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#anyway none of this is very coherent my only thought when making that post was hihi horse au

beatriceportinari · 1 year

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I would actually like to hear more about the inception horse remake

Finally a horse AU enjoyer thank you

So my original post was made after this one so i was envisioning horse acting and not just horses being present in the story to be clear for everyone.

Options for which character the horse would play:

dom cobb: easy answer as the main character, echoes the original geralt post. boring to me personally though.

mal: my darling beloved.... this is the obvious option /to me/ as the already dead one. her izuna swag if you will. she deserves to be a dead horse but there are already so few women i don't wanna scrap miss cotillard for a horse... to explore further

sweatervest guy/tom hardy: this is just bc seeing the already nonsensical shipping between them would amuse me even more if one was a horse. who knows maybe they would have more chemistry /if/ one of them was a horse. geralt certainly had more chemistry with his horse than anyone else. Sorry I keep going back to geralt he started this.

I can't see any other of them being horse worthy but I am open to suggestions EXCEPT for ariadne bc she needs to be able to draw her little labyrinths. if anything her "i can fix him" attitude towards cobb makes me think of a horse girl think more than a horsegirl one you know. so he should be the horse more than her

they can't all be played bc horses bc I would hope for this anonymous horse to elicit the same amount of legend and attention as that dog from the thing. so i need human actors to discuss how the horse actor was so aloof and mysterious and hard working etc.

Ok now for any changes to the story the introduction of a horse would mean hmm. i think i'm going to take the mal route for this but imagine if he's implanted an idea in a horses brain. what if a horse dreamt it was human. delicious. anyway also of course a horse dream-> crime and punishment reference. mal already exists as an extension of cobb anyway in the film this would only confirm this. I think I've convinced myself of the mal option.

#'to explore further'-> just adds 3 lines 2 seconds later #anyway none of this is very coherent my only thought when making that post was hihi horse au #but of course that was a while ago and dead horses have had time to marinate in my brain #plinko

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larkspurglove · 2 months

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OH MY GODDD THE NEW TRAILBLAZE MISSION IT’S SO GOOD BUT ALSO NONE OF MY THOUGHTS ARE COHERENT AAAAA

Major spoilers for 2.1 ahead!!!!

So first off to the people that voted for Aventurine and Sunday in this poll how does it feel to be right?

ANYWAY THAT WHOLE ENDING WAS FUCKING INSANEEEE, Aventurine walking INTO the Nihility????? And he might not ever come back???? Acheron showing off the true extent of her emanator powers?????? Gallagher being the twist villain and also somehow in control of Something Unto Death???? What the fuck?!

My brain is a mess right now I’m just rotating all of the story in my brain and a hundred miles a minute. The next stuff is just going to be me word vomiting my reaction to stuff in a vaguely chronological order.

First off I LOVEEE how Aventurine-focused the Trailblaze mission was. I was kind of assuming it would be a 50/50 split between focusing on Acheron and focusing on Aventurine but it seems like they’re saving Acheron’s backstory for 2.2 or 2.3.

The little appearance of Boothill??? And how he immediately threatens violence?????? Just a silly guy I can’t wait for him in 2.2 I wanna see them fight. Also I wonder if Constance is making empty promises because it’s possible.

Back to Aventurine, DAMNNN I knew his backstory would be tragic but it’s even more gut wrenching than I expected. The reference in his achievements too??? ‘What do you want Sibyl?’ ‘I want to die.’ THE PROGRESSION FROM AVENTURINE STICKING WITH THIS UNTIL THE END WHERE EVEN THOUGH HE COULD POSSIBLY DIE FOR REAL YET HE DECIDES FO CONTINUE FORWARD BECAUSE EVEN IF WE’RE BORN TO DIE THERE’S A POINT IN LIVING LIFE AND PREPARING FOR THAT INEVITABILITY???? OH MY GOD.

Sunday’s also a scary dude. Maybe being an emanator does that to people but when he did that Harmony mindfuckery on Aventurine I was almost certain that he was going to die because of that. I was also SO pissed at Ratio for selling Aventurine out only to learn they were actually double crossing SUNDAY was insane. I’m glad he finally got to be angry about Robin’s death towards the end though, most of the downtime between 2.0 and 2.1 has been me wondering ‘man his sister just died why doesn’t he feel more distressed.’

Ngl I’m probably gonna dedicate a whole post to Aventurine in this update because 90% of the time I was playing the quest I was either thirsting over him, internally sobbing for him, thinking he was gonna die, or waiting to get back to his POV.

Gallagher is one hell of an enigma because Sunday implies that he’s made up of different ‘aspects’ of each Family member who’s died over however long the dreamscape deaths have been happening, yet he has a past with Siobhan and apparently knew Mikhail??? Like what the fuck????? How long has this been going on????

(Edit: so the use of ‘enigma’ was NOT a pun, when I played the trailblaze quest someone goofed up and forgot to add the line where Sunday calls Gallagher a follower of The Enigmata. Yeah that’s a pretty big lore drop to forget to add.)

I do wish it was foreshadowed slightly better though because the most we get is him being very vaguely sad about his past and also like two people going ‘who the hell is Gallagher.’

One thing I didn’t expect to happen was for a ‘Sam is Firefly’ reveal. Like I had seen the leaks before (not out of my own will sadly) and kind of expected for it to be a 2.2 reveal. Either way yayyyy Firefly is alive!!!

I’m sad that we didn’t really have an Acheron and Welt team up, or at least that we didn’t see more of it. It was kind of hyped up to be a whole B-plot but turned out to only be a few scenes. I’m not complaining because we get a little teeny bit of Welt characterisation but I’m still sad.

I like how Sparkle kind of just shows up to either be a nuisance or a conveniently timed piece to move the plot forward. It’s very fitting with being a Masked Fool.

There’s a lot more I want to scream about but it’s all Aventurine related and I’m gonna save it for its own dedicated post.

2.1 is so fucking good 2.2 and 2.3 better stick the landing.

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lorcandidlucienwill · 29 days

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For Day 3 of @tamlinweek , I am posting part of my Tamlin fic (Tamlin's Life Story: A Tragedy)! We are told that the mating bond is beautiful and everything everyone should wish for, but I don't believe Tamlin has a very good experience with the mating bond; his own parents were mated and terrible for each other.

So, this is a little dark, but what if Tamlin's mate was Amarantha? It would explain her obsession with him. Tamlin, by rejecting Amarantha in that little gathering (right before she took the High Lords' powers), rejected the mating bond and incited rage in Amarantha. What was it like for Tamlin when he first met Amarantha, when he was forced to be with her UTM, and after he killed her? Full fic can be found here: TW: mild descriptions of child SA, violence, angst

He still dreamt of it. When he was just a child, and he'd seen the Hybern general for the first time. Red hair with streaks of black, like her hair had been soaked with so much blood that it had mostly changed color, the streaks the only remnant of her that hadn't been corrupted. When he'd longed for acceptance from his father, receiving nothing but the barbed whip across his back for being a failure of a courtier, for playing his fiddle for the handsome Night Court lord he couldn't help but love, Amarantha had spoken to him.

She'd embraced him and told him he was worth every last bit of Prythian, and their mating bond had clicked in. So what if she caressed his chest far too possessively to be casual? So what if she grabbed him through his pants, sometimes squeezing hard enough to cause pain? She had told him he was valuable. That was more than his father ever did. The scars on his back were so numerous that nobody would be able to count them. But while Amarantha left bruises, none of them stayed.

It was only when she'd tried to strip him that he'd begged her to stop. He told her he was too young, that he was scared, that he had no idea what he was doing, that he wasn't comfortable with a sexual relationship at this point in time. In her rage, she'd ripped his antlers out with her bare hands and carved out his abdomen with them. It was only by a miracle that he'd escaped that place. He'd barely made it to his father, who'd saved his life.

Only to give him the worst beating of his life. By the time it was done, Tamlin was crying tears of blood. Yet, that wasn't the worst pain in the world. No, it was nothing compared to the hollow feeling in his chest. The golden thread, his last hope for joy in this world, snapped in one moment. The mating bond. He was in such torment that he was sure it would kill him. Unfortunately, he lived. And lived. And lived.

*********************************************************************** He lost track of the days. He couldn't remember his own name. He remembered nothing. At least in his earlier days of pain and abuse and sexual assault and torture, he'd felt something. There was meaning to his life, a hope for better. But now...it was an endless sea of agony. There were no coherent thoughts in his brain, only a dull, throbbing ache that sought to take him under and finish it. He wished it would. He prayed that the yawning blackness would simply embrace him. Unfortunately, it didn't. It was almost worse this way, that he'd gotten the taste of what it was like to have the semblance of a happy life, only to have it ripped away from him at the last moment.

He tried to remember something, anything, to make him keep going. Feyre, a phantom voice sometimes whispered. Lucien. But the burning pain quickly whisked those words away. He did not understand their significance, anyway. They sounded like made up words. Soon, he stopped trying to remember. He'd forgotten what he was fighting for. Amarantha demanded answers out of him that he couldn't give- she didn't understand that he was broken. Nothing she did to him could break him when he was already in pieces.

Until she came. Until suddenly breath returned to his lungs and he had a reason to breathe again. And reason to be absolutely terrified. He begged her to go, but she didn't. She stood there, bold as brass, and claimed him as her own. And Tamlin had never loved anyone more. He watched her get tortured, and he felt again. Rage and sorrow beyond a human's dizziest daydreams, but it was feeling. When the court had adjourned, Lucien had snuck over to him. His face was pale and ragged, but Tamlin also glimpsed something there he hadn't seen in a while: hope. Just the slightest glimpse of it.

"I swear to you, Tamlin," Lucien whispered, hands on his face, staring into his eyes, clouding Tamlin's senses, "I will do whatever it takes to keep her alive. Everything within my power, I will do it." Oh, Lucien. His bold, brave, selfless Lucien. Tamlin choked out the words, "Thank you." Lucien's face hardened with resolve. "Thank me by never giving in. No matter what happens, don't you dare give up." Tamlin stared into his beautiful mismatched eyes. "I swear it." **********************************************************************

However Tamlin had felt under the mountain, it was gone now.

Now that everything had settled back in, he could feel it. The mating bond threatening to split him in two. He'd rejected his own mate and then he'd killed her. And now it drove him mad at times.

Lucien was no longer enough to help him. He hired Ianthe to help with the wedding preparations, and he tried to forget his pain. He succeeded for the most part, his trauma only coming back to haunt him at night. Amarantha touching him, Lucien's broken back before him, Feyre's neck snapping-

It was the mating bond that bothered him most of the time. It was like a migraine that just wouldn't go away. His temper, which wasn't the best, he could admit, got much worse owing to the constant migraine. But how could he tell anyone his secret shame- that he'd been mated to Amarantha? That there was once a time he'd sought comfort in her?

He couldn't let her train. Ianthe was right. What if they came after her? What if her power drew Rhysand back? He couldn't allow that. He'd heard her neck snap, heard it in his dreams again and again and again and-

"Please, let her train," Lucien pleaded. Tamlin tried to concentrate on him over the roaring in his head. "Let her master this, so that she can protect herself when enemies come."

At the word enemies, Tamlin's entire body seized up. Magic exploded out of him, falling on Lucien and blasting him backward. Lucien glared at him, loathing simmering in his eyes. But he said nothing after that; only walking away before Tamlin could get on his knees and beg for his forgiveness.

#lucien vanserra #tamlin #tamlin week 2024 #feyre archeron #feylin #tamcien #pro tamlin #angst #amarantha

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freshlybakedspiderbread · 8 months

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ive always wanted to talk a bit about how i feel about the connection between Yukari and Merry because i love the endless parallels and thematic connections (like everyone else on the planet 😁), but wondering if it was ever 'worth' it since i may just be spouting a lot of what is already considered 'common knowledge' among hifuu aficionados. Not to mention i think my thoughts on it are somehow both really messy but also crystal clear. 😐 Well whatever! Its my own head anyway so i'll try not to worry and am gonna attempt to elaborate even if just a little on this post, which may not be entirely coherent due to sleepy, post-medicine fatigue.

i feel like over the years i may have started to become reflexively more 'against' yukari = merry fandom, although 'against' is probably too strong and its much more complicated than just "i dont subscribe to that theory" because thats not even entirely accurate!

it is of course a classic and really cool idea of the Merry one day becoming Yukari has been and continues to be thoroughly explored by many many fans for moving, tragic, bittersweet, or thought provoking work. I love Absolute One-Way Street, and also Dream and Reality among many other works like it 📖

but i also think its a little stiffling to think of that as the one and only story to tell about them? Now its possible that the sentiment im about to express isn't actually common and im actually just making up a person to respond to, but i think taking the teasing connections between Yukari and Merry and treating the idea of them being the same individual as the absolute obvious truth is a bit of a limiting perspective.

Of course everyone is entitled to their own opinions and headcanons! but i want to make a case that when it comes to touhou and especially hifuu in particular, there's also a richer (and possibly deliberate on the author? who knows!) point to treat it more abstractly.

Maybe they are the same person. Maybe one day Merry becomes Yukari, or Yukari becomes Merry. Maybe they're different people. Maybe they come from the same lineage. Or maybe one is a clone of the other grown in a lab or made with a magic spell.

None of that is as important to me as the the roles they serve in their stories. touhou has always had themes about the gap and the bridge between fantasy and reality by taking place in a world where fantasy seeks refuge from reality, and hifuu goes much further in that theme by taking place in a reality that has completely left behind fantasy. That parallel is really cool to me and its embodied perfectly by both stories having a purple-clad blonde girl with the means to poking their toes into the boundary between fantasy and reality.

In the fantastical world of touhou, one serves as gensokyo's powerful (if frustrating, shady, annoying, disagreeable) protector with allies that she watches over (and sometimes manipulates) with her great power, all to preserve their little wonderworld. And I think its sooo compelling how zun introduced hifuu in the music cds and designed a very similar-looking character, who lives in a stifled reality lacking in imagination, mostly spends her day chasing after even the smallest traces of dreams with a partner whose own small logical world expanded with infinite possiblities upon their meeting...

In the last few cds, Merry's powers may be growing stronger and i get why feeds the implication she's becoming something other than human. But my take on that has always been its more of a sign that she and Renko are already outliers in their world simply for daring to believe there is more to the world beyond facts and logic. I dont expect their story (assuming zun ever brings them back. we havent heard what theyre up to since 2016....) to ever end with both or either of them becoming a youkai or vanishing to gensokyo, because frankly that wouldn't serve any purpose for the themes hifuu has been about, which is embracing fantasy while living in a world that has abandoned it.

trying to remember what my point with this post is.... Oh right its that I think all these themes about the nature of gensokyo or the state of reality in hifuu are only made richer when you think about how they contrast with one another. And by extension, I think Yukari and Merry are both richer if you think of them as conceptual and thematic counterparts in two different stories on the opposite end of a similar spectrum, before thinking about what literal or objective connection they might have. Subjectivity definitely means more than objectivity in this case!

#touhou #hifuu #yakumo yukari #maereverie hearn #< - my personal take on merry's name btw n_n #keep thinking i could use a tag for when i just ramble about touhou but at the same time its freeing to just let it out and about #like yeah my rambling can just occupy the same tag as all the fun pictures on my blog. thats fine!

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bandedbulbussnarfblat · 1 month

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y'all, I'm so high rn, but I think I wanna write something in omegaverse. It would be my own twist on it, of course.

Imma put the thingy cause I got a little ramblelly

Bc I think like the trope itself could be so fun to examine through a world building aspect. Having a secondary sex, (or gender, that's something else I'll get into) is such an amazing thing in and of itself. There would be whole new ways to be transgender and/or queer.

So, would transgender people really be treated differently? When they have to be pretty common, like say statistically 30% of the population, at bare minimum.

But back to the sex thing. Like, assumably, you could still reproduce with your primary sex? So, theoretically, you could be the biological mother or father of your child. That means in a society like this, gender roles about parenthood could be virtually none existent.

And your secondary sex (I'm calling it a sex bc it aids in reproduction) is also sort of an assigned gender. Like, in fic, that I have read (bc sometimes when you got a rare pair, you gotta step outta your comfort zone) omegas are sort of looked down on, and alphas are looked up to. But what if you're born physically an alpha, but you feel like an omega? And is being alpha/omega rare? And aren't they sort of expected to go together? So what would people think of alpha/alpha pairings, or omega/omega? I imagine being beta is like, the equivalent of being cis het here, in terms of commonality.

And then there’s that scent thing. Apparently, it makes you very attractive to your...idk how to explain this gender split stuff rn, bc I'm like, so baked. Like how irl some people still think men/women are opposites, in omegaverse people think alpha/omega are. Attractive to your opposite sex/gender.

But like, if alphas are supposed to be this charismatic idol, then naturally, they make it to the top. But what if that scent thing also works on all people attracted to alphas?

And the omega scent thing is also supposed to be all sex and shit. But also like, protective? Like it gives you this urge to keep them safe or some bullshit? Bc they might be pregers. And it works on all people attracted to omegas.

And like there could be people omegas attracted to other omegas. But they might be able to get away with it if they're male/female bc that's always been the expected thing. (Bc obviously, if betas are in charge, they aren't going to think about the needs of alphas/omegas.)

