed her when they first met.

Peter stood up and smiled before leaving the room, the rolling stool now vacant. Raul took the opportunity to sit down, still looking at this young woman in awe.

"I'm sorry I was an arse to you," he apologised, looking down at his hands.

Violet didn't say anything, but when Raul looked up, she nodded softly signalling she'd heard him.

"Violet I'm going to start stitching your head up now okay?" Shawn interrupted their little moment.

Raul could see the panic on Violet's face as Shawn spoke and wanted so badly to comfort her, but he wasn't sure how. He felt so much pity and protectiveness at his tiny mate laying helplessly on the bed as Shawn tended to her injuries.

...

"Can I, can I hold your hand?" The softness and tentiveness of the question was so unlike Raul that both Violet and Shawn stopped, stunned momentarily. As much as Violet wanted to say no, just to prove a point that you don't get to be a complete jerk and then backflip and suddenly everything was okay again, she had to admit that an odd sense of calm had washed over her since Raul had entered the room.

She nodded again and he immediately took her hand carefully, sending shockwaves of tingles up both of their bodies. She looked at him panicked, but he just smiled reassuringly, before speaking, "It's the mate connection," he murmured, squeezing her hand gently. It felt odd to be holding someone's hand that she'd barely met and that had been so cold to her previously and yet, it felt so right.

Her thought train was interrupted by a sharp prick and then an intense stinging started on she forehead, before Shawn was pulling up her top revealing the wounds that she'd been holding pressure on. "Deep breath," Shawn warned this time before yet another prick and more stinging, the process was repeating a further two times before he discarded the needle.

"Oww, it's stinging," she whimpered.

"Shawn why'd you have to hurt her!" Raul half growled, though it was nothing on what he'd been like earlier.

"I'm not trying to, I promise, unfortunately it can be a side effect of the anesthetic. It shouldn't last long."

After she was stitched up,and her broken wrist x-rayed and plastered the two men left her to have a moment alone while they spoke outside.

"How bad?" Raul asked folding his arms.

Shawn sighed, "She's badly banged up. She'll need to be on I.V.for at least 24 hours."

"I want her in my room," Raul demanded immediately.

"Did you hear what I said?" Shawn asked.

"Did you hear what I said?" He counted harshly.

"Fine," Shawn sighed. "'I'll set her up in your room. If she agrees."

Raul nodded, a smirk on his face. They both knew he'd won the battle and there was nothing Shawn could do about it.

By the way, what were you thinking, just picking her up and bringing her here before actually talking to her?" he shook his head. "She was terrified." Raul who could hear the disapproval in Shawn's voice didn't take lightly to being spoken to by one of his pack, let alone his own brother.

"One don't talk to me like that, ever again,I might be your brother, but I'm also your Alpha and two I'm sorry, but if I hadn't have done what I did, she would be dead. Maybe that makes me harsh or whatever but I'd rather save my mate and the future luna of our pack than worry about pleasentries."

Shawn wanted to say more, but knew better than to push Raul so he simply said "I'll talk to her about staying with you, stay here." Before he left,not waiting for his reply.

...

As Shawn had expected as soon as he mentioned the idea of being in Raul's room, she shot him down pointing out that while he'd been nice to her in the last 30 minutes or so, he'd been a total jerk previously and she didn't want to be stuck with thst.

"I know he wasn't the nicest to you," Shawn agreed, "But I promise he means well, he was stressed and frustrated. He's your mate, it's his job to love and protect you and trust me he will do anything to honour that, even if it means being a bit harsh sometimes. Plus being around him will help you heal quicker, it's something that your body will recognise subconsciously, even for you as a human. It's one of our weird werewolf things. Please," he put his hands together practically begging.

"Fine," she conceeded, but if he's even the slightest bit rude I'm outta there,"

"Deal."

Half an hour later and Violet was situated in the most comfortable bed she'd ever laid in, the smell of Raul (a mixture of Sandalwood and Musk) filling her senses. She had to admit it calmed her, despite her wariness towards him.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked leaning against the doorway arms folding a smile once again gracing his face, making him look so much less scary. She jumped slightly holding a hand to her chest.

"I'm sorry I scared you," he apologised and something in the way he said it told her he wasn't just apologising for now.

"S'okay," she yawned, "but you have zero tact you know," she laughed as he frowned.

"I'm Raul Mendes, alpha of the largest pack in Canada,I can be mean, I can be ruthless,I also protect the ones I love with everything I have. But who said anything about tact? Cause it definitely wasn't me," he laughed, coming over to sit on the bed next to her, careful not to invade her space. As Violet drifted into a dream-state she could have sworn she heard him say "Sleep well, little mate," but of course when she questioned him on it the next day Raul would deny it till he was blue, well red in the face- with embarrassment that is. Maybe he wasn't such a big bad wolf afterall Violet thought.

[darthstitch]

10 Random Headcanons About Mr. Hart and Mr. Unwin

1. "It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a certain senior Knight newly crowned as Arthur, must be in want of a Guinevere."

The above piece of wisdom was delivered by one Roxy Morton, a.k.a. Lancelot, complete with a rather Significant Look directed at Eggsy Unwin a.k.a. Galahad.

Eggsy's response was an equally eloquent: "Sod off." Also, he was blushing so hard that Harry even noticed it after he walked into the room five minutes later. Which prompted a completely awkward (and adorable, according to Roxy) exchange that consisted of Harry fussing and Eggsy getting all the more flustered, not helped by the fact that at some point, Harry actually called him: "my dear," seemingly by accident. Harry called for tea and Eggsy had to sit through the rest of the Round Table meeting hiding behind a mug of chamomile and scones.

2. Tristan might be a badass assassin who doted on his dog and could easily kill a dozen men with a dull pencil, but he was also interested in crafts and had a puckish sense of humor. He gifted a framed, cross-stitched version of Roxy's quote to Eggsy. Eventually, Eggsy did end up hanging the damn thing in his own office. This was long, long after Eggsy could finally get over the initial abject horror and sheer mortification that John fuckin' Wick had noticed Eggsy's hopeless affections for Harry Hart.

3. It gets worse. EVERYONE actually saw that Eggsy was arse over tits for Harry Hart. "There, there, lad," Merlin told him much, much later, when they'd finally sorted themselves out. "Actually, everyone else had also noticed that he was equally besotted with you."

"Oi," was Harry's reaction to that, in a very deadpan, accurate imitation of Eggsy's accent.

4. Eggsy's "posh" voice gets any number of reactions when he has occasion to use it. His mates have all died of laughter when they've heard him use it in the shop. His mum is also not immune to the giggles, but only because, as she's remarked, "It suits you, Eggsy-boy." Originally, it was a beautiful, dead-on impersonation of Harry himself. These days, when Eggsy slips into that accent, every syllable crisp, cold, and clear, he can actually be terrifying. This is how Galahad takes command of half a dozen Knights in order to go rescue their King and how he even gets Merlin to snap to attention.

5. What most people don't know is that Harry is equally capable of taking on Eggsy's chav accent. The following exchange was recorded for posterity:

Harry: Ah, yer th'guvna, Merlin. Fanks.

Merlin: You're welcome, Galahad.

Harry: S'Arfur, now, innit?

Merlin: ...

Eggsy: *in the background, giggling*

Merlin: Arthur?

Harry: Yeh, bruv?

Merlin: Don't ever do that to me again.

Eggsy: *loses it completely*

6. Harry Hart, of course, spent some time privately agonizing over the fact that he'd gone and fallen for a man half his age. He'd ruefully thought to himself that if he HAD to go through the obligatory "mid-life crisis" he figured that living the life of a Kingsman would have sorted all that out. But no, he had to go arse over teakettle for one beautiful, brave, bright young man who deserved to have the world laid at his feet. Harry was a gentleman of honor and he was quietly prepared to never openly speak of his feelings. If he could have Eggsy in his life as a very dear friend, then Harry would count himself fortunate. If he could have that familiar voice call him " 'Arry" and laugh and tease and generally be the impertinent, mischief-making, cheeky darling that he was, Harry would be content.