(Though it could be entirely the other way around, with alpha/omegas being the norm, and betas being looked down on bc they only had one method to breed.)

See? There's so much you can do with it. But usually, all you see is the sex stuff. Which is cool if that's what you're looking for.

But I want a political intrigue type drama where the different genders play against conventional roles. And also there's a lot of smut.

But like the being in heat leaves you coherent enough to say yes or no. Or that their scent starts to smell bad as a self-defense mechanism. Oh, I like that, actually. But anyway, I don’t like dub-con like this. For like, personal reasons.

So there is a lot of smut. That is at least a little queer every once in awhile. But tbh that's just bc this gummy got me horny af. Except I'm also asexual af and the thought of myself in any sort sexual scenario makes me want to have a panic attack irl.

Anyway, you could write it as this gender equality utopia.

Or you could right it as the way it probably would be--humans always find a way to build culture, to make a society. Societies have rules to keep the status que. There will always be those who are by nature against that status que and will be seen as different or other.

Ok, I think I have accidentally done like, some of my world building here. That makes this a sacred post.

Wait shit. Am I actually going to do this? I don't really think I can. Unless I write it on my phone, bc the shitty ass laptop is too far away.

#high posting #rambling #omegaverse speculation #like it's not my thing #but I'll read it if I'm dumpster diving for anything #with the idea that one man's trash is another man's treasure #but like it is so much fun to speculate on. what is society like? what are the gender norms?#omg i think I'm going to write something omegaverse

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iiudex · 7 months

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Hallo I heard I can ask questions about your f/o's SO

I'm super interested in Neuvillette, tell me more!! How did you first meet? What's the relationship like? Any special headcanons about him/your ship? (I feel like I don't know anything bc I don't follow you for too long but I wanna know everything!)

~ anemoflower

@anemoflower EHHEHE HELLO HELLO (dont feel bad abt not knowing anything bc tbh i havent posted a coherent thought abt them ever but NOW I GET TO >:D) also i get really in the weeds of referring to myself directly so. i use lyam as my stand in (ik thats what they’re there for but whatever)

ANYWAYS. UNDER THE CUT BC ITS A LOT!

okay so small lyam backstory bc thats important to know for their first meeting!! they’re not actually fontainian (they were born there, sorta, but they’re not ethnically fontainian). & they were actually born underwater! their parents were explorers, so, they were exploring this place ↴

then they had a baby & forgot to bring said child with them when they eventually left (ik it sounds sad but dw lyam like. barely knew these people they dont gaf. ANYWAY); SO. LYAM GREW UP IN THAT PLACE YADA YADA. WELL ONE DAY. AFTER THEY’D BEEN THERE FOR UPWARDS OF 20 YEARS, ONE OF FONTAINE’S DIVERS NOTICED THEM AND WAS LIKE “erm??? i dont think this is legal hello are you supposed to be here????”

cue lyam being put on trial & boom technical first meeting with neuvillette. gotta be honest the entire thing was kinda boring bc it was all blown out of proportion just for lyam to be like “well i was born there, & none of you said anything till now” kinda thing. ANYWAY. since they were technically not guilty of a trespassing crime, they weren’t sent to meropide, but they were guilty of reading old documents that no one was supposed to see. (which wasnt what the trial was for so its not like anyone could do anything but whatever. anyways) instead of sending them to prison, neuvillette gave them a job :3 “work off your crimes” and all that. they’re technically a general investigator, bc they’re way too observant for they’re own good, but what they were really there for is to research this place ↴

which is within the former institute’s walls. only bc it might give them some hint to prevent fontaine’s prophecy & neuvi AND furina wanna be more safe than sorry.

ANYWAY THATS THEIR FIRST MEETING. BASICALLY A SILLY MISUNDERSTANDING TRIAL TURNS INTO A CONSENSUAL WORKPLACE RELATIONSHIP.

as for their dynamic, its so simple in retrospect but actually very hard to word. but it’s basically like?? rather than a relationship that was initially built on friendship or whatnot, its built solely on trust and understanding. both of them feel outcasted, despite technically having a place within fontaine’s borders. so its like “if you and i are outcasts together, its less lonely”

plus both of them have a stronger connection with hydro than other people. neuvillette because he’s literally the sovereign. & lyam bc they grew up in the water (probably too close to the primordial sea but they’re not from fontaine so its fine). so they also have that natural pull to one another.

they’re also very quiet individuals, but lyam also does have wriothesley’s exact sense of humour, but they just have this perpetual seriousness about them so everyone thinks they’re actually insane. (it makes neuvillette’s days a lot more interesting though so it’s okay :3)

ANYWAY. they’re a comfy couple. always got each other’s backs, even when the other doesn’t realise. always aware of each other. bc hey. they’re each other’s person. they gotta.

ALSO IF I CAN GIVE A HC ON THEIR WORK RELATIONSHIP REAL QUICK— lyam is kinda like neuvillette’s shadow :3 (im still working on their kit, but hypothetically speaking they’d be a buffer/support & a sub dps for him. & any other dps really). no one ever really sees them unless they have to, or unless lyam just feels like it. but they don’t want neuvi taking on cases himself, bc he’s too important for that 🤷 so they do it 🤷 (bro’s the grim reaper /j)

ANYWAY (x2) SPECIAL HC TIME

i hc neuvi to have VERY sensitive hands (sorta why he wears gloves, apart from just gen appearance). so he rarely lets people actually hold his hands, but lyam gets to have that privilege :’3. they give himb small hand kisses & cradle them so gently. plus, they just love holding hands in general, so they’re grateful that he trusts them sm T_T

THIS IS ALL FOR NOW BUT ALWAYS FEEL FREE TO ASK ME QUESTIONS IM ALWAYS THINKING ABT THEM

#— asks #— f/ovember 🩵#{{ HEHEHHEHE THANK YOU FOR THE ASK }}#{{ this makes absolutely no sense to no one but me but i hope this gives you some insight SKSKS }}

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quodekash · 1 year

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gosh darnnit im tired

in other words: time for my weekly ramblings about a bl where im mildly interested in the main couple but the side couple means more to me than anything and no i will not stop talking about them

slight warning, there will be one mention of sa and one mention of murder/suicide (both of which are my personal speculation about particular situations, and there’s no detail apart from the word being mentioned). i also discuss/ramble to myself about mental health problems, and alcohol abuse. so if any of those things are triggering for you in any way, please be cautious about reading this, take necessary precautions, and if it’s particularly distressing, i urge you to call a local hotline for these kinds of emergencies. i care about all of you and your health and safety, whether i know you or not, and if you ever need to talk about anything at all, lemme know, my ask box and my dms are always open.

anyway, on with the show!

if you haven’t figured it out yet, this is...

MY THOUGHTS ON EPISODE 4 OF ABAAB

(if youre new here, it will literally be all of my thoughts on everything while im watching it bc i feel like im annoying my friends with my ramblings so instead ill annoy all of this circle of tumblr. and it will probably not be coherent. youre welcome.)

i’m obsessed with his little ‘cher is so cute’ smile

THATS HOW I FEEL ABOUT LITERALLY THIS EXACT POST

dONT YOU DARE DO A PATPRAN

that’s real insightful, cher. id never thought of that one before. the statement really gets me thinking.

are you- are you saying what i think you’re saying? or am i more dirty minded than i thought

his hair is extra curly today and its veyr pretty

the curls are giving charlie spring vibes from the side

i would like to touch his hair please

the fact that covid exists in this universe is weirdly funny to me

yup that sounds about right. no one rly cares about covid anymore when the entire world is ending

YAY HE’S FINALLY OPENING UP TO HIM

that freaking sucks tho

and what’s worse is it’s very likely tian was r*ped

WHY DO ALL THE HAPPY FEEL-GOOD SHOWS HAVE TO HAVE SAD DEATH BACKSTORIES BEHIND 50% OF THE FREAKING CHARACTERS

GUN (msp)’S DAD IS DEAD AND HIS MUM SPENDS HALF THE SHOW LOW-KEY DYING (and i swear if they do something to gim in our skyy 2 im gonna fly to thailand and have some words with people)

AYAN’S DAD LEFT, HIS UNCLE DIED

THUA’S DAD DIED

HALF THE CHARACTERS IN THE ECLIPSE HAVE DIAGNOSED DEPRESSION AND THE REST OF THEM ARE UNDIAGNOSED BUT ITS DEFINITELY THERE

HERE, JACK HAS DEPRESSION (and i rly hope they go into that more in depth later in the show bc he intrigues me. if they dont go into it more then im writing a way too in depth analysis post of jack)

AND NOW FREAKING CHER’S FRIEND/CRUSH FROM CHILDHOOD IS FREAKING DEAD AND HER BODY WAS FLOATING IN A POND WHICH DOESNT RLY LEAD TO ANY IMMEDIATE THOUGHTS OF A NATURAL DEATH WHICH MEANS IT WAS PROBABLY MURDER AND/OR SUICIDE WHICH MAKES IT EVEN FREAKING WORSE

i knew it was too good to last. the over-confident, cocky, funny, sassy/sarcastic people are generally the most messed up, they just hide it via humour and feigned confidence (i am most certainly not one of these people at all)

cher stop drinking, you’re gonna hurt yourself. also the alcohol might feel like it’s lifting the burden of thinking and stops you from worrying about everything thats happening, but itll come rushing back to you when you’re sober and worse because youll have a hangover, and it’s only a temporary fix, drinking only works for a couple of hours. you need a more permanent fix, cos if you keep turning to alcohol, itll turn into addiction and substance abuse and dependency, none of which are good, all of which are much harder to get out of than they are to get into. so yeah, just chill with the drinking a little bit. i get that you need to let it all out and you need to not feel for a bit, and that’s totally okay, but you need to make sure you’re not over-indulging yourself. otherwise youll be very ill in the long-term, both physically and mentally

PFFFT THIS WAS THE PERFECT SHOT TO END IT ON

final thoughts:

theyve both said things that make absolutely no sense in context unless theyre confessions of feelings, and yet theyre definitely gonna continue to do the “what if he doesnt like me back” thing even tho its SO CLEAR to LITERALLY EVERYONE they have feelings for each other

theyve gotten so close to kissing this episode and yet they havent which is sad, but also at least they have kissed at one point before getting to the point where they COULD have kissed a grand total of siXTY-SEVEN TIMES- (shut up im not talking about tinngun what are you talking about. .....but also if you wanted to see that post where i count out all of the times tinngun didn’t kiss...)

very sad with the complete and utter lack of threezo in this episode. actually, it’s not even a lack of threezo. neither of them even appeared in the episode. neither was even mentioned. they (i.e. the characters, the creators of the show) are all acting like threezo AREN’T the most important characters in this entire show

i love threezo

where is threezo

or is it zothree

either way i dont mind bc i love them

where was i

oh right

this episode was pretty good, very emotional, i definitely didnt cry what are you talking about (who am i kidding, eveyrone knows i cried three times, you dont even need me to tell you)

im excited for episode 5

that is all, thank you and goodnight

#quodekash rambles about abaab #im sorry my thoughts are a mess #idk why anyone reads these #i just make them to yeet my thoughts out of my brain cos otherwise they clog up #and if they clog up then i cant make funky posts where i overanalyse one line one character said one time #anyway #a boss and a babe #a boss and a babe the series #a boss and a babe series #abaab #abaab ep 4 #guncher #chergun #forcebook #bookforce #force jiratchapong #book kasidet #jack's almighty curly hair #drake sattabut's almighty eyebrows

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riddlerosehearts · 2 years

Text

okay, so, let’s see if this cursed website will finally let me make a post about my thoughts on the scarlet and violet leaks now. gonna try and be as brief as i can because i’m still annoyed from typing this post out twice and losing it to the glitch earlier.

not really a big fan of any of the final starter evos at the moment. kinda bummed about it because SWSH was the first pokemon game ever where i purposely kept my starter in the second stage because i didn't like any of the finals, and it’s looking like this might be the second one--doesn't help that none of the first stages ever truly grew on me this time around either. the one that did grow on me the most was quaxly because of all the comparisons to donald duck and its final seems to a) have lost all of the donald duck vibes and b) be the one i like the least. HOWEVER i will admit that we’ve only seen sprites of both it and the middle evo and not proper in game images so i’ll wait to fully judge them until we can see it better. fuecoco’s is just sorta odd to me, i actually think it’s kinda cool but it doesn’t feel like a proper evolution of the middle stage imo and i think people who wanted fuecoco to stay goofy throughout its line may not be happy either?? sprigatito... well, i wanted a cool quadrupedal lynx but i knew in my heart that would never happen. however i saw several awesome fan concepts for a bipedal sprigatito evo that i would’ve liked and this one just sorta seems like delphox 2.0 although i admittedly like it better than delphox, i think. idk i guess i’m at least glad they didn’t do puss in boots for it since it seemed like most people only thought gamefreak would go that route because dreamworks made them think puss in boots is a spanish story in origin when it is not. also, it’s actually far less humanoid than i was expecting it to be. as i was typing this post the first time i realized that i actually do think i kinda like it, or at least i dislike it the least. maybe i will end up betraying quaxly to pick the grass kitty.

also i saw someone say the 3 starters have a circus theme but i... can’t... really see that right now?? like okay, sprigatito is a jester/magician, but fuecoco is supposedly “the singer pokemon” except i can’t remotely tell how it’s a singer or how that fits into a circus theme or what it’s supposed to be that would fit? its body shape just sorta makes it look like a pinata to me? and for quaxly’s evo, we just can’t hardly see what it looks like to begin with. all i can tell from the sprite is it seems to have a pirate hat and weirdly long legs, and we really need an in-game image before i can judge it properly. but anyway i just really hope me feeling so mixed about the starters isn’t a sign as to my feelings on the game lol, i wanna fully enjoy a new pokemon game again. on the bright side though, i’m very strongly considering getting some of these little guys on my team:

...oops this wasn’t really brief lol just way less well-structured and coherent than it was the first or second time i wrote it. but anyway. i really do hope at least one of the final evos manages to grow on me fully by the time the game comes out and if not that’s fine, i’ll probably just have a level 100 quaxly. ultimately it’s just the starter pokemon, it’s not a big deal, but i get attached to my starters and refuse to box them and i’m mostly just worried i’ll end up disliking SV since i disliked all of SWSH’s final evos for the starters for the first time ever and then also disliked the game. but i’m still very excited to be playing it with my friends!! also i love nacli's name, it's so clever for it being a rock salt pokemon.

#pokemon sv leaks #pokemon spoilers

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kumoriwrites · 2 years

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What are your wips about?

Thank you for the ask, anon! Sorry for getting to it a bit late 💜

So, I'm going to preface this by saying I have over one hundred WIPs. Not kidding. My brain is extremely active, and I think and daydream a lot more than I put words on paper. There are ninety-six (96) projects on my fanfiction masterlist, and at least nine (9) novels sitting and waiting for me in Google Drive. One of the reasons I don't talk much about my writing here on Tumblr is because of that - because I have so many - and because I have trouble making my thoughts coherent most of the time.

Anyway, for that reason, I will not be telling you about all one hundred some of my WIPs (Why not, Maki? I ask myself sarcastically. Ha, ha.) Instead, I will pick a few that I have thought about a lot and/or worked on recently, and also that I just love and feel like sharing. Read below to learn about them!

Haikyuu fanfiction:

Comment Es-tu Vrai? (AKA "sunflower fic") is my current main project. It focuses on Miya Atsumu, a painter, who is still in the recovery stages of a rough breakup and is struggling a lot with loneliness - until he meets Sakusa Kiyoomi, the man of his dreams. Literally. Sakusa is a miracle who seems to only exist in Atsumu's dreams, where he visits him almost every night in an endless field of sunflowers. Atsumu, desperate to learn more about his mystery man, uses these dreams as new art inspiration and slowly falls in love with Sakusa as time goes on. In doing so, however, he grows disconnected from reality, inventing a world for himself beyond his real life and neglecting himself as a result, much to the concern of his loved ones. CETV focuses on themes of the importance of self-care (and lack thereof), grief in unconventional formats, and seeking/learning how to find happiness in life.

The Nohebi Novel (AKA Maki's Canon Nohebi Content) is exactly what it sounds like: A whole book's worth of content on Nohebi Academy's boys' volleyball team, who are unfairly minor and whom I have adopted as, pretty much, my ocs. I love them dearly and think about them daily. Nohebi Novel, focusing on the five main third years (Daishou, Sakishima, Hiroo, Numai, and Takachiho), is mainly a slice-of-life that details the characters' lives from before birth until adulthood, digging in to their home and family lives, their career paths, hopes, and dreams, their relationships with each other, and all the sweet and bitter moments in between. It is my pride, it is my joy, it is all planned out in my head, and I have not written very much of it at all. Remember my "[unwritten project] is my greatest accomplishment" post? Yeah, this is what that's about :')

Original works:

Clara In Particular (working title) is my most recently created novel, a mix of a story told by Casper and poetry written by Clara. Their lives are connected in a seemingly normal way, at first, when they meet at a café on the campus of a university neither of them attend, get to talking, and fall in love. But before their first week together ends, Casper receives a typed note informing him that Clara is going to die. He is pushed head-first into a mystery unravelling around him, forced into a sense of urgency and need to save Clara before it's too late, and lands on a path he's not sure he wants to follow. All the while, he continues to fall in love with Clara, while a future with her seems to grow farther and farther away. The secrets Casper has to keep only worsen matters, and he risks losing Clara in so many ways, none of which he expected when he met her. I haven't fleshed out too much of the plot yet, but it can be categorised as magical realism, and has ✨ autumn vibes ✨, as I love to write most.

Run Cried the Crawling is a retelling of Little Red Riding Hood, set in 17th century France and featuring, again, magic and autumn vibes. Brielle, our little red, lives in the woods with her mother, and is not to speak to spirits. She is certain, however, that Renard, a curious stranger she meets near her home, is no spirit. He is of flesh and blood, just like any human - Brielle doesn't think much of the fact that he doesn't age as she does, and she teaches herself to ignore his wild, almost feral nature. When, at age thirteen, she makes the annual journey to tend to her grandmother's grave alone for the first time, Renard guides her. He stays at her side for the next five years, a secret for Brielle to keep from her mother, and teaches Brielle all she could ask to know. It is only when she turns eighteen and Renard turns hungry that she begins to doubt the reality the stranger has built for her. And when Brielle starts to believe Renard is a danger to her, she learns to fight with all she is to keep herself and the people she loves safe.

Wow hope all that made sense :) Thank you again for asking, and be prepared that you may never hear about these projects again <3

#maki answers #maki fics #maki's canon nohebi content #clara in particular #run cried the crawling

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amaranthineoceans · 3 years

Text

Everything Weird About Deltarune!

Spoiler Warning for Undertale and Both Chapters of Deltarune! Really! I Literally Go Through Everything I Can Remember About Them!

This is a long post so get comfortable. Also note that my brain doesn't process thoughts into words very well so some of these might not be worded in the best way. :)

Deltarune. The first teaser chapter was released on October 31, 2018, and it came out of nowhere. We've all gone through this, but I'll try and go through every single painstaking detail I can remember. Feel free to reblog and add/correct things.

The weirdness begins right off the bat. The title is an anagram of UNDERTALE. We all know Toby likes to use anagrams when he wants to indirectly tell us when things are related, so it's no surprise that when you go to download DELTARUNE, it warns you that the game is designed for people who have played UNDERTALE. You think, "Cool, so it's a sequel? Or maybe a prequel? A different perspective of UNDERTALE perhaps?" You were wrong; so terribly, terribly wrong! I'll elaborate on this later.

Before you download the application, the terms of service that you must agree to beforehand reads simply and plainly, "You accept everything that will happen from now on." This detail was kinda brushed off in the beginning, because, hey, it's Toby Fox. He does weird stuff all the time. But even in the first chapter, it's apparent that the concept of choice, or more accurately, the lack of it, is a very present theme in the game. I would like to remind you that Toby has announced that there will be one ending in the game. One. I'll elaborate on this later.

The program (as in, what the game is called in your files) is named SURVEY PROGRAM. Why not just call it Deltarune like it is when you download chapter two?

The game launches you, without a title screen, without any setting adjustment options, straight into a reference to the theme of the entire franchise: the lack of choice. A strange formless voice guides you through "making a vessel", with what we know now as a fountain in the background. You have the option to make some very disturbing choices in this character creator, such as making its favorite flavor "pain" or expressing your feelings about it with options such as "fear" and "disgust." You name your "creation," tell the formless voice your name (which is different from your vessel's name) and watch as said formless voice muses over your name at an agonizing pace. It thanks you for your time and tells you that your wonderful creation, (cue music cutout and background removal) will now be discarded. "No one can choose who they are in this world." The screen slowly turns white as the voice says, "Your... name... is..."

It gets weirder. The next scene appears from the whiteness and showcases Toriel calling "Kris" out of bed. Kris' area of the room is very bare in contrast to the other side, which we later discover is Asriel's.

It's Toriel. Why is Toriel here?

Kris is kind of an anagram of Frisk (the protagonist of UNDERTALE) but without the F. I highly doubt this is a coincidence.

Speaking with Noelle is the only reason you can proceed (see what i did there?) while finding a partner in the classroom. This means you can't go through the 1st chapter without knowing who she is. Is it because of the Snowgrave route?

Ralsei is just suspicious to me. There's no way he was just waiting in that castle his whole life alone without some mental toil. So either he's insane or he wasn't alone the whole time. What happened? Is it related to how he can close his eyes and see what Susie is going through when she's apart from the party? Was he just watching everything? Is he related to the formless voice?

Susie's icon is the only one without color in the Dark World.

Jevil's fight is more difficult than Sans'.

Your actions have little consequence in the first chapter. If you choose to go genocide, the only difference in the ending is being run out of the kingdom, and this doesn't carry over to the next chapter. Again, lack of choice, people.

If at the end of chapter one, you walk around town, it's mentioned (notably by Noelle) that you're usually not this talkative. If you go to the hospital and speak with the receptionist, they mention that you used to play the piano in the corner. If you decide to attempt to play the said piano, an out-of-key bash can be heard and the receptionist comments on how you used to play beautifully. If you try this in chapter two, the result is the same. All this is confirmation that Kris is acting noticeably weird.

When you leave the Dark World and walk around town, you can find Sans. He "pretends" to recognize you, and if you tell him you recognize him, he tells you it's funny, considering that you two have never met before. He winks. I'm pretty sure he knows that the player is there.

The mention of Papyrus in both games, but the purposeful lack of him. Like he's avoiding you.

If you go upstairs while inside Asgore's flower shop, there are flowers in glass cases resembling his SOUL collection in UNDERTALE. There's a red flower.

You can't enter the church.

The clock in the storage closet shows a different time than all the others in the school.

If you go all the way south in town and into the woods, the music stops and you come across a rusty, double door is in a hill covered in crass. It's locked. If you go this way in chapter two, however, you watch a cutscene where you and susie happen to find Monster Kid from UNDERTALE (or someone resembling them) and an owl kid in front of the door. The owl kid is pressuring Monster Kid to (presumably) break inside, telling them that they don't want to be a wimp like Kris. Does this imply that Kris is connected to this strange door somehow?

The ending. You know what I'm talking about.

Did Kris actually rip out the SOUL (I say "the" because I'm not entirely sure it's Kris') and knife because they wanted to eat the pie? Did they only eat the pie because Toriel caught them?

Why did they look at the player? Are they sick of being controlled? Is that why they freaked out after the Spamton fight? (later)

Anyway, now we're at chapter two.

DELTARUNE Chapter Two was released on September 17th, 2021. 17. Entry Number 17. Sound familiar?

Asriel's part of the room is different from the last chapter. I don't think this means anything sinister, but I think it means Kris notices different things about the room as the story progresses. My theory is that it will become more sinister in each chapter.

Ralsei getting super excited to see Susie and Kris after a day. As in he has separation anxiety and it breaks my heart. not anything suspicious but it makes me sad so it's on the list.

Kris and Susie's rooms. Ralsei REALLY doesn't want them to leave. Seriously get this boy a therapist. Or a stuffed animal. SOMETHING.

Kris having to gather everything from the storage closet so that people appear in the Dark World????? Why??????????????? They had to do the same thing for the computer lab too.

The golden door. I don't trust it.

How/why the heck did Noelle and Berdley go into the Computer Lab Dark World? I don't see either of them just walking into pulsing void doors without Susie.

Apparently the knight has been gone for a bit and can corrupt people's minds? The king in the first chapter doesn't seem like he can be redeemed but Queen just seems,,, not bad, but a little crazy. I wonder what happened.

Then again, name ONE person in this franchise without trauma.

Spamton.

Horror doesn't bother me. Spamton? Spamton bothers me.

SPAMTON. ENOUGH SAID.

A Kromer is a type of hat invented in the '70s. Nobody named Mike is associated with it, that I can find.

SPAMPTON. HOW DO I EVEN DESCRIBE IT.

HIS SONG IS THE ONLY ONE WITH WORDS.

The way he asks Kris is they want to be a heart on a chain their whole life. Like, dude, no wonder they were screaming after the fight.

WHERE DID THE YELLOW HEART COME FROM. YELLOW MEANS JUSTICE. WHY DOES JUSTICE APPLY.

Kris screaming after the fight and the player not being able to hear it. Don't you dare tell me that's just how the game is designed. There are sound effects characters make throughout the game. None that I can think of apply to Kris, apart from when they rip their soul out.

Ralsei brushing off the Spamton fight. Either that's his coping mechanism or he was trying to shut Susie and Kris up to protect them from... something. I'll touch on that in a minute.

According to Queen, DETERMINATION is a key factor in creating a fountain.

Also according to Queen, Kris, Noelle, and Susie all have DETERMINATION SOULS.

Ralsei freaking out about Berdley making a fountain implies that he may also have DETERMINATION. Why I'm bringing all this up will make sense soon.

How was Noelle able to cast Snowgrave... a spell that she, according to her, didn't know?

The Snowgrave route is so twisted.

You manipulate Noelle into killing Berdley and then, when you get back to the computer lab and investigate his corpse, the text box says that he doesn't seem to be awake. As if you're in denial?

Burgerpants recognizes you. Not Kris. As in the player.

The ending. I don't think I need to describe it. Kris is very methodical without the SOUL. (I say "the" because, again, I'm not 100% convinced it's theirs.) I'm saying this about how they left clues that someone broke into the This proves that they are NOT a mindless, vengeful husk.

HOW DID THEY MAKE THE FOUNTAIN WITHOUT THE SOUL INSIDE OF THEM. DID THEY FEED THE SOUL TO IT AFTERWARDS? IS THAT WHAT THAT WAS?

Another point I would like to make is my theory that Ralsei knows much more than he would have us believe. I might put this into a different post because I have yet to gather my points into a coherent bullet point list, so keep an eye out for that.

Anyway apart from Toriel and Susie being VERY heavy sleepers, I think I've gone through everything. I have a few theories.

1. Kris is possessed by the player and figured out that they could make a fountain from Queen and related to Spamton freaking out about freedom. They then decided to make a fountain going by the logic that "this would tick the player off." This is one of my top theories that assumes that the SOUL is theirs.

And 2. Kris is possessed by both the player and the knight. I think the formless voice at the very beginning of the game is the knight, and they somehow needed the player to possess someone with DETERMINATION. If so, then why Kris? We know from Queen that Noelle and Susie, and maybe even Berdley also have DETERMINATION. The most plausible thing I can think of is the fact that human souls are stronger than monster ones.

I do think that the popular theory (about the one that suggests that the Dark Word is nothing but a figment of a child's imagination, and the events that occur in said Dark World are simply children playing with toys) has been thoroughly dashed due to Berdley's murder in the genocide route of the second chapter. Unless he's not dead. Regardless, how the events (or lack thereof) that occur in the second chapter play through the next will be interesting, especially considering Toby's announcement about how there will be one ending to the game. So either Berdley isn't dead, or he will be.

Aaaand I think that's it! Sorry for the long post; let me know your thoughts and if I missed anything!

#deltarune #deltarune chapter 2 #deltarune theory #deltarune theories #deltarune chapter two theory #deltarune chapter two theories #snowgrave #pipis route #deltarune snowgrave #video games #indie game #deltarune spoilers #ralsei #kris #susie #undertale #sans

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sneverussape · 3 years

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What kind of person do you think lily was? There's a lot said about her in the series, but i have trouble reconciling pure, shining paragon lily with someone who would marry someone that spent years tormenting her friend, 4 on 1.

ooh boy this will be a LOT. i can't even promise it will be coherent but i'll make an attempt to be. (going under a cut to save us all the grief).

first off, i think it's fair to state that one of the biggest drawbacks of lily's character is how she was written. she is a plot device. she exists to boost other characters’ narratives: she's simultaneously the Rich Boy's trophy wife, the self-sacrificing mother of the Boy Who Lived, the best friend slash lost love of the Fallen Hero, and, at the same time, also no one at all. lily is a character with little to no background and character development that she can barely stand on her own two feet without any of the associated (usually male) characters to prop her up. it absolutely sucks but that's how it is. that's how jk wrote her.

given that and working with the scraps that we do have, my opinion of lily is...complex. i try to give her justice by trying to understand her context, the workings of her mind, and the possible pressures she was subjected to, but it can be challenging especially since lack of canon pushes you into a space where you have to put them in Either/Or situations. my opinion of her has also changed as i got older. when i was younger (i read the books waaaay back, as they were getting released in fact) i only saw her as an extra character (i was most interested in snape, if that's not obvious enough, but neither did i think snape was 'obsessed' with her as a lot of hp fans now think). i saw her and snape as good friends who had had a falling out, and that he'd probably had a crush on her at some point, and it got naturally overtaken by guilt etc when she died. then when i reread some chapters containing her, i was quick to put her in the Bad Friend camp. i don't think that now. i think that she, like snape, was a complex human being who made a lot of questionable decisions but shouldn't be entirely vilified for them.

my main thoughts of her that are kind of built on material from canon as well as what jkr has said herself:

- she was not posh. she grew up in cokeworth, in the same town as severus. i don't think she was middle class as a lot of fics portray her. i think the evanses were slightly better off than the snapes but they were all working-class, and living was a day-to-day struggle. the kids spoke in the local accent, their clothes were all worn and patched over, there were no green spaces or public infrastructure for kids to safely play in, and they were all mostly running wild about the town since all their parents had to work. food was something to be thankful for because there was never enough, and sometimes they had to share with their neighbors. that's the kind of setting i think lily and severus grew up in, although severus suffered abuse on top of it all. it's possible that lily did too because of the setting (post-world war 2, poverty, adults dealing with repressed trauma from the war, etc) and it wouldn't even be that surprising if she had been;

- she and petunia got along fairly well up until the point lily found out she was a witch and, as a result, became friends with severus. it's stated in canon that petunia had also wanted to attend hogwarts with them, going as far as writing to dumbledore to allow her admittance. her jealousy upon his rejection had festered and grown into outright hate that she projected onto harry as an adult, but i don't doubt that she continued to love lily even after her death and despite how she treated harry. i think as kids they had stuck together and were very close, but magic had torn them apart. suddenly lily had a world of her own that petunia wasn't welcome in, and that would have hurt. pottermore stated lily attended vernon and petunia's wedding or engagement party but james made a right mess of it. i think lily TRIED to maintain their relationship but external factors always got in the way. i don't doubt she had also loved her sister very much;

- i don't think she had any other friends. she may have had a lot of acquaintances but i think her only real friend, the one who saw her for who she really was, was severus, and i think, at a certain point in their lives, she saw that as a weakness and resented it;

- i think, from the interactions we saw in canon of lily with other people, that lily had a penchant to please people, especially the ones who ranked higher than her in terms of power dynamics - petunia (who was the older sister), professors (sluggy comes to mind, the head of slytherin with a lot of connections), even the marauders whose actions she defended. it's not necessarily a bad thing, but i've always seen it as her being borderline manipulative. i noted that she wasn't the same with severus (based on their conversations, especially the ones in 5th year, before SWM) because he's lower than her in a lot of aspects, being a slytherin and quite likely of a lower social standing. she could boss him around and tell him to piss off and he probably wouldn't have minded. she actually strikes me as someone who could have been in slytherin; a perfect arrangement, save for the fact that she was a muggleborn. i think lily knew her place and the cards she was dealt with more than anyone, but she was also determined not to stay there;

- this brings me to the point as to why she ever went out with james potter in the first place. i think her friendship breakup with severus was inevitable because they were in the middle of a burgeoning war and both of them were being pulled to opposite and opposing ends. as an added complexity, i think she also wanted to be better than being muggleborn lily evans of cokeworth, best friend of the evil greasy slytherin git, and her way out was to associate with housemates who were in the upper echelons of power. like, we don't even know what her life was like in gryffindor tower. ron was poor, but he was also a pureblood, so that may have saved him from ridicule. but what if you were a poor muggleborn, with a northern accent to boot? in the same way severus trained himself to be more posh, lily could have done the same and could have furiously tried to blend in. maintaining a friendship with severus would have ended in heartbreak as there were too many risks and it likely outweighed the gains. this was the wizarding world too which is much much smaller than the muggle world and relied on connections more than anything. openly siding with the marauders would have saved her skin and secured her a future (which, as we all know, was forfeit anyway but whatever);

- jumping to the jily relationship, i honestly think it was also not one that was meant to last. iirc jkr projected a lot onto lily, so i'm surmising jily reflected a lot of her own failed relationships. i think james and lily had a less-than-ideal relationship, one that involved abuse (verbal, emotional, mental, physical, take your pick, but at least one form of it), and i think she may have been unhappy in the last year of her life, living in hiding with none of her own friends (if they even existed) and seeing no one else but james' pals. her only light in that darkness was likely harry as she couldn't even see her own family. i think, during those times, she thought a lot about the home she left behind and, as a consequence, her lost friendship with severus. she probably missed him, and i'm sure she must have been very lonely.

in sum, i don't think she was the Virgin Mary figure a lot of hp fans paint her to be. imho she had her own questionable but utterly human moments, and i just tried to fill in the blanks as to why she would have acted the way she did. i don't think it was easy to be lily evans at all, and majority of the 21 years of her life was likely a struggle.