(Merlin has heard all this and had to pour himself a very stiff drink, prior to banging his head on his desk because, OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE, HARRY ARTHUR FITZWILLIAM HART.)

7. Harry had quickly become wrapped around the tiny, sticky fingers of little Daisy Unwin from the moment they were introduced. Daisy adored her 'Arry and immediately demanded to be picked up and even Eggsy couldn't completely pry her away, at least until she'd finally fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder, one little hand fisted around Harry's tie. Thus, Harry soon became a regular at tea parties, helped Daisy dress her dolls and also helped her invent fanciful adventures for the dolls to go on, involving kings and dashing knights and dragons and princesses.

8. It was Daisy, actually, who'd managed to finally drive home some very important truths.

"I wuv you, 'Arry."

"I love you too, poppet."

"Eggy wuvs 'Arry too. Wilf you marry Eggy, 'Arry?"

Harry's normally brilliant brain had temporarily gone offline at that innocent question but he must've sputtered out some suitable answer: (Perhaps if Eggsy says yes... / O'course 'e will, 'Arry! Eggy wuvs you muchly!) And right on the heels of that, Harry had heard Eggsy respond in this broken, ragged tone that Harry dearly hoped he would never hear again:

"Eggsy would say 'Yes' - that is, if Harry would only ask."

Needless to say, the two idiots eventually managed to bring Daisy back to her Mum, so that they could have a private talk that involved several heartfelt confessions, kisses and other interesting things best left to the imagination.

No, Merlin, Harry and Eggsy absolutely did not end up defiling the Round Table. Why on earth would they do that when there was a perfectly acceptable bedroom?

In any case, the above incident had convinced Merlin that Daisy might well be a worthy "Morgana" to take his place one day.

9. After Harry and Eggsy, in their friends' own words, "finally got their respective heads out of their arses and sorted their shite out," Eggsy has observed that Harry is apparently incapable of at least going one day without addressing Eggsy by some sort of endearment or the other. "My dear" used to slip out quite accidentally, back when they were both mutually pining, which pretty much confirmed everyone else's suspicions about Harry's real feelings. These days, Eggsy will often hear Harry call him "darling" or "dearest" and it never fails to make him blush and feel all warm inside.

Of course, Eggsy has his own endearments and calling Harry "love" or referring to him as "my Harry" never fails to bring out the smile that Eggsy loves the most, the sweet, shy smile that will eventually give way to the one with the dimples.

10. In the wake of the former Arthur's treachery and the clear weaknesses he had in running Kingsman, Harry as Arthur took a different approach in rebuilding and making sure that changes for the better were made. Going out on missions was one of those changes. "Code Excalibur" became an official thing when it became patently clear that while Arthur and Galahad were already deadly working by themselves, they were absolutely lethal when working together. Of course, this was only invoked in missions where basically the fate of the world was at stake.

The most epic case in which a Code Excalibur was invoked happened during what should have been just a simple intelligence gathering mission that the trainees would be watching from the feeds in Merlin's office. Up to this point, the trainees had not realized that the apparently senior Knight known as "Harry" who so often shamelessly flirted with Agent Galahad and regularlymanaged to wipe the floor with the more arrogant trainees, was actually Arthur himself. Somehow, explosions, potential doomsday weapons and Arthur and Galahad being magnificently badass together happened, at which point Merlin just gave up and called the rest of the Knights in to help.

(Merlin: God help my sanity)

[detroitbydark]

Title: Sidearms

Summary: a Mad Max:Fury Road fic

He was dead now and she didn’t know whether she should be happy or sad

Word Count: 1400

Characters: The Bullet Farmer, OC Female, OC Males

Warnings: Mentions of Mad Max standard violence against women.