#lily evans #and the cards she was dealt #i wish we knew more about her tbh #ask #hp #also mentions #snape #of course

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jincherie · 4 years

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lunacy | 01

☽ ● | members: seokjin x reader x jungkook ☽ ● | genre: poly, wolf au, mates au, college au, urban fantasy, angst, smut ☽ ● | wc: 10.7k+ ☽ ● | warnings: none in particular in this part! ☽ ● | notes: here is the first part ! I think this one is going to end up being one of the longer series, so pls send me an ask and lmk what kind of tropes/scenarios u love to see in wolf aus! i wanna make this as self indulgent as possible LMFAO

The entirety of your introduction and exposure to wolves has been at the hands of Jimin and Taehyung, who over the course of your study have arguably become your best friends. It isn't until they drag you to a party held at their packhouse that you meet the rest of their pack, though-- and once you do, thing's already aren't the same as they were before;...

Wolves mate for life, and wolves are almost exclusively monogamous. It's rare for a wolf to have a human mate, and even more unheard of for a wolf to have more than one mate. Unfortunately for you, an incident at this party lands you in the middle of every exception there could possibly be.

— posted; 09.09.2020 | prologue ● next▸

The air is crisp and the plants coloured cool around you, but you're not cold.

You recognise this clearing you're in, but not from the waking world. No, you recognise it because just as it is right now, it has been the set of your dreamscape before. So it's familiar, as you gaze upon it, but at the same time something tingles under your skin in anticipation of the unknown that the shadows hold just beyond the treeline.

It must be early morning, you think to yourself, as you allow your gaze to slip to the sky. It's just fading out of the darkened caress of the night as you look upon it, tinting lighter with each breath you take. You love mornings, you recall with familiarity-- you especially love mornings like this.

There's a slight mist in the air. You don't notice it until you direct you gaze back down to the dewy earth, eyes captured by each patch of wildflowers and blotch of colour. It feels almost magical, really, but for some reason... that isn't the tone of this moment.

You don't know what it is, but something curls in your stomach a little like anticipation. What are you waiting for? You know you've seen this place before, but you can't remember when, or why...

At some point you've taken a seat in the meadow, and while a part of you expects dampness to seep into your skin, you remain safe and dry. It's comfortable. This is the nicest dream you've ever dreamt, a distant part of you surmises. You're just running your hands through the silky blades of grass and watching the dewdrops collect on your skin when a soft snap sounds far to your left.

You probably should be alarmed, but when you look up it's only in curiosity. What you see, again, should be cause for alarm-- but for some reason, the sight of the great, hulking wolf lingering at the edge of the treeline doesn't cause you anything but a flutter in your stomach.

It's not alone, you notice a moment later as something emerges from the shadows beyond it. There are two of them, both massive but one of them a little bigger than the other-- it is leaner and its limbs are longer, though, while the shorter one is thicker in its form, each limb corded with muscle.

For a moment they stare at you, and when you catch the golden hue of their eyes that gleams a little too bright to be natural, you realise they're not normal. Of course, within the walls of this dream you take it in stride.

The way they hover all the way over the other side of the meadow is almost... hesitant. You tilt your head, watching as they stay calmly in place. When you speak it's without even thinking, but you're not bothered by what comes out.

"You can come over here, you know?" you say, offering them a smile. How cool will it be if you can manage to make friends with two wolves! Regardless of their unnatural size and stature, and, now that you think about it, their colouring...

The first to move is the bigger one, its coat a gorgeous mix of sand and caramel, with streaks of white marking around its eyes and ears, as well as fitting around its front paws like boots. You'd noticed that he was a little leaner than the other earlier, but you're realising now as you watch him advance slowly that that doesn't mean he's any weaker. Each stride he takes makes dense muscle shift beneath his skin and fur, and you're slightly in awe of the power contained in his limbs as he moves.

The other wolf is no less magnificent to behold-- its fur is a curious blend of charcoal and ink, speckled with streaks and patches of dark chestnut that gleam rosy in the sunlight. Its eyes are the same unnatural amber as the other wolf's, but the way that they bore into you are oddly akin to that of a puppy.

You don't move when they come close enough that they're within reach, allowing them to move at their own pace. You're not left waiting long, though, before the smaller one trots closer, hesitation forgotten.

"Oh!" You're taken aback when it leans forward suddenly, shoving its massive, inky head against your shoulder with such strength you almost fall back, were it not for the other wolf flopping down behind you and supporting you with its massive form. Ordinarily you'd be worried you're about to be torn to pieces, especially when faced with its massive maw and large teeth, but when it rubs its head against you with a soft whine sounding from the back of its throat, you know it doesn't mean you any harm.

"Oh, you're a cute one," you murmur distractedly, allowing your hands to rise and sink into its fur. It brushes like silk against your skin, and the wolf is so pleased that it simply flops down against you, resting it's head in your lap and pushing it against your stomach.

Something lights up in you, something warm like you've settled close to the glow of a campfire and the heat is sinking into your bones. You're content, so content, and you don't even know why? But oddly enough, in this moment you're not really bothered by that.

Right as you begin to settle back into the warmth and the rhythmic lull of their breathing as they rest against you, something niggles in the back of your brain-- a shard of familiarity, do you know these wolves? How would you know these wolves?

"Who are you?" you find yourself mumbling tiredly, the world around you beginning to shrink back until your brain is only aware of you and the warmth pressed against you.

The wolf in your lap turns its head so that its large eyes are boring into your own. It's still, tail thumping once against the ground, but something stirs in the back of your brain at his gaze. Recognition that filters like sunlight onto little pieces of information in your brain until they merge into something coherent.

It dawns on you with a soft gasp-- you know them, you do. They're--

x - x - x

"Rise and shine, buttercup! I'm sick of having to silence your alarms for you! If you don't get up this time I can and will take photos of your sleeping face! You know, with your mouth all open and drool on your pillow--"

A groan escapes you that you don't quite recognise as a sound you can make, your eyes cracking open to the sight of your roommate's bright, grinning face very close to your own. The first conscious thought to cross your brain is that she does, in fact, look very punchable right now, bending over just so she can hover her face in front of your own with that shit-eating grin.

"Jihyo go away," you slur, sleep still having a very firm grasp on your brain and vocal cords. You slam your face into the pillow, yanking the duvet over your head. Your peace lasts all of 0.03 seconds before your demon of a roommate yanks the cover almost entirely off your bed, revealing your curled form to the cool air and making you whine.

"Why?" you whine, clutching the dinosaur pillow in your hold closer to your chest. "L'me sleep..."

"Nope, nuh-uh," Jihyo moves over to give you a firm smack on the ass, making you yelp and jerk out of your sleepy haze so harshly that you almost fall off the bed. Ow! "I snoozed your alarm for you five times this morning, buttercup. No more! Get up."

"Jihyo," you whine, giving her an accusing look over your shoulder as you rub your stinging behind. "You didn't even hit me where my skin was covered, you cow."

The girl simply shrugs, hands on her hips as she decides that her work here is done and begins to make her way to the door. "That's on you for wearing shorts to bed in autumn, bub. Anyway, you really do have to get up because it's like, what, nine-thirty? And you have a class at ten, so..."

At first you simply blink, her words ringing in your ears but not really sinking in, until they suddenly do and you're leaping from your bed with a yelp.

"Jihyo!"

She cackles, the absolute madwoman, and promptly exits your room. "Better hurry, buttercup!"

At her departure you fly into a panicked rush to get ready, darting around your room and grabbing things at the speed of light. You don't have time to dwell on the contents of the dream you'd been having before you were so rudely awoken, and as you fling yourself around your apartment the remaining slivers you remember of it slip from your brain and out of your grasp until the next time.

x - x - x

Regrettably, all your rushing didn't help you earlier; you still arrived late to class. Your only saving grace is that it was a lecture instead of an actual class, and the professor had been playing a video for the cohort when you arrived and so the lights had been conveniently dimmed for you to slip right in to the back unnoticed.

It actually ended only a few minutes ago, and now you find yourself walking distractedly on the way to your next class, mind lost in all the thoughts you didn't have time to entertain this morning. Fleetingly, the dream flicks through your mind-- what's left in your memory of it, anyway. You can barely conjure any of the details, or even what the two wolves looked like in whole, but the feeling it left behind lingers still in the pit of your abdomen.

You don't understand it. You've been having this dream almost every night for the past week, aside from the nights where you got too little sleep to remember your dreams. Ever since that night when Taehyung and Jimin dragged you to their packhouse, each night has greeted you with the same dream of two wolves in some meadow and you don't know why. Were they that impressionable? Were you so wowed by the sight of the wolves racing that you committed it to your memory subconsciously? Maybe… it’s a possible reason, but it doesn't feel like the reason.

It started as something small, but as the week progressed there was something, a feeling, a sensation, that grew inside you until it stirred restlessly beneath your skin, like now. You're not sure what it is. You feel like you need to be on the move, like there's somewhere you need to be, or you're forgetting something. But you've checked, and you haven't forgotten something, there's nowhere else you're meant to be. So this feeling stirring around your navel... you don't know what to do about it.

Then again, you ponder as you approach the building that holds your next class, perhaps it's just the weird feeling the dreams have been leaving you with that has been making you feel so odd and on edge.

When you enter, your attention is surprisingly not immediately captured by two particular loud men as it usually is the second you step foot in the room. Thanks to their annoyingly sharp senses, the two of them can usually smell you coming before you even reach the door. Admittedly, you're not sure if you're ever going to get used to being told that you have a smell, even if it's not in the usual insulting way. Something you're just going to have to get used to, though, considering you attend a university alongside many supernaturals, two of which are some of your closest friends.

Despite the fact that you weren't accosted upon entry this time, unlike how you usually are, the two boys you begrudgingly call friends are here, seated towards the back of the room. You wonder what stopped them from performing their usual ritual of behaviour as you approach them, but the answer comes to you when you see the light frowns on their faces and the slight bags under their eyes.

"Woah," you remark, taking a seat at the rounded table next to Jimin-- they start slightly at your appearance, ringing some alarm bells in the back of your mind. "You two look like shit. Are you okay?"

Taehyung makes a face, and Jimin gives you a smile that comes out more like a wince.

"We're fine," he says, reaching up to scrub his face with a hand. "Just... a little tired."

You tilt you head, wondering if they're going to tell you why of their own accord or if you're going to have to dig and drag it out of them. Taehyung must recognise the look on your face, because he's letting out a little huff of a laugh and enlightening you in the next moment.

"It's just... some of the members of our pack," he says, yawning. Your mouth falls open in realisation; ah, so it's a wolf thing. You're even more curious now, though. You love learning more about the creatures that walk among the population— plus, they're your friends so you feel like you should learn as much as you can about them.

"Are they causing trouble?" you ask, remembering the events of the other night with an odd shiver that isn't quite anything you can name.

Both males let out a laugh, quietening only as the tutor enters the room and lets out a greeting. Today's class isn't too interactive though, and for the majority of it you're left to your own devices to complete work at your own pace. As soon as the tutor is done telling you all the agenda, Jimin is speaking quietly from next to you.

"It's not that they're causing trouble," he says, tone soft and airy. You like his voice a lot, Taehyung's too— actually, from what you can remember, every single member of the pack had a nice voice. Is it a werewolf requirement or something? Jimin's dark eyes flit from the teacher to you, mouth twisting as though he's trying to figure out how to word what he wants to say next. "It's just that..."

"You know a little bit about wolves, and the hierarchy that runs in packs, right?" Taehyung continues in Jimin's place, blinking at you. You nod, holding your hand up to gesture that your knowledge is so-so at best. "Well, within a pack there are the usual ones you've probably heard-- the alpha, the betas, omegas."

"Ah, yeah, I've heard about that," you say, unable to help the way you lean forward in interest. Taehyung smiles wryly.

"Well, there's a little more to it than that. In our pack, Jiminie and I are deltas," he hums gaze flicking upwards as he ponders how to proceed. "So our role, when we fall back into our dynamics, is largely watching territory, but it also includes taking care of ill and wounded members of the pack."

"Two of the members are sick," Jimin says, turning to you a split second later. "The two that bowled you over, actually."

"Oh," you say, recalling the handsome faces of the two wolves that had inadvertently caused your drink to end up on you and you on the ground that night. "So, they're sick and you've been looking after them? So you're tired? They should be okay though, right? I mean, you're wolves. You bounce back quickly."

The two males share a look before turning back to you, voices still hushed so that you don't draw your tutor over to where the three of you are, most definitely not doing the work assigned.

"That's just the thing, though," Jimin says, a troubled expression crossing his features. "We're wolves, we don't really get sick. The only kind of sickness that gets us is a flu that has mutated from another supernatural creature, but even so... they should have been better by now."

"It's like they just keep slowly getting worse," Taehyung says, frowning. "Jiminie and I are running ourselves into the ground trying to keep up and monitor them. We just can't figure out what's wrong to get on top of it."

"Oh," you say, an unknown feeling welling up inside you. It's something like longing, with a certain twist of urgency. You don't know what drives you to say what you did next. "Well, uh... is there anything I can do to help? You guys look exhausted."

"You wouldn't mind?" Jimin asks, sounding surprised. "Even after the other night? I know it must have been scary."

"Well, I mean, a little bit," you admit, scratching the back of your neck. "But it was also cool as hell. Your wolf forms are so awesome, I kind of wish I got to see it sooner."

"You haven't even seen ours!" Taehyung says, a little louder than intended. When the three of you look up to catch the tutor giving you the stink-eye, you bow your heads and remain silent for a while to get him off your backs.

"For real though," Jimin says a while later, hand still scribbling answers to the activity even as he talks softly. "If you're serious about wanting to help, we'd really appreciate it. The others are all caught up with either schoolwork or other obligations so it's been a little exhausting."

"I don't mind," you say, offering the two a brief smile before going back to pretending to work. "I'm happy to help. Plus... I feel a little bad that I didn't get introduced to them properly, you know?"

Taehyung snorts softly, grinning down at the table. "Yeah, that's true. Thanks, y/n."

You offer him another smile, hoping that they can't sense the way your gut flutters and churns with an unnamed feeling. "Of course."

x - x - x

When you offered to give Taehyung and Jimin a hand with looking after their sick packmates, you were expecting to be making soup or something for them to take over. You weren’t, as it happens, expecting for the two of them to rock up at 6PM while you’re in the middle of a belated cardio workout (which was only happening because you have schoolwork that you were procrastinating at the time) to grab you and drag you back over to their pack dorm to actually, physically help out.

“Why is it every time I come here, I’m always being dragged?” you question, hints of a whine to your voice. They hadn’t even let you change! You’re still in your workout gear, which, granted, consists of just a singlet and tight, ankle-length exercise pants, and isn’t that risqué—but still! The weather is getting colder these days and so are you, right now! If it weren’t for the absolute furnace that is their body temperature and the heat of their hands on your arms, you think you’d be shivering.

“You’ve only been here twice, and this is the second time,” Jimin says dismissively, hand gripping your arm as he leads you up the stairs to their front door. You have a funny feeling in your gut that you can’t quite pin, similar to the last time you were here, but now you don’t even have time to dwell on it before you’re thrown into the pack dorm once more.

It’s much tidier than it was last time.

You’re taken aback by how clean and, well…spacious it is, now that there’s not drunk adolescent bodies crammed everywhere. It’s a very modern layout, as you noticed last time, and tastefully decorated. From what Jimin and Taehyung told you, most of the bedrooms are upstairs and the lowest floor contains most amenities like the kitchen, gym room, etcetera…

The door closes with a resounding thud behind you, and there is a call from beyond the hallway, where you recall the kitchen to be. You don’t think you recognise the voice, though.

“Tae, Jiminie, you’re back!” There is a pause, and something that sounds suspiciously like a sniff. Suddenly, you’re mortified to be the only human here again. “…Who do you have with you?”

Before you’re anywhere near composed enough to be meeting another member of their pack, the two devious bastards are pushing you forwards and around the corner, into the kitchen once more. You have a very sudden, terrible flashback to the last time you were in this kitchen and on instinct you’re scanning the room for a familiar raven-haired male.

To your relief, Yoongi isn’t anywhere to be seen—there is someone at the kitchen counter though, someone that you don’t recognise at all. You freeze, offering a sheepish grin as the two wolves you somehow call your friends hold you in place. Like you could even attempt to get away anyway.

The new figure is taller than Jimin, but not taller than Taehyung. His hair is dark, cherry red, but you can spy some regrowth coming through at the roots, and before you even see the rest of his face you can tell from his eyes and the creases at their ends that this man smiles a lot. You’re proven right when he easily returns the smile you’d flashed him earlier, shooting it at you like a sunbeam. It almost, honest to god, disorients you where you stand.

“Hey Hobi,” Taehyung greets, grinning brightly. “This is y/n, we brought her around at the last party but you were, ah… previously occupied.”

The man before you has the decency to flush slightly, a sheepish grin tugging his lips. You’ve never seen a heart-shaped smile before now, but you’re glad this attractive man was the first one to show you the light.

“Ah… right.” He chuckles, before placing the bowl in his arms onto the counter and offering you a hand. “Sorry to have missed introductions, especially when Tae and Jiminie talk so much about you! I’m Hoseok, but you can call me Hobi, or Hope if you’d like.”

Hope. It clicks together in your head and your own face flushes as you recall last time when they said he, Hope, was off practicing the karma sutra with someone. Mortified that you recalled that tidbit now of all times, you push it from your brain and try to focus on the other things he said.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you say, shaking his hand. You can’t help the way you grumble after though, giving Jimin and Taehyung a glare. “And I hope they haven’t talked too much. Every time I’ve heard them tell one of you about me, it’s always something humiliating.”

“Oh, like being caught watching Ouran Host Club in your lecture?” Hoseok asks, head tilting slightly as he picks the bowl back up. You wince instinctively, and he laughs. It doesn’t get any less humiliating every time you hear it.

“Yup,” you say, feeling very much like you wished you hadn’t agreed to help at all. “Something like that.”

He smiles, but thankfully doesn’t tease you further. Instead, he turns his attention to the two boys beside you.

“What did you bring her for?” he asks, curiosity the only thing you can identify in his tone. Jimin wastes no time in sealing your fate.

“She offered to help when we told her Kookie and Jin were sick!” he says, smacking your shoulder like a proud parent. It was almost a little too hard, and you cough slightly from the impact. Taehyung rubs a soothing hand over the place of impact, giving his brother a look. “So we brought her over, since the others can’t stay and you’re the only one that can run classes at the studio right now.”

Hoseok’s mouth forms an ‘o’, dark eyes flicking to you in surprise. “Oh, that’s very kind of you,” he remarks, flashing you another billion-watt smile. “Thank you, for that. We’re not usually this hopeless at caring for ourselves but one of the ones that’s sick is the one that usually cares for us so… we’ve kind of been running around like headless chickens, heh.”

You shrug, finally feeling a little more settled and a little less like you’d like to flee at the first available opportunity. You’re still very keenly aware of the fact that this is only the second—and first, in Hoseok’s case—time meeting these people, and it’s therefore a little awkward for you. But, to their credit, the way they’re just taking it in stride is really helping you feel less out of place.

Even though technically you hadn’t even planned on coming anywhere near here….

“It’s no problem,” you say, unsure how else to receive his words. He’s still smiling, though, so you’re guessing that he wouldn’t have been too bothered however you answered.

“How are they?” Taehyung asks, soft baritone brushing the air. There’s palpable concern in his voice, and when you glance his way his expression confirms it.

“Well,” Hoseok says, placing the bowl down on the counter again, except with a little more oomph this time. You’re beginning to grow curious as to what exactly is in there. “They’re not any better, but they’re not exactly any worse, either, so… I’m not sure how to answer. Although—”

He smacks his hand onto the counter, a wooden clatter following from the spoon in his grasp, and your eyes widen at the light gashes on the back of his hand. They’re open but not bleeding, as though they’re in the midst of healing, but they look like they were deep at some point. “—Jin has been getting a bit of an attitude, so it’s probably for the best that you brought her. The two of you are going to have to deal with him; she can deal with Kookie, if she needs to. He’s just been sulky.”

“Jin got an attitude?!” Jimin sounds incredulous, and you figure that whichever one is Jin mustn’t normally kick up much of a fuss if he’s reacting like that to the information. “What, why? Did one of you step on his paw again?”

For a moment, you think it’s just a figure of speech, like a wolf thing, but then Hoseok huffs and grumbles, rolling his eyes. “No! That was only once! No one went near his stupid paws this time. He’s been shifted ever since he started feeling sick but he’s only just started getting snappy. He’s a little testy right now… it’s why I was down here, making him stupid treats because he can’t eat human desserts in this form.”

Wait, so both of them… are wolves right now? You’re suddenly a little nervous, but do your best not to show it—somehow, despite the fact their senses are so much more advanced than yours and usually you’d be instantly found out, they’re a little too distracted with the issue currently on their hands to notice.

As though he can hear the slander being thrown around on the floors below him, there is a sudden long, muffled howl that pierces the air—the sound is weaker than you’d expect but still startles you, making you jump. As it ends, it’s followed by a thump and a series of thunks and rattles, like something had been knocked off a shelf. Hoseok rolls his eyes, and you put the pieces together and realise that must have been the wolf in question.

Jimin is wincing, reaching to take the bowl and spoon into his hands. “Uh, okay—we’ll keep an eye on him, and I’ll finish making his, uh… his scooby snacks. You can get going, I know you have a class ready to start in, like, ten minutes.”

Hoseok shoots his packmate a thankful look, more being said with his eyes than you’re privy to as a complete stranger. Now he’s relieved of his duties for the night,

“Thank you,” he says, passing Jimin the whisk that lay discarded at the other end of the bench. You then watch as he moves around the counter to grab what you quickly realise is a gym bag from its perch on the table. You half expect him to wave and then be on his way, but he halts partway towards the door, something on the tip of his tongue.

“If they don’t get better…” he trails off, brows furrowed. It’s in this moment that it really sinks in for you that their packmates must be quite sick for them to be so concerned, and you feel bad that you regretted being dragged here earlier. Jimin and Taehyung are your friends and they need help caring for their pack, their family. You feel crummy for opposing it even a little bit.

Hoseok shakes his head, brows furrowing further. “No, even if they do start to get better—I think we should call the Head Healer. This isn’t normal, and whether its some supernatural flu or something else I think they should know. I’ll tell Yoongi to call his dad, but be prepared to tell him in case he forgets.”

The two males beside you nod, Jimin’s orange locks bouncing from the fervour with which he did so.

“Will do,” Taehyung affirms, nodding towards the redhead. “We’ll take care of them in the meantime.”

Hoseok nods, expression lightening for a fraction of a second. His gaze is soon flitting back to you, a smile that makes your heart skip a beat on his lips. “It was a pleasure to meet you, despite the circumstances,” he declares politely, even if the gleam in his eye is anything but. It takes all of your willpower to keep a straight face. “I’d love to get to know you a little more sometime—”

“YAH get out of here you slimy—” Jimin is huffing suddenly, red-faced and outraged, waving his arms before darting forward to chase his packmate out. “Don’t speak to her like that! She’s off-limits! Do not put your dirty whore hands anywhere near—”

The two of them disappear around the corner, but the sound of Hoseok’s cackling and Jimin’s indignant yells reach you loud and clear anyway. As Jimin sees his packmate off at the door, Taehyung picks up the bowl and resumes where Hoseok left off, and you’re left wondering just how this night is going to go with two massive wolves upstairs needing to be cared for.

x – x

“Okay, so… here’s the plan.”

You listen attentively, fidgeting on the spot and wishing not for the first time that these two idiots had let you change before dragging you here to help out. The sweat has made your head itchy, and you’re trying so hard not to scratch it that you feel your hands trembling. Thankfully, the two wolves beside you remain none the wiser to your inner turmoil and the occasional stink-eye you throw their way.

“Me and Jiminie are gonna go deal with Jin-hyung,” Taehyung says, pausing as a loud thump echoes from the floor above. The three of you are standing at the foot of the stairs, and had been about to go up before the taller man halted you all to make a game-plan. “It… seems like it’s gonna be a two person job. I don’t know what his problem is…?”

He looks to the side to Jimin as he trails off, but his friend merely shrugs, no closer to knowing the source of his packmate’s behaviour than he is. Taehyung huffs, turning to you. “And you can handle Kookie. Just take his food up for him, apparently he’s just been sulky and he’s not aggressive in wolf or human form so you shouldn’t have anything to be worried about.”

You nod as he hands you a bowl of cooked and seasoned meat that makes even your mouth water from the aroma wafting with steam into the air. “Great. That really comforts me, thank you.”

Taehyung grins and Jimin rolls his eyes. “If he allows it, could you check his temperature when you go up there? I know we usually run hot, but we’ve noticed that with whatever sickness this is their temperatures fluctuate a lot. It’ll be really helpful if you can just tell us whether he’s warm or cold.”

You nod again, Jimin appearing satisfied with his instruction. Taehyung throws his hand in the air, almost dislodging the bowl in his hold as he does so. “Alright! Autobots, roll out!”

You simply turn to go up the stairs first, already hearing Jimin deliver his packmate with a firm whack for being an idiot. You reach the top of the stairs and pause, eyes sweeping across the hallway and the abundance of closed doors with little or no distinguishing characteristics. Well, shit.

“Last door on the right, y/n!”

Perfect. Off you go.

As you approach the end of the hallway, another door opposite the one you’re heading towards, the feeling that has been sitting dormant in your abdomen suddenly stirs to life. The tugging around your navel is more persistent than ever, leaving you confused and a little disoriented as you finally reach the last door on the right. To your surprise, there is a shuffling sound from the door opposite, on the left side of the hall, and a low, baleful whine that reaches you through the wood and makes your heart drop and clench. You don’t think you’ve ever reacted so strongly to, well, anything before.

Shaking your head and hearing the other two follow behind you in the hall, you grasp the doorknob of the door you’ve been directed to and ease it open, slipping inside as quietly as possible before closing it behind you. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself and attempt to smother the quickened pace of your heart before it’s beating gets too loud, you slowly look up from the door handle and survey the rest of the room.

It’s chic, a stylish combination of white and various cool greys across the room. The window is open but the dark curtains drawn, the breeze ruffling them ever so slightly and making you shiver as it reaches you from across the room. It’s nice, you admit to yourself, momentarily forgetting why you’re there. You’re quickly reminded once more, however, at the sight of the massive furry lump sprawled across the queen-sized bed. The main overhead light isn’t on, but the bedside lamps are and it’s enough to illuminate the wolf left in your care for the time being. There’s something about him that tickles familiarity in the back of your mind as you survey his form; his coat is a sleek mixture of ink and charcoal, fur illuminated dark chestnut where it falls beneath the light. You can’t quite put your finger on why you feel something stir inside you at the sight of him, this massive wolf sprawled across the bed, and for the time being you decide to give up on attempting to understand it.

Adjusting your hold on the bowl in your hands, you move closer to the bed, unable to help the way you keep admiring this wolf’s majestic form even as he faces away from you. You know this one is the member called Jungkook, but you can’t quite put a human face to the name to recall which wolf it was that bowled you over a week ago.

Initially, you thought that he might have been asleep, but as you grow closer to the bed you hear the softest whimper enter the air, followed by a thin whine. You freeze, looking up just in time to see a large, heavy-lidded, amber eye watching you move. Distantly, you realise that this is the sort of sight that should be making you freeze in fear. Instead, the only thing you feel is something odd and foreign, curling warmly in the pit of your abdomen. You’re not sure what to do with it, and to be honest it gives you pause.

“Uh, hey,” you say softly, feeling a little awkward. The wolf gives a huff, blinking his large eye somewhat owlishly—while he didn’t seem to really see you earlier, he appears to be registering your appearance now. “We’ve met before… I’m Taehyung and Jimin’s friend. They said that you guys were sick so I offered to help out…”

The wolf shuffles in place, looking a little more alert. Thankfully, as Taehyung had promised, he doesn’t seem aggressive or anything like that. Actually, he seems about the opposite—as he rises to a slightly more elevated position on the bed, now facing you, he lets out another long, low whine. It makes your insides clench with something like sympathy. You place the bowl where he can reach it and immediately the wolf starts devouring his meal.

There is a sudden yowl that pierces through the walls and makes you jump, but the wolf before you couldn’t be more unbothered. In the blink of an eye the bowl is emptied and licked clean, the wolf’s massive head lifting to pin you with a look that seems to say ‘what next?’. You move the bowl so it isn’t tipped, placing it on the bedside table next to a black Nintendo Switch console there. Before you can flounder too much, you recall Jimin’s instructions from earlier.

“Oh, I need to check your temperature, as well…” you inform him, still speaking softly. There is a bit of a commotion from beyond the bedroom door and you think you hear Taehyung holler something stupid, but can’t be sure. You decide to ignore it.

Tentatively, you reach your hand up, simply going for the wolf’s forehead or the closest thing to it. To your surprise, despite the minute nod that the wolf had offered you just before, now he seems to be moving his head just out of reach every time you come close. There’s a peculiar gleam in his big puppy eyes that you can’t quite decipher, almost something sly as you continue attempting to place the back of your hand against his head. His relentless shifting ends up with you leaning over the bed to reach him, and you realise a little too late just how unstable you are. Finally, he allows you to place your hand against his head, but it lasts for barely a second before the bed is shifting suddenly and then you’re falling onto the mattress with an ‘oof!’.

The wolf huffs, a massive arm laying over your hips and his head flopped down on your chest just below your breasts. You can feel your face heat in a combination of embarrassment, confusion, and fluster. For a moment, you’re too stunned to even move.

“What are you—” you can’t even finish a full sentence, you’re so flustered. “I only need to take your temperature! Let me up, please—”

You attempt to move, or even prop yourself on your elbows, and the wolf whimpers, pitifully, more of his weight bearing down on you. You pause before trying again and receiving the same reaction, this time with a mournful whine tacked onto the end.

“You’re a big baby,” you find yourself saying, tone much closer to exasperated scolding than you might have expected. “Are you really not gonna let me up?”

In response, you receive a huff and an adjustment of the wolf’s hold on you that makes it even more difficult for you to get up from the bed, his massive paw pressing into the mattress on the other side of you. When you let out a heavy sigh, he whimpers and butts his head against you, the action oddly affectionate.

“I can’t believe this,” you mutter, staring at the ceiling and wondering what on earth has just happened in the past few minutes. Since you can do nothing else, you take the opportunity to finally touch his forehead and take his temperature. He’s a little cool, but oddly doesn’t stay that way; it’s like you can feel him warming beneath your hand.

Really, you’re pretty much trapped right now. You’re not as scared as one might think you would be, and you don’t really know what you’re feeling in response to the situation. You do know that something flips and flutters inside you every time you move and you hear him whimper, or whine and snuggle closer. This wolf is almost the size of a bear and is snuggling all over you like a teacup puppy.

You’re not sure how long you lay in spot before your two idiot friends finally realise you’ve been gone a little too long for the menial tasks you were given and come knocking. The creak of the door easing open makes you jump slightly in surprise and the hackles on the wolf to raise ever so slightly.

“y/n, what is taking you so l—oh. Oh my gosh.”

Your head whips in the direction of the door, and a pleading look is already on your face before you can even think to muster it. Taehyung and Jimin stand stock still in the doorway, faces portraying an almost comical amount of shock. Jimin squints, rubbing his eyes as though he’s making sure he’s really seeing what he’s seeing. “Uh… what happened here?”

“He won’t let me up,” you grumble, face on fire. This is humiliating. The wolf huffs, like he’s talking back to you, and both Taehyung and Jimin’s eyebrows shoot up. “He’s sneaky. I just tried to take his temperature and….”

“Oh, right,” Jimin says, blinking rapidly. “How is it?”

“A little cold, but each time I check he gets warmer,” you inform him, the distant hilarity of the situation not lost on you as you calmly discuss the health and wellbeing of the wolf that currently has you pinned to his bed as a makeshift teddy bear. Jimin goes to take a step forward and a soft growl halts him mid-movement, the sound something you can feel rumbling from deep within the wolf’s chest.

“Jungkookie,” he scolds, gasping in affront. “Don’t be nasty.”

“Oh my god,” Taehyung mumbles to himself, something cheeky and mischievous that spells absolute trouble glimmering in his eyes. “This is fantastic—just wait until you’re human again, Koo. You’re not gonna live this down.”

Unimpressed, you send them a glare—some of your limbs are starting to fall asleep, maybe they could try and help you get out? Catching the look you send them, the two men share their own, and you can safely say you don’t quite like the tone of it.

They better not leave you here.

x – x – x

The next day finds you sprawled on your bed, feeling dead to the world.

True to their historically goblin nature, your two best friends had indeed left you there.

You’d found out later that it was because they knew they’d only be able to slip you out from under the wolf when he fell asleep (because apparently once he’s out, he sleeps like the dead, no matter the form). But until such a time as they actually came and retrieved you from beneath their sick, clingy packmate, you were incredibly annoyed with them. It had taken about an hour or so for the wolf, Jungkook, to fall asleep—about halfway through that you’d subconsciously keyed into the same plan as them and had begun carding your hands through his fur in an attempt to lull him to sleep faster. It had worked, and you don’t want to think about how dead your limbs would be if the wolf had taken any longer to fall asleep.

In all, the ordeal was incredibly embarrassing and your only saving grace is that Taehyung and Jimin were too busy planning how to tease their youngest packmate to tease you. Which is lucky because, wolf or not, if they’d teased you then you might have killed them.

You didn’t get back until around midnight, since you’d stayed a bit longer to help Taehyung and Jimin cook and prepare some stuff in case the two wolves woke up worse. As soon as your head hat hit the pillow, you’d knocked right out. Shamefully, you slept so deep and long that you missed your alarm for your morning class and woke up closer to lunch, which is where you are now.

Laying in bed with aching eyes and wishing that you didn’t have another class in another two hours.