Authors note: I wrote this in Jan 2017 before I even thought of coming into tumblr. Since than it has exactly 73 hits on AO3. Literally my saddest showing. It remembered it existed just today when someone commented on it and all the head canons and stories I had for Pistol cane rushing back. So... here it is because I can’t let it die such a mediocre death.

He called her Pistol. She'd had another name once, thousands of days past. It had been musical and rolled off the tongue like a bird taking flight. She didn't think about those things much anymore.

She was Pistol.

His Pistol.

Her life would never be what it had been. Not ever again.

She'd come from the clan Boheme. They'd been peaceful, or as peaceful as folk were able to be, they'd made it through the waste earning what they could entertaining at settlements. They were near happy. In the caravan every woman was mother, every man was father. She never was sure who bore her but she never questioned it either. As she grew she was taught the music makers. As a babe, she'd crashed her hands into drums and rattled tambourines. As she grew she learned the stringed git, practiced til her small fingers were well adorned with callouses from plucking the strings. She'd been praised for what the elders had called "perfect pitch" when she sang. When a war party had raided their camp one night it became clear it was both a blessing and a curse. Her family had been torn from her. Shots rang out. The flames of life were snuffed. She'd closed her eyes unable to witness the massacre. In her mind she liked to pretend that her brothers, fathers, and mothers were still out there playing in night.

Her purpose within The Bullet Farmer's fortress was often misunderstood. Brought in as a young girl, it had been assumed she was to be a wife. They thought he'd use her as a breeder such as the Immortan at the Citadel had with any full life girl he could find. Few people if any ever truly understood the Bullet Farmer. Kalishnakov. He had no use for the 'sins of the flesh', as he'd told her when she'd come of age. He would not be joining her in her bed chambers. Her job was to help him maintain appearances. Her job was to ease his tortured soul. His kind had been around when the Earth had gone sour. They'd caused the Guzz Wars. They'd taken part in the Wars for the Aquacola. They'd killed the world.

She'd sit on the floor near his desk, a word burger in hand, like a well healed dog waiting to be aknowledged. When the mood would suit him he'd clear his office of his sargents and captains and she'd sing for him songs she'd learned from her family or from the black discs he called "records". She'd watch his eyes flutter shut, the lines on his face would soften and she could almost see him as a he must have looked as a young man. Other times he'd ask her questions about the word burgers he'd have her read from his collection.

On rare ocassion he'd have her sing quietly while his top men were in the room as they planned an attack or discussed trade with the Citadel or Gast Town. Smith and Wesson, the look alike brothers who maintained the manufacturing of the munitions, would sink into the animal hide arm chairs. Their typical twitchy nature eased if only for a few moments. Remington, the Farmer's second in command, would watch her with a gaze she didn't understand. Her face would become hot and her heart would pound until she'd have to look anywhere but him. If Kalishnakov noticed he never said anything.

While she escaped the intimate torture, the rapes, that many or her sex knew as part of life she was not immune to brutality. While the Farmer would not use her carnally he expected her to perform whatever he asked and expected it to be executed perfectly. If she didn't he was not above corporal punishment. She'd been in his house 340 days when he ushered her into his private chambers and showed her an instrument taller than herself.

"A harp." He'd explained before he proceeded to play her a record of what it was to sound like. "You will learn to play this."

He'd left her there in his inner sanctum surrounded by book shelves and paintings of lush green places that she had only ever dreamed about. She'd worked than for hours, until her fingers were red and tender trying to mimic the sounds she'd heard. When he'd returned and demanded she play it was no where near what he'd wanted. She'd been punished, lashed until black began to creep in the corner of her eyes. While he did it he spoke to her, explained what his expectaions were. His voice held no anger. He remained cool an detached. In control.

He liked to remind her that she was merely property. His to do with as he pleased. He could offer her up as tribute to Immortan Joe if he pleased. A threat that became all the more terrifying after he'd taken her to a "conference" at the Citadel. She'd seen the haunted looks in the eyes of the half naked harrem of wives that sat huddled at his feet, the swollen belly of one prominently displayed for the visiting dignitaries. Kalishnakov had made it clear to the Immortan that she was HIS property and would not be available for his use. Remington ushered her back to their rig shortly after to await the short trip back to The Bullet Farm. He growled at any War Boy who'd had the balls to look at her and offered to share his ration of Aquacola with her.