Jihyo hadn’t even questioned where you went for so long last night, but also hadn’t made a joke about you finally getting some so you figure she’s waiting to pounce on you later. You find she’s already left for the day, when you finally wrangle yourself from bed and attempt to resume life as a functioning human being. So you’re safe until at least this afternoon, when she finishes her shift at the university second-hand bookstore. You can probably remain safe for longer if you study at the library and come home when she goes to her pilates class.

You’re shamefully good at evading her, at this point. You’d feel bad if it wasn’t a skill you’d learnt for survival.

You took your time a little too much while getting ready for your class, and it made you run so late that for the time being even you completely forgot about the events of last night. Well, you did until you enter your classroom and are greeted by two loud hollers of your name. Honestly, do they have no shame? Do attractive people even feel shame?

“Shut up,” you grumble half-heartedly as you take your seat between them, resisting the urge to rub your eyes since you’d put on mascara earlier. One of many things that had almost made you late. “You’re so loud.”

You complain, but secretly you’re glad for the noise—it means they’re feeling better, and things must also be improving at the pack dorm. When you finally raise your eyes to survey their faces, you find them displaying an odd mix of emotions. Like they’re glad, relieved, but at the same time still concerned about something.

“So… how are things at the dorm?” you inquire tentatively, making the most of the time you have before your tutor arrives and begins the class; it seems you aren’t the only one running behind today.

Taehyung lets out a huff, resting his cheek in his hand with a wry smile. “Well, Jungkookie is much better. You must have a magic touch because he was up and back into his human form this morning. He wanted to go to his classes but Namjoon made him stay back because he’s still not completely better.”

“On the other hand,” Jimin continues, without the need of prompting. “Seokjin… well, it’s almost like he’s the same as before, slowly getting worse. We can’t figure out what is wrong with him and why his condition isn’t turning around like Jungkook’s is.”

Ah, now you understand their expressions. They look about as confused as you feel, too. It doesn’t leave you with a very good feeling, if they’re the experts in this area and even they’re stumped for an explanation.

“We got Yoongi to call his dad, though. I heard them on the phone before we left so I suppose we’ll hear what he recommends when we get back.”

You hum to acknowledge what he said, opening your mouth to respond but deciding against it when you see the tutor hurtle into the room, out of breath and frantic.

“Sorry I’m late, everyone! If you could please all open your books to this week’s chapter, I will begin with the slides in just a moment!”

x – x – x

Considering that what you’d heard from your two wolf friends was that one of their packmates was on the mend and the other less so, you hadn’t really expected to hear anything else from them. That proves to be the exact opposite of what happens, though.

At quarter to three in the morning, you’re woken to sharp, persistent banging on your front door—the kind that makes you scared that the door is actually going to break beneath the force of the blows raining down on it. You tear out of your bed and stumble down the hall to answer it, knowing that if Jihyo has to get up to do it she’s going to tear you a new asshole.

“WHAT?!” You snap, not even seeing properly through the bleariness in your eyes but knowing in your heart there’s only two people ballsy enough to come bust your door down at this hour in the morning. “Are you trying to get me killed?! Jihyo still hasn’t forgotten about the last time you came over and ruined her sleep!”

Jimin has the decency to look somewhat sheepish, but Taehyung simply looks distressed. “Look, I’m not gonna say I’m sorry because I’m not, but we really need you to come with us right now.”

You blink, reaching to rub your eyes and feeling a strand of your hair flop into your face in response. You just know it looks like something made at the hands of Jackson Pollock right now. “What? The hell? Do you mean?”

It’s Jimin’s airy tone that reaches you this time, lowering your hackles ever so slightly. “No, he’s lying, we are sorry, it’s just—it’s an emergency. Something happened and we need your help to test a… a theory, if you will.”

You stare at him, willing his words to make sense in your sleepy brain. “I don’t understand.”

“That’s fine,” Taehyung says; and then in the next second he reaches and grabs you around the waist, slinging you over his shoulder. “We just need you to come. Can you lock up so she doesn’t kill us, Jiminie?”

You’re too stunned to even say anything as you hear Jimin lock your front door behind you, Taehyung already beginning to move post-haste down the apartment building hallway with you over his shoulder. When you finally catch-up to the events of the current moment, you instantly curse the blonde man out. “Hey, what the fuck—I can walk! Put me down! Put me down or I’ll go straight back home!”

“No way,” Taehyung argues, already exiting the building with you in tow. “You’re just gonna go back no matter what, if I put you down. I saw that look in your eyes, the one you get when you’re about to slam the door in our faces. We really need you to come, y/n.”

You blink, trying to remember if you planned on closing the door in their faces. It was only a few moments ago, but you’re still half-asleep and can’t remember for the life of you. A part of you wishes to speak up and deny his words, but for however outraged you are right now you’re still attuned to the words he’s saying and the vocal cues that accompany his speech. It gives you pause, because he seems really, genuinely distressed right now.

“What happened? What’s going on?”

Jimin has since caught up to the two of you and is opening the car door, preparing the back seat for your entry—you haven’t seen this one before, so you presume it must belong to one of the older pack members. “It’s Jin-hyung and Kookie.”

“What?” Confusion combines with sleepiness to make you sound like the stupidest person on earth. “I thought they were getting better? Or at least Jungkook was—”

“We thought so too,” Taehyung says, finally putting you down and patting your head in a makeshift apology. You decide that killing him can wait for later.

“And then… tonight happened.”

As the two of them climb hurriedly into the car and buckle up to send you all on your way to the pack dorm, they fill you in on the events of the evening. While Jungkook had shown a marked improvement over the day, it was like a switch had flipped as soon as night fell and the moon emerged from below the horizon. He relapsed to a worse state than he was in last night, and Seokjin’s condition apparently worsened as well. Alarmed and not having a single idea what to do, they’d called in Yoongi’s father who had spent a large majority of the night attempting to diagnose them and prevent their condition from worsening. Only around half an hour ago had he put together a theory as to what was wrong with them, after all the pack members filled him in on everything they could.

“Wait so—Yoongi’s dad? The healer…?” you wait for their nods of confirmation before continuing. “He thinks it has something to do with me? Wait, if that’s the case should you even be bringing me back?! What if I make them worse again! God, I knew I shouldn’t have rocked up to the party last week…”

“No, well—I mean—” Jimin flounders for what to say, cutting himself off when he comes close to saying something and giving you the sense that there is another element to this that they’re not telling you. You have half a mind to demand to know, but you also recognise it could also be a wolf thing that you have no business knowing. “Don’t worry, if the head healer of our pack is calling you back, it’s not because he thinks you’re the thing making them sick.”

That does ease you, admittedly. Just a bit. You yawn, catching movement outside your window and realising with a startle that you’re already at the pack dorm. Instantly, for reasons barely known to you, your stomach erupts into a live bundle of nerves. You’re so baffled by it that you don’t even notice as the car pulls to a stop and your door is being opened in the next second by a perplexed Jimin.

“Are you alright?”

You give him a stinky look to save face as you climb out of the car, pretending your legs aren’t wobbly. “You’re asking that now?”

At the attitude in your voice the expression of concern slips right off his face and he snorts, looping his arm through yours and dragging you up the path to the pack dorm for the third time in a week. “Oh good, you’re alright. Hurry up now, I can hear them howling like pups from here.”

You go to bite back with a response but pause, because the second you tune into your ears you can hear it too. It’s mournful, the way the howls pierce the air. Baleful, especially when paired with the scenery of the almost-full moon hanging above the trees. Again, you’re not scared, just oddly… nervous. As in, full of nerves. It’s as though there are a thousand bees buzzing in your abdomen, and the network of nerves and synapses in your body have turned to live wires beneath your skin, thrumming and prickling with energy.

What does your subconscious seem to know that you don’t?

The howls are amplified the second you enter the house and there is no longer several inches of thick wall muffling their piercing resonance. They seem to be upstairs once more, on the side of the house that you didn’t venture into last time. Now that you’re close enough, you can distinguish that it’s not only pitiful howls breaking the air, but soft whimpers and whines, as well. Something about it, the quality of the sounds brushing your ears, makes your eyes prick with tears. It’s almost like…. Grieving. Like they’re calling out for something or someone that isn’t coming.

“Wow, they’re somehow even louder than when we left,” Jimin remarks, already dragging you towards the stairs and beginning on the climb up. “For wolves that are so sick they sure do still have a pair of lungs on them.”

You’re too busy remembering the fact that you’re currently dressed in the same shorts and singlet combo you’ve been in all week, and that you’re in a house full of men (and wolves, but you digress) to offer a response. Your arrival at the top of the stairs brings you to the sight of a number of men at the end of the hall, gathered together and muttering amongst themselves. You recognise all but one, and figure that the unfamiliar older gentleman must be Yoongi’s father as you’d heard of him.

“We brought her,” Jimin announces, though you doubt it was very necessary since they could probably smell you coming from the driveway. “Are they doing any better?”

Yoongi leans around Namjoon to deliver the younger with a deadpan look. “Listen for yourself.”

Right on cue, there is another round of pitiful howling, the noise tugging at something deep inside you. Why did it make you want to go to them? Are your instincts broken? That seems like a crazy reaction to have. Perhaps you should go get yourself checked out after this ordeal, though you’re unsure which professional you should be seeking out.

Jimin winces. “Alright. So they’re not doing much better at all.”

The new character, Yoongi’s dad, steps forward and reaches out to shake your hand. “Hello, you must be y/n. I’m Yunho, the Head Healer of this pack. I’m so sorry to have brought you out here at such a late hour.”

Now that everyone’s attention is on you, and Yunho looks so genuinely apologetic (you see the relation to Yoongi in the kind set of his features) you find your earlier anger at being awoken and dragged here fizzling out for good. Somewhat meekly, you manage to respond, “It’s fine. If I can help then I don’t mind at all.”

The older man smiles at your words, appreciation in his tone as he thanks you. “We’re really grateful, for that. Now, if you don’t mind, all I want you to do is just… go into the room with them.”

You blink, Taehyung and Jimin already having begun guiding (read: dragging) you to the room in question. “Pardon?”

Yunho seems slightly amused and sheepish. “I… have a theory, as to what is wrong with these two. I will inform you of everything after we test it out, but would you be able to go in, for now? Please?”

You’re not exactly in a position to refuse, not that you really want to anyway. As silly as it is, if going into the room where the wolves are is something that will somehow actually help them, then you’ll do it. Especially because you don’t think you can handle much more of their baleful howling—they seem miserable.

“Yeah, okay. Of course.” You shake your limbs out, shrugging your arms out of your friends’ grips and shooting them a glare for manhandling your again. They have the decency to appear slighty apologetic.

The entire pack in the hallway parts to let you through, like a sea of wolves. The room they direct you to is the one opposite of the one you went into last night, the one where the rowdy wolf that Jimin and Taehyung took care of had been. Taking a deep breath, you push the slightly ajar door open, biting your lip in anticipation of what you will see on the other side.

It’s a room similar in shape to Jungkook’s, but with blues and yellows mixed into the scheme of whites and greys. It is, put simply and as objectively as possible, a mess. You can see where things have been knocked off of shelves and desks, and some items (namely one of the bed posts) have been chewed up and left disfigured. It looks like a house with remnants of a temper tantrum from a puppy left alone too soon. They aren’t on the bed, which is oddly bare, and you see why a moment later when you catch sight of them huddled together on the floor, the size of small bears but shaking and whimpering so pathetically that you don’t feel even a shred of fear as you gaze upon them. A rumpled mixture of fluffy blankets and duvets are beneath them in a makeshift nest, some of them still attached to the bed and tucked underneath the end of the mattress.

You’re not sure what you expected when you stepped into the room, but it wasn’t for the two wolves to fall dead silent upon your arrival. You freeze, unsure how to proceed until there is a nudge at your back, and you turn over your shoulder to see Yunho giving you an encouraging look.

“Just go over to them, it will be okay. They won’t hurt you.”

You didn’t realise that was a fear you had until his words soothed it, and you take another deep breath to steel yourself before following his directions. You can’t tell whether the wolves are awake, or in that feverish place between sleep and waking, but the closer you get the less restless they seem and the less noises tumble from their jaws. Unsure what they want you to do when you reach the wolves, you turn back with a questioning look. Already, at the silence in the room, Yunho has a relieved look on his face. He makes a hand movement, gesturing for you to take a seat, and you see several heads pop around the doorframe to watch as you do so.

Blushing madly and pretending that you’re not as embarrassed as you are, you sink to your knees in front of the two wolves, eyes scanning over the one you hadn’t seen before today.

Seokjin, if you recall correctly; the eldest in the pack (well… this little subgroup of the larger pack, anyway), and the other wolf that bowled you over that day. A sense of familiarity washes over you as you view him, too, despite the fact you don’t think you’ve ever seen him in his wolf form before. His coat is sandy and light, caramel-hued in some places with accents of white around his eyes and front paws. Again, you can’t quite place where you’ve seen him before, but you know deep down that you have. The same goes for Jungkook, who appears extra dark next to his lighter packmate. Each of their heads is larger, broader than one of your thighs, something you become acutely aware of as you shuffle closer on your knees. Two barely-seeing sets of amber eyes watch your every movement.

Just when you go to look back and see what they want you to do next, there is shuffling from in front of you that captures your attention instead; a whimper escapes Jungkook, but Seokjin is the one that is moving, lifting his head and craning it forward until his moist nose skims your knee, sniffing tentatively. Whatever you smell like must confirm something for him, because in the next moment he’s letting out a low whine from the back of his throat and struggling forward, butting his head against you before rubbing the side of it along your thigh. You don’t have words to describe how hot your face is right now. Just when you think it can’t get any more embarrassing, the darker wolf gains a sudden burst of energy and lurches forward, snapping his teeth around the edge of your shorts leg and tugging lightly.

“Wh—” you don’t even have the brain space to finish whatever you were going to say, too busy shuffling forward and trying to make sure this wolf doesn’t pants you in front of the rest of the pack who are—as you confirm with an alarmed look over your shoulder—still watching everything unfold. The wolf, Jungkook, doesn’t stop tugging until you’re nestled deep between their two bodies, their temperatures rising each second you spend there, and as soon as he releases his teeth from the material of your shorts, Seokjin’s body is tilting and his head is coming to press against you and trap you in.

This is ridiculous. Is this actually happening? Are you not still at home, dreaming?

Your alarmed look is directed at the rest of the pack mates and Yunho once more, the older man letting out a sigh and wincing lightly. The rest of the members seem an odd mix of relieved and baffled. It does not soothe you one bit.

“Okay… y/n, there’s something we need to talk to you about.”

a/n: here it is! pls let me know what u think, feel free to come scream in my inbox and leave a like & reblog!! it means the world to me!! i might not always get to respond to all of them, but i do read every single one-- reread, even. thank u for reading this and for always supporting me! love u!! <3

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ironmandeficiency · 3 years

Text

that’s not a shirt

pairing: marcus pike / reader

word count: 1584

summary: marcus comes home from work & finds the strangest thing in the laundry.

a/n: for @autumnleaves1991-blog and her wednesday writing challenge! writing domestic marcus pike is my therapy. unbeta’d and posted from mobile (honestly my laptop is becoming less convenient to post from even tho posting fic on tumblr is literally the reason i bought it last year)

three long, miserable weeks. that’s how long marcus has been out of town for a case that had him jetting all across the country, far away from you and your comfortable bed. he’s almost never at the apartment he pays rent for every month. most of his clothes and his favorite pillow are at your place, and the small quilt his grandmother sewed decades ago is draped over the back of your couch. in everything but name, he lived with you.

when he entered your apartment with his key, he took note of the fact you weren’t there and got set to cleaning up a bit. work leaves you exhausted more often than not and he doesn’t want to leave everything undone for you to worry about when you get home.

upon first glance, he could see the laundry was half done. a heaping load of clean clothes was in the hamper in front of the dryer and there were wet clothes in the open washer. when he looked further, there was also a load in the dryer, which told him that you stayed up late to get things done then fell asleep on the couch waiting for the dryer to finish. with a fond smile, he started the dryer for a few minutes to get wrinkles out of what’s in there. when those are done, he can get what’s in the hamper unwrinkled and hung and folded.

dinner was next on the to-do list. something nourishing to welcome you home after a long day but simple enough to do while catching up the clothes: spaghetti. there’s something about his mom’s recipe for the sauce that makes his spaghetti absolutely heavenly — your words, not his — and he can’t wait to see your reaction to having marcus home two days earlier than planned along with his best dish.

in the time it takes him to get the sauce cooking and the water boiling on the stove, the dryer announces that it’s finished with the first load. he hums as he folds the bath towels and dish rags without a care in the world, making the trip to stow them in the bathroom cabinet with a spring to his step.

checks the sauce for flavor and consistency before putting the second load of wrinkled clothes in the dryer, finding it needs just a smidge more rosemary before it can be left to simmer. picks another sprig from the plant you keep on the windowsill and cuts the leaves very fine before sprinkling them in with a flick of his wrist.

satisfied with his efforts, he turns back to the laundry. he dutifully empties the lint filter (you’re adamant on emptying it after every load and the trait passed onto him) before he begins to grab things to toss into the dryer. about a third of the way through the basket, his hand grabbed onto something weirdly solid and plump.

“mroww!”

last marcus checked, shirts don’t make noises like that. he tore his gaze from the inside of the dryer to the hamper to find a grey and white kitten lounging in the hamper. the little thing was nudging his hand with their head, clearly wanting the attention of the man slowly depleting its bed. he was perplexed. you didn’t have a cat when he was last here, but there was one seeming to be perfectly content in making itself at home in your apartment.

“where did you come from?” he knew the cat wasn’t going to give him a coherent answer but he felt the need to voice his confusion anyway. the first thing to do now: check to see if it’s male or female. it’s a female, looks to be about three months old and is perfectly content with being handled by marcus.

marcus can’t recall the last time he had a pet. with him being too busy with work, he never thought it would be fair to a pet to have an owner constantly gone. he didn’t have enough stability in the past with where he lived and didn’t want to only be a half ass pet parent. the past several months, however, have been nothing but stable. not counting the seldom out of town cases, he goes to work in the morning and comes home to you in the evening, and he rinses and repeats as needed. maybe this kitten is the perfect prelude to taking the next big step in his relationship with you.

for now though, marcus doesn’t let himself get carried away with his daydreams about living with you full time. he’s got laundry to finish and dinner to cook, and now he has a sous chef to accompany him. he holds the kitten to his chest, scratching her chin with a hooked finger and melting at the way she looks up as if telling him to keep going. “alright sweet girl, let’s finish up dinner.” a soft “mrrow!” is her reply and it makes marcus huff a quiet laugh.

dinner is completed with marcus using one less hand than normal, his sous chef being fabulous company. the few times he had to use both hands, his feline friend perched on his shoulder (which he thought was the best thing ever) and waited to be held again. however this cat got here, marcus didn’t know; the one thing he did know is that it wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

the front door was unlocked when you came home and you knew with absolute certainty that you locked it before you left. your walmart bags filled with cat supplies were immediately dropped to the hallway floor as you began to inspect your front door and the area around it. marcus taught you how to spot the basic signs of forced entry (like the protective sweetheart he is) and when none of them were there, you cautiously entered your apartment, mace in hand.

the adrenaline washed away when you spotted your loving boyfriend in the kitchen, gently bobbing his head along to whatever music he had playing. one hand was stirring a pot on the stove while the other was plenty preoccupied with the kitten. shit, you forgot to warn him about the kitten before he got home!

this was the last thing you thought would be here to greet you, but it was a very welcome sight; the feline was finicky and marcus wasn’t due home for another few days, a double whammy. “i see you’ve met the kitten.” you’re honestly just thankful he didn’t get upset about the little thing. neither of you have talked about pets or whatever your living situation is becoming, so the way he seems so taken with the kitten is a sign pointing in a great direction.

when he hears your voice, marcus visibly lights up. “hi honey!” the hand with the spoon immediately drops the wooden utensil into the pot and waves at you happily. “this is my sous chef, say hello, pasta!” he grabs one of her little paws and waves it at you before resuming his stirring, a beaming smile on his face.

did he really just name the cat pasta? and how in the world is she so calm with him right now?

you found the kitten, now known as pasta, huddled in a cardboard box beside a gas station dumpster headed home from work. she was mewling her little head off back there and you were lucky enough to hear her. taking her and her box, your list of things to do was thrown out the window as you rushed her to the vet. they cleaned her up real good and schedule her vaccinations, and sent you home with a list of supplies to buy and advice on how to take care of the little thing.

she was pissed at you after the vet trip. didn’t let you pet or hold her unless she was in the mood for it and if you tried to pick her up otherwise, she would scatter and give you a glare from a safe distance away. but here was marcus holding her like a baby, and the little brat was eating it up! to be fair, you were the same way with marcus when he was being affectionate so you didn’t completely blame her.

“why pasta?” you knew that cats were more likely than dogs to have strange names. you just didn’t think your boyfriend would be the type to give a cat a name like pasta. at that rate, you might as well name a dog goose and call it a day.

he smiles at the furball, giving her a few affectionate pets while he talks. “i was cooking spaghetti when i found her in the laundry hamper, and then i noticed a little spot right on her hip that looks like penne. i couldn’t choose between the two so i went for the middle ground. is that okay with you? or did she have another-”

“marcus, i love it.” and you really do; that sentimental dork just made you love the name pasta with nothing but two sentences. “and honestly, i’ve just been rotating between baby girl, squeak toy, and dumbass since i found her the day before yesterday.”

he scratches pasta under her chin as he laughs at the thought of you calling his sous chef a dumbass. “pasta is not a dumbass! you tell ‘em sweetheart, tell them how smart you are!”

“mroww!”

“see? she’ll be the next einstein.”

marcus pike taglist: @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @obirain @themarcusmoreno @catsnkooks @torradoza @stardustsunrisekisses @darthadeline @max--phillips @jedi-mando @darklingveracruz @andysficrecs @pedropasscals @qhbr2013 @seasonschange-butpeopledont @greeneyedblondie44 @princess76179 @kaermorons @lv7867 @whovianwar @purelypascal

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike imagine #marcus pike #the mentalist #writer wednesday #autumnleaves1991 blog #i love this so much #i’m proud of this one #marcus pike is therapeutic #my government assigned soft fbi agent

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manndo · 3 years

Text

not today, but someday [oberyn martell x reader]

gif credit

pairing[s]: oberyn martell x female!reader

warning[s]: 18+ due to heavily implied sexual content (no actually smut), sexual references/situations, mentions of breeding (in reference to conceiving a child), swearing; talks of pregnancy & the inability to conceive; fluff; angst; oberyn being oberyn (is that a warning??); no mention of ellaria; possible inaccuracies about got (see notes)

word count: 5.4k (ummmm, whoops?)

prompt[s]: none.

summary: all you had ever wanted was a little one, a child to call your own. and yet, months later, you were still without child. still barren, and your dream of becoming a mother seemed to be slipping away.

author’s notes: okay, so, let me start off saying this -- oberyn martell has taken over my life and i have spent much time yearning over him. and, in doing so, i got this idea one day because, as we know, oberyn had eight daughters. so, i thought, what if he had a s/o who could not seem to conceive? hence, this fic. but, i have never watched an episode of got in my life. i have seen his scenes (besides, you know, that scene because in my head, oberyn is alive and well and having all the berries and orgies he wants & i just can’t handle that much violence) and i have read some articles about the show, seen the gifs/posts on tumblr, and talked to people who have watched it in the past eight+ years. but that the extent of my knowledge of got. so, i apologize in advance for any inaccuracies that this fic holds. and i hope that my characterization of oberyn is good. also, no ellaria -- i just did not feel like she fit in this in anyway possible, and i did not want to force her into the story, so to speak. well, i think that is it! so, on with the show! all mistakes are my own. comments/reblogs/likes are much appreciated. thank you! ❤️

“I am sorry, m’lady.”

You did not know what else you were expecting. You knew, deep down, that nothing had changed. You did not need the maester to tell you that you were still without child — you knew. But, Oberyn had instead you call up on them, and you were too tired to argue. You also hoped you were wrong, and Gods did you want to be wrong. But, you were not.

You plastered on a polite smile for the maester. “It’s quite alright,” you said, your voice tight as you forced your emotions down. You weren’t going to shed any tears in front of the maester; you would never give anyone the satisfaction of seeing you cry, save for your husband. You nodded your head toward the door. “That’ll be all. Good day.” The maester bowed lowly before turning on their heel and exiting, the large wooden door shutting with a resounding, empty thud.

The sound echoed in your head and heart; it seeped into your veins, and began to settle in your bones. The sound felt like a finality of sorts. An ending before anything could even begin.

A short, broken sob escaped your lips, and you quickly slapped your hand over your mouth to stop the sound from breaking free. However, it did not matter — the dam had broken, the heartache released. Another sob escaped, muffled by your palm as you squeezed your eyes closed, and laid down on your bed. Your body curling into itself as tears easily flowed down your cheeks, staining them. You felt as if your body was turning on you, tearing you apart at the seams as you shook violently with your cries.

For eight months now, the two of you had been actively trying for a babe, an heir for Oberyn. Not that he himself required an heir — he had eight beautiful daughters, his Sand Snakes, whom he loved dearly no matter their status. But, when the two of you had been wed over a year ago, there had been an unspoken expectation placed upon you both. Oberyn paid no mind, and told you to do the same, but that was easier said than done.

You had always wanted to be a mother, wanting to have babe upon babe running around, mucking up your home and tugging at your skirts. To watch them grow and prosper, becoming handsome young lads and beautiful young ladies, all whom would be intelligent and strong, but caring and kind. To have your legacy, no matter how small or large it would be, live on thorough them. Perhaps there was a small sense of duty, as a woman, that made you yearn to have children. But, you knew that was not the whole picture. Children were beautiful, wonderful, and loving. They were gifts, and you want to have those gifts, to cherish and love them till you were dead and buried. You wanted it, with all your heart, and yet, it seemed like fate was delivering you a cruel hand.

There had been, one fleeting moment in the very beginning of your wedded bliss, where you were positively sure you were with child. You had been so sure, so eager to see the maester; however, you had quickly been proven wrong by your own body betraying you. You’d spent the day in your chambers, unwilling to leave for any reason. Oberyn had found you curled deep in your silken sheets that evening, and try as he might with his quiet, reassuring words, he was unable to pull you from your depressive state. So, he had held you — silently, but tightly, pressing soft kisses across your shoulders, your neck, your jaw. He let his fingertips brush against your skin, tracing nonsensical patterns across your hips, your stomach, your chest, anywhere he could reach. His touches were light, and his movements were sluggish. He comforted you silently, the best way he knew how, and you allowed him to do so. It hadn’t eased the pain completely, but it had been enough.

But, slowly, the days had turned to weeks, and the weeks turned into months, and nothing changed. It did not matter that the two of you had stopped bringing others into your bed to focus solely on each other, for Oberyn to focus solely on you. Nor, did it matter how many times he filled you with his seed, or how willing and open you were to taking what he offered. It did not matter day, afternoon, or night. Nothing mattered. Because here you were, still without child. Barren.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed as the tears flowed and the sobs continued to wrack your body as you laid curled in your marriage bed. Your hand maiden had knocked on the door at one point, but you had been quick to dismiss her before she could enter and find you in your current state. She had not come back and you were grateful.

But then, finally, everything came to a standstill; the tears you had been crying seemed to dry up, and your body had stopped trembling. You took a deep, shuddering breath and unfurled yourself, allowing your limbs to stretch out across the sheets. The tears were still clinging to the corners of your eyes, but most of them had already dried and stained your cheeks and neck. You pushed yourself to sit on the side of your bed, and roughly wiped away at your face, brushing away the outward sings of your heartache. You silently wished you could easily wipe away the heartache in your chest, too. The one that had buried itself so deeply in there.

You hadn’t even noticed the door to your chambers opening, didn’t even hear a voice calling out to you. It was only when the door shut — that hollow, empty thud — that you were brought back, your head whipping toward the sound. “Oberyn,” you said, your voice soft, a breathless whisper. He wasn’t supposed to be here; from what you recalled, he was supposed to be kept busy with mundane princely duties (his words, not yours). You weren’t supposed to see him till this evening — and from the way the sun was peeking through the curtains, it could only be mid afternoon — which would have given you plenty of time to steel yourself. To gather yourself together, lock your heartache and pain away before delivering the news. To pretend that it didn’t cut into your soul, didn’t rip you apart from the inside out. “What are you—”

“I had a free moment,” he said, making his way toward you, his golden robes flowing effortless around him. There was a smile playing at his lips, which told you that he actually did not have a moment — he made a moment to come and see you.

You felt the heartache clawing at your throat, fighting to be released.

Quickly, you pushed yourself to stand, and turned away from him in a futile attempt to hide your face. He would come closer; he would see your pain, your sorrow. Because, though you had wiped away the tears and the stains they had left behind on your cheeks, your eyes were still red and puffy. The pain and heartache still lingering behind your eyes.

God, you had hoped to have more time, more time before you had to tell him. Before you had to watch the sadness and disappointment appear, filling his rich, beautiful brown eyes. You wanted more time.

A pragmatic pause. “Love,” he said, his voice sounding strained, painful. Your actions had spoken louder than words, it seemed.

You could feel a fresh set of tears springing to your eyes, your hand grasping at the dress clinging loosely to your side. You fisted the fabric tightly and closed your eyes, willing yours tears to stay put, to not fall. You heard Oberyn call out for you again, this time your birth name falling from his lips just before you felt him come closer. He hadn’t touched you, not yet, but you could feel his presence only mere inches behind you.

“Love,” Oberyn whispered once more, this time as you felt his hand wrap gently around the fist at your side, the other coming to wrap around your waist. “I am—”

“Don’t,” you breathed out, the word sounding more like a broken sob than anything coherent. You broke away from Oberyn, and thankfully, he let you go. “I cannot bare another I am sorry, especially from you, husband,” you said, your voice harsher than you had intended, angrier. Not at him, no, you could never be angry with Oberyn. No, you were angry at yourself. This was your fault; you were defective, broken, unable to provide him and yourself with the one thing you had so desperately wished for. “I have heard enough apologies to last me a lifetime.”

You felt his fingertips brush gently against your arm, the lightest of touches, barely there. A soft gesture to tell you he was there, and that he would not leave. You took a shaky breath, and loosened the grip on the fabric in your hand, letting the dress fall back against you. “There is no rush, my love,” he said, his voice soft and tentative, as if he knew he was treading rough water. And, he was.

A choked chuckle escaped your lips, and you turned to face your husband. “For you, perhaps,” you said, letting your eyes take in his appearance. He looked as handsome as ever, but he was growing older, as was the consequences of living. Over time, more grey had appeared in his hair and his beard, and a few more lines and wrinkles adorned his regal face. Even his stomach had gone a little soft (not enough for anyone besides you to notice). But, he was still the man you had met many moons ago. Still the Red Viper. Sill the man could make any woman or man fall to their knees and beg for his cock. “You, my stallion, can breed until you’re dead. The same cannot be said for myself.”

“I do not think I would call myself a stallion, my dove. Not anymore.”

You snorted, and turned away from him, letting your eyes look down at your marriage bed. You ran a hand across the silk sheets. “With the way we’ve been fucking these past few months, I’d disagree.”

You heard an amused chuckle escape his lips. “I may be able to still mount you like a stallion, but perhaps, I can no longer bred you like one.”

You looked over your shoulder at Oberyn, and raised your eyebrow. “Don’t tell me the father of eight daughters doubts his ability to breed?”

His shoulders gave a small shrug before he reached out to you, wrapping his callused hand around your wrist. Oberyn brushed the rough pad of his thumb over your pulse point. “I am not in my prime anymore, my dove. Perhaps, the fault does not lie on you.”

You looked away from him and back toward your marriage bed. You felt him take a step closer before you felt the press of his lips against your shoulder in the briefest of kisses. The hand holding your wrist slide down, his fingers intertwining with yours. “You’re taking pity on me, husband,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I would never,” he said, his warm breath ghosting over your skin. He pressed another kiss to your shoulder before his chin came to rest there, his beard tickling your skin ever so slightly. “I am merely stating a possibility,” he mumbled, the hand holding yours moving, arm shifting to wrap around your waist, hands still tangled with one another. “A truth, perhaps.”

You scoffed. “You cannot be serious, my prince.”

Oberyn hummed, and placed a soft kiss on your neck. “I am,” he mumbled into your skin. “I could deny reality, if I wished, but denying the inevitable does not change the outcome.”

“So,” you swallowed and looked down at your tangled hands that were resting on your stomach. You took a deep breath. “You do not think of me as a failure?”

Before you could blink, Oberyn had spun you around to face him. His rich, dark eyes were narrowed, but there was no anger behind his eyes. “You are not a failure, my love,” he said, his voice filled conviction. He reached out, cupping your cheek gently, his thumb wiping away a tear you hadn’t realized had fallen. “Please, do not think of yourself as one.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “There are not many things women are afforded in this life, Oberyn. Many of us are not giving the promise of kingdoms, riches or lands when we are but babes,” you stated, your voice hard, irritation lacing your words. “But this, the gift to bare children, we are born with that. That is ours,” you said, your voice softening as your throat tightened and tears welled at the corner of your eyes. You closed your eyes, and feel another swipe of his callused thumb across your cheek. “I know I am worth more than my anatomy. I know that my anatomy does not define me. That this, this failure,” you said, your voice catching in your throat, “this inability to conceive, does not define me.” You swallowed, and opened your eyes, looking into Oberyn’s deep, chocolate orbs. “I know these things, Oberyn. I know them. But, it cuts me deeply, so deeply that I feel as if I am bleeding out with no way to close the wound.”

“My dove,” he said softly, his other hand coming to rest on your other cheek. He held your face gently between his hands, his features soften, and you could see a pain in his decadent eyes. A pain that was reflected in your own. “Your pain is my pain, know that. And know, there is nothing I would not give up in this world in order to give you the gift of a child,” he said, and you could tell that he meant what he said. He wanted this as much as you did, you both wished for this, silently prayed for this. And yet, barren.