Kalishnakov also seemed to find pleasure in reminding those around him that he held the power or life and death in his hands.

"You forget your place, young Remington!" he yelled at his most trusted soldier. Pistol had paid little attention as the voices had become louder. It was not uncommon for heated discussions to take place in the "war room". It wasn't until her name was sharply barked that her spine straightened.

"Pistol. Here. Now." had her jumping to her feet and rushing the The Bullet Farmer's side.

"Sir?" she questioned quietly keeping her eyes down. She could hear a cold smile in his voice as he spoke.

"Now see?" he questioned, not to her but to the man across the room. "My little Pistol knows how to take an order. Don't you , sweet girl?" he finally asked her as his hand came up to stroke her lower back in a mock sign of affection. She thought she heard a noise come from Remingtons direction but that was that wasn't her concern right now.

"Sir. Yes sir." she responded quietly.

"Now, dear girl, I want you to look at this soldier and tell him what you would do if I told you to sleep in the barracks tonight." Pistol looked up from the Bullet Farmer's cruel smile to Remington's grim one. His jaw twitched as her bottome lip began to quiver.

"I would follow your orders sir."

Remington snapped, "They would tear he apart down there! She'd be used up six way from Suns Day!"

Kalishnakov stood from his chair at this, slamming his fist into the wooden desk top. "And I would do it to, you insubordinate little smeg, if it meant teaching someone a lesson!" he growled, spittle forming at the corner of his mouth. The fight seemed to drain from the young commander who finaly conceeded.

"Sir. Yes Sir."

"Thats what I thought." the old man smiled cruelly, "dismissed."

She never did end up in the barracks.

"You know why I call you Pistol?" He'd asked her recently. A tiredness had sunk into his voice. Her fingers danced over the harpds stirngs. The lamp in the corner cast shadows across his face as he lay in his bed. His cheeks looked more sunken, his skin sallow, and for the first time he looked old and feeble.

"No Sir." she answered quietly as she continued to weave notes into melodies.

His eyes fluttered closed and his breathing began to slow. for a moment she thought he'd fallen asleep until he finally spoke, "every man aught to keep to keep a hidden weapon at their side. Something that makes them feel powerful even when they're not." He'd fallen asleep than leaving her with more questions than she'd started with.

He was dead now. That's what the scouts had reported back. As she sat on the rug in his chambers watching, if not hearing, the record player in front of her skip she wasn’t sure if she should be happy or sad.

[nikikeya]

They'd left then, going back to town to their hotel to rest, Lewis had gone into his anchor for a while to speed his recovery. (Something that always unnerved Arthur abit.) And Vivi, Mystery, and Arthur had eaten dinner, and gone to bed.

The next morning everything seemed like it was back to normal. Lewis was hovering near the dresser, cuddling with his Deadbeats. He was in his human form, hair covering his eyes. Arthur had hurried over, startling them, but Lewis had recovered quickly, and drew him into a hug.

Vivi had fell out of bed an hour later, moaning like she was about to die, and demanded coffee.

Arthur had reluctantly crawled down out of Lewis's lap, and gone to call for take out, which he'd then gone to pick up, Lewis wanting to stay with Vivi.

It was fair. He'd spent an hour cuddling with Arthur, it was only right that Vivi got her cuddle time as well. (And frankly before she'd had at least two cups of coffee, cuddling was about the only thing she was capable of.)

After Arthur returned, and Vivi had inhaled her breakfast, and liquid energy supplement. Arthur had drug Mystery out of bed with the promise of bacon, and sausages. The dog had dove face first into his meal.

Arthur for his part nibbled at a piece of toast, claiming that he still felt full from dinner. Nobody believed him, but they resolved to pin him down at lunch.