You watched as he removed one of his hands from your cheek, sliding it down your neck, shoulder, down the middle of your chest, between your breasts and coming to rest on your stomach. Oberyn looked down at his hand, as did you, and spread his fingers across your stomach. “What I wouldn’t give to see you swell with our babe,” he said, and if you listened close enough, you could hear the slight hitch in his breath. You placed your hand over his on your stomach, fingers resting between his. “To see them suckle at your breast, to tug at your skirts, to wreak havoc in the halls.” He gazed back to you, and you felt a lump forming in your throat, a fresh set of tears prickling at the back of your eyes. “The sound of their cries and laughter filling the rooms. To see them as they grow and blossom.” He paused, and you could see he was choosing his words carefully. You felt a knot grow in your stomach. “But, I am starting to think—”

“Please, Oberyn,” you interrupted, your voice cracking as you closed your eyes, your fingers tightening their grip on his. “Do not say—”

“We need to take a step back, my love.”

Your eyes snapped opened. That was not exactly what you expected. You had expected him to say that you two should give up, forget the notion of ever having your own babe. Perhaps, he would even suggest an orphan child; you were not opposed to the idea, you loved children and would gladly be a mother to a child in need of one. But, you were not ready to give up the idea of having your own yet.

“A step back?” you asked, your eyes filled with confusion as you released your grasp on his hand. You were not entirely sure where your husband was going with this statement. You could not imagine that he was implying to stop fucking. Though Oberyn had aged, he still enjoyed the pleasures of sex (as did you) and the idea that he would give that up? Preposterous. “Are you suggesting we stop fucking, dear husband?”

Oberyn looked aghast at your suggestion, and it made the corner of your mouth tick up. “What a ridiculous notion, dear wife,” he said, mimicking your words back to you, his voice sounding almost betrayed that you would think such a thing. Even suggest such a thing. “Besides,” he started, voice dropping an octave in tone and pitch as he moved both hands, the one on your stomach and the one on your cheek, to come and rest on your hips once more. Oberyn’s callused fingers dipped into your hipbone and held tightly, almost too tightly. It barely phased you. “The idea that I could keep my hands, mouth and cock to myself around you is absurd,” he muttered, a wicked grin spread across his face, his dark eyes flashing with lust. It lasted only a moment before the smirk fell, and a serious look appeared upon his face. “However, if you wish to cease—”

You shook your head. “No, no,” you muttered. “I could not do that to you.”

“My love—”

“I’ve already asked too much of you by ceasing our activities with others.”

“Which,” he started softly, “I had no issue forgoing for you, my dove.” He paused and removed on have from your hip. He placed a finger under your chin and pushed up, lifting your head to make sure that your eyes caught his rich, dark orbs. “You have my body, my heart, and my soul. I love you. Whatever you need, I will comply.”

Your heart swelled in your chest. Oberyn partook in every pleasure imaginable, had never denied himself and tried almost every sexual act under the sun. And yet, here he was, willing to forgo sex for you. You knew he loved you, but this? This proved how far he would go for you, the lengths he would go to make sure you were well, that you were content. Whatever you needed, it seemed, he would gladly give it to you.

“No, Oberyn,” you started and he opened his mouth once more, but you stopped him as you placed a hand on his cheek. “I am — I have no problem continuing our sexual activities.”

You watched as Oberyn studied you, his dark eyes scanning your face for any sign that you might be hiding the truth from him. After a moment, he seemed content with what he found. He nodded and removed his finger from your chin. “Then, that is settled. But, I think, my dove we may have put too much pressure on ourselves,” he murmured, turning his head into your palm, and pressing a soft kiss to the center of it. “Not that our lovemaking is not pleasurable, it most certainly is, always,” Oberyn said, turning his gaze back to you, slipping on another mischievous smirk his let his free hand come to rest just below your breast. “But, perhaps, we’ve forgotten what it is like to be us,” he said, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your neck as you let your hand fall from his cheek and back to your side. “Without pressures.” Another kiss, lips moving down. “Without worries.” And, another, lower. “Only us.” His final kiss landed on your shoulder. “Return to an earlier time, when we had first laid eyes upon each other. Do you remember those days, my love?”

You nodded. You remembered those days vividly; the hours spent walking through the water gardens, talking about everything and nothing. The nights spent together, tangled in each other, exploring each other with hands, lips and teeth. Back then, all you had wanted to do was learn about the man you shared your bed — and soon, your life — with, and he had wanted the same. Oberyn still attended to his duties, as required, but every moment when he was not busy, he was with you and you were with him.

Then, when you had married, more of your time had become consumed with your own requirements and duties as well as his own. Much of your time together was spent was in the evenings, in your bed in hopes of conceiving a child.

“Perhaps, my love,” Oberyn started again, “we need to allow ourselves to enjoy each others company, get lost in each other.” A brief pause. “In and out of our bed.” You caught Oberyn’s dark orbs, and him yours. The hand on your ribs was removed, and placed instead upon your cheek. You leaned into his touch. “What do you say, my dove? We do not forgo our dream of one day having a babe of our own. We just,” he paused, for a moment, a thoughtful look in his eye, “allow ourselves not to be pressured or burdened by the notion? Return to simpler times, so to speak?”

You let your husband’s suggestion mull in your head for a moment. Perhaps, he was right; perhaps the two of you had been too focused on conceiving a child that you had, unintentionally, made sex a burden. Oberyn was not wrong; your times with him were always pleasurable and the two of you never fucked if either of you was in no mood to engage in sex. But when you did, perhaps, the burden was there, always lingering in the back of your mind. That the burden had become an unknown weight upon you, upon Oberyn. It would be nice to silence that burden for a while.

“My love?”

You blinked and focused your gaze back on Oberyn. His deep brown eyes were studying you, patiently waiting for your response. You smiled softly at him. “You are right, my prince,” you agreed, and you watched as a triumphant look filled his eyes, the corner of his lip ticking up. You narrowed your gaze slightly. “Watch that ego of yours, husband.” Oberyn chuckled lowly and moved to grasp your hips. He pulled you tight against him, a wicked smile on his face.

“Or what, dove? Hm?”

“Or,” you started, lifting arms and wrapping the loosing around his neck and shoulders, “it will get you killed one day.”

Oberyn raised an eyebrow. “Will it now? By whom?”

You held your chin up. “Me.” Oberyn laughed, the sound filling your shared chambers, and now it was your turn to raise an eyebrow. “You doubt me, my prince?”

“I do not doubt, your strength, my love,” he said through the laughter, which slowly began to die down as the milliseconds passed. “Or your cunning wit. However, I do know that you love me too much to even harm a hair on my head.” He paused and titled his head. “Well, unless in the throes of passion, of course,” he added, another mischievous grin pulling at his lips. “Then well?” He shrugged nonchalantly. “It cannot be helped.”

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, but you knew the smile pulling at your lips betrayed you. “Whatever you say, my prince,” you muttered.

Oberyn hummed thoughtfully. You had thought to say something else, but before you could even open your mouth to speak, Oberyn’s lips were on yours, his tongue licking at the seam of your lips, seeking entrance. And, you willing granted him entry. His tongue slid harshly against yours, warm, wet and unyielding. A small moan escaped your lips as your arms tightened around his neck, fingers tangling into the curls at the nap of his neck. You used your hold to pull yourself even closer to him, pressing your chest against his as you slipped your thigh between his legs, pressing it against his swelling cock. A low growl escaped his throat, one that was eagerly swallowed by your lips as his grip on your hips tightened.

There was a loud knock at your chamber door.

Oberyn barely pulled away, mumbling, “ignore it,” against your lips before sliding his lips against yours again. And, you had planned to, already lost in the taste of him. However, the moment his tongue had slipped back in to your moth, there was another knock. This time, much louder.

“M’lord?” It was one of the man servants. “Are you in there?”

Oberyn groaned and pulled his lips away from yours reluctantly. “Yes,” he responded, his voice stern, but somewhat out of breath. You smiled. “But.” One of his hands travelled from you hip, up to your side, coming to rest on your breast. He kneaded the flesh, and you let out a soft mewl, heading falling back, eyes closing. “I am very, very busy. So, if you’ll ex—”

“Your presence is requested, m’lord.”

Oberyn rolled his eyes. “By whom?” he asked, but he did not bother to move toward the door to let the servant in, only lowered his head to your neck. He gave the skin at the base of your neck a quick, hard nip. You let out a small yelp of surprise mixed with pleasure as you tugged on Oberyn’s dark locks once more.

You were sure the man servant now knew exactly why Oberyn was busy — or, more accurately, whom he was busy with.

“Your brother, m’lord,” he answered, his voice tight and proper.

Oberyn growled against your skin in irritation before he nipped the skin again, this time worrying the skin for a brief moment. “Oberyn,” you whined, the sound a little louder than a whisper. Another nip in the same area. You were sure you’d have a bruise within the hour. You straightened your neck and opened your eyes. “Oberyn,” you said again, trying to quell the ever growing arousal pooling between your legs. However, his name sounded too breathless and needy on your lips. You glanced down at him the best you could, and saw his dark orbs shining with lust. Oberyn gave a sly smirk.

“M’lord?”

You knew he didn’t want to go, that he would rather lose himself in your body and pleasure. However, you knew that if he did not go now, it would only mean more time away from each other later.

“M’lord? He wishes to speak with you as soon as possible. If you could please open this door, and—”

“Go,” you whispered, ignoring the man servant’s plea, scratching at the back of Oberyn’s neck and giving him a soft smile. “The sooner you meet with him, the sooner you are back in our bed.”

Oberyn raised his head, his eyes watching you closely. The hand resting on your breast slide up and over your shoulder. His callused fingers began to play with the strap on your gown. “And you will be waiting for me?”

“Of course,” you answered, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Unless, you’d like to visit the brothel tonight?” Oberyn raised an eyebrow. “It’s been a while, my prince, and that is my fault. I know I asked you, and you willingly followed my request. But, I do not wish to hold you back anymore. If you would like to share a bed again, I am more than willing to share tonight.”

Oberyn leaned forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, but before it could go farther, he was pulling away. He grinned down at you. “Perhaps another night, my dove. Tonight, I plan to keep you.” The hand on your hip slide off and over, his hand cupping your clothed and aching center. A small whimper escaped your lips, and Oberyn’s own lips twisted into a wicked smile. “And, this pretty cunt all to myself tonight.” He leaned forward, his lips hovering near your ear. His warm breath ghosted over the shell, making you shiver. “Make you come undone upon my tongue for hours,” he whispered, the word sending a fresh flood of arousal between your legs.

“Oberyn—” your voice sounded choked, hoarse, needy.

“Before I finally sink into that tight little cunt.” He pulled your earlobe between his teeth, and worried the skin. You groaned, eyes falling closed as you grasped at his upper arm for support. His teeth released your lobe. “And fuck you until the sun rises.”

You bite down on your lip to stifle the moan that threatened to escape your throat. Oberyn pulled back, hand sliding from your aching center to your hip, and looked at you, that wicked grin still pulling at his lips. “Perhaps—”

“M’lord?” The man servant sounded terse, clearly annoyed that he was still standing outside the door. You glanced at Oberyn to see him roll his eyes, irritation clearly written on his face. “I am sorry, but, I believe—”

“Tell him I will be there in a moment,” Oberyn all but growled through the door at the man servant. You gently swatted at his chest, and gave him a look that silently told him to be nice. Oberyn sighed. “If you would be so kind,” he added, his voice much less demanding as he glanced over his shoulder toward the door.

“Um, I would,” the man started, “but he — he requested that I personally accompany you, Prince Oberyn.”

Oberyn rolled his eyes once more. “Of course he did,” he muttered.

You bite your lip once more, this time trying to stifle a giggle that threatened to erupt. However, it escaped — a meager sound, but a giggle nonetheless. “He knows you all too well, my prince.”

“That he does,” he muttered, and let out another heavy sigh before turning his head and attention back on you. “You’ll be fine, my dove?”

And, you knew what he was asking. He was not just asking if you would be fine while he was away, or if you would be fine for the rest of the day. No, he was asking that and more, much more. Oberyn was asking if you’d be fine from here on out with what you two had agreed upon. Would you really and truly be fine with forgoing your want for a babe? Forgoing the need you had created to conceive a child for the foreseeable future. Were you, for now, fine with only having him in your life? No children, only him, only your prince. Only your husband. Only Oberyn.

You smiled sweetly, and reached out, placing a hand upon his cheek. “Yes, my love. As long as you promise to stay by my side until one of us takes our dying breath.”

Oberyn smiled, his dark orbs shining brightly with love and adoration for you. He reached out and covered your hand on his cheek with his, squeezing your fingers gently. “Promise.”

You nodded. “Now,” you started, letting your hand slide from his cheek, his fingers still grasping at yours, “go on. Before your brother comes and hunts you down himself.”

Oberyn scoffed, and looked toward the door. “That’ll be the day,” he muttered, and you chuckled softly, shaking your head.

“Go,” you said, voice a little stern as you gently pushed at his shoulder in an attempt to move him toward the door.

Oberyn laughed softly and untangled his fingers from yours. “Fine, my dove, I am going,” he muttered, leaning down to press a soft, quick kiss to your lips. “I will see you in a few hours.” Oberyn took a step back from you, his eyes never leaving yours. He grinned and took another step back. “Make sure you’re ready for me.”

You smirked. “Do not worry about me, my prince. I will be,” you said and he grinned, all teeth and wicked before turning on his heel, and leaving your shared chambers.

The door shut behind him with a resounding thud, but this time, it did not cause you heartache. There was no finality or dread that sank into your bones. It was just the sound of a door opening and closing, as they always do.

Perhaps, you had closed the door on your dreams of having little ones. But, it wasn’t locked; you could open that door once more, when the time was right. Or, perhaps, you’d find another door, another way. However, right now, you would enjoy the idea of a closed door.

taglist (for pedro characters):

@over300books

#oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x you #oberyn martell imagine #oberyn martell imagines #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones imagines #my writing

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orenjineki · 3 years

Text

Dabi the house-elf

Summary:When you don't get your Hogwarts letter at 11, you spam Hogwarts with letters until they get pissed of and send you a human Dabi who thinks he is a house-elf. And he's always naked and hung. Crap.

Warnings: Dub-Con, Dubious Consent, R18, Minors DNI

Notes: I am so sorry but I saw this tiktok by @savs_creates where Dabi is a house-elf and I just couldn't stop myself. https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMerqQ5Dc/

I thank @mangospams who is my greatest inspo when it comes to Yandere Dabi.

You had a house-elf. As a muggle. A house-elf. The size of a grown, human!, man with a sizeable…erm, well size. Not only his frame was decently sized but also his private parts, as you liked to call them in your mind when you happened to accidentally see them from the corner of your eyes when the brown bedsheets you had given the man? elf? once again did a terrible job at covering him.

Which you did not want to see since you were still unsure about his race. To be fair, you were unsure about a lot of things since you turned eleven. Up until your 11th birthday you were convinced that you would get a letter from Hogwarts, be declared a witch and go on a great many adventure with your new, magical friends in a school that was essentially a death trap for children. (They have a forbidden forest with giant spiders, that can and will eat you, unless you raised the og spider because you thought it was a cute pet!). The thought that Hogwarts was not real, merely a product of fiction, did not occur to you. And why would it, since quirks were real, why shouldn't magic be?

And so you waited for your letter, standing on the doormat of your home, looking for owls. But none came. But they had to! And so you waited. And waited. With the interruption of school, food and sleep. But not a single bird, not even a pigeon, dropped a letter with a red wax seal in front on your feet. But you never gave up hope, maybe they just got lost on their way?

You waited so long that you eventually turned twelve. Angry about this unreliability and with a feeling of betrayal, you decided to take matters into your own hands and write them a letter instead, ha! And so you did, every day, complaining about the fact that this magical institute had the audacity to not send you your magical letter! Heck, even an email would have been fine! Your parents tried to stop you at first but since you were somewhat decent at school, they let you keep your paper intense hobby. When you had sent your 6666thletter, way past your 18th birthday, you finally got an answer!

''Dear Ms. …,

We have received your thousands upon thousands of letters, demanding to be announced a witch and allowed into our school. However, we are glad to inform you that you are, through and through, a muggle. Usually we would ignore such profligate attempts at gaining something which you do not deserve but the amount of paper you have wasted for your letters poses a threat to the environment which muggle folk already treat with so much disrespect. Therefore, as a reimbursement, and a desperate attempt to get you to stop writing us, we will send you a human who thinks he is also a magical being without a trace of magic in his veins. In this case it is a human man who got hit with a confundus charm as a child and is convinced that he is a house-elf. When you finish reading this letter, you will find him standing in your kitchen, awaiting your orders.

Sincerely, the secretary of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry.''

Wait, so Hogwarts is real? And you have a house-elf/human now? What? You drop the letter and rush into the kitchen to see a man, with white hair, piercing blue eyes and piercings on…anyway. You couldn't decide what was more confusing about the situation. The fact that he appeared out of nowhere, the fact that large parts of his body were burned or the fact that he was naked. You decided to accept this new version of reality by staring at him incredulously for a good five minutes, in which he did not blink once, staring back at you.

Since he didn't say anything and you started to feel a little drowsy from this… revelation, you decided to end the day early and go to sleep in your one-room apartment. Sadly, your apartment was too small to hide in another room, hoping that he would be gone, only a really weird dream, when you woke