The return to the mansion was dull, other than the smudge marks on the wall and broken windows, the only exciting thing to happen was Arthur tripping and tumbling down the stairs. Lewis had darted down after him, catching him midway.

Lewis had taken Arthur back to the van and patched him up while Vivi called the client to give them the all clear. They'd arrived shortly after and paid them, and the gang was finally able to leave for Tempo.

☆☆☆☆

Two weeks had passed since then. And Arthur was currently seated in the back of the church, waiting for the afternoon sermon to end.

Religion was a sore topic for him. Not because he didn't believe, ( he literally lived with a Wraith and a fox demon after all. Spirits were definitely real. No doubt. There were probably gods too. (It would be just his luck)

No the sore spot was that the religious people he had the most contact with, where crazy cultists.

Cultists who wanted to make him a blood sacrifice, or use him as a vessel to resurrect their god.

Like those crazies Vivi had stolen the book from...

Arthur shuddered, and pulled himself from his dark thoughts. He forced all the terrifying memories down and focused completely on what Father Chorale was saying...

☆☆☆☆☆

The service finally ended, and the parishioners filed out, several greeting Arthur warmly.

Lance Kingsmen might have been a grumpy old dwarf, but he was well respected in Tempo. And everyone had been very supportive when he'd taken Arthur in. The fact that Arthur was over all, a good, helpful, well mannered, young man, had gone a long way to endear the boy in the townsfolk’s eyes as well.

He waved goodbye, smiling, and then got up and wandered down the aisle to where Father Chorale was seeing out the last of his congregation. He waited patiently for the elderly man to finish, smiling as the clergyman made a joke, and then closed the doors.

“Well now, young mister Kingsmen, what a pleasant surprise to see you here today!” he smiled, his dark eyes shining merrily. “You’re the only one who actually comes in and listens. Usually Lewis and Vivi wait outside."

Arthur shrugged, “it's hot outside. Besides, the stories are kinda fun to listen to, even if I don't always understand em.”

Chorale chuckled, “Well if you ever have questions, you know where to find me… Now, I suppose you're here to ask if I've heard about any supernatural problems, hmm?”

Arthur’s smile became strained, “Yup. Vivi's starting to get restless. And it's never good for anybody when she's bored…”

“That bad huhn?” Chorale asked sympathetically.

“She told us that she's always wanted to go skydiving. So Lewis has been working all morning to convince her nor to jump off the apartment roof with a bedsheet.” Arthur deadpanned.

“ Good heavens!!” the old priest exclaimed in shock. He hurriedly took out a memo pad, and started going over recent complaints from the parishioners with Arthur.

☆☆☆☆☆

Arthur started down silently at the address Father Chorale had given him. He'd just finished writing a text to Vivi about it. It was for a vacant building up state which was purportedly haunted by violent ghosts, who driven the last owners out.

Arthur shivered. Violent ghosts where his least favorite thing next to-

A van came screeching around the corner and squealed to a halt beside him, the door flew open, and two robed figures lunged out, grabbing ahold of the young man roughly and dragging him back inside kicking and screaming.

-next to crazy cultists!!

Arthur whimpered as he was gagged, and forced down onto his stomach on the floor, the larger heavier men holding him down.

And patted him down roughly for weapons.

The leader calmly typed out a ransom letter, and sent it along. Then turned to look down at their captive.

“Well now, my tender little lamb. Your friend’s transgression aside. I do believe we had unfinished business hm?”

Arthur whimpered again, squirming desperately. Amber eyes wide, he glanced around, but saw no way to get out.

He was doomed.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆●●●●●☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Mystery sighed and flopped over sideways, honestly, he loved Vivian, but that girl was such a handful sometimes! Thank goodness Lewis had managed to distract her with making sweets.

Suddenly Jasmine Thompson’s cover of “You Are My Sunshine” started playing from the direction of the couch, where Vivi's cellphone lay.

Mystery's ears perked up at the familiar ringtone. Arthur must have found something out at the church. Thank goodness!

Arcane Solutions [Open RP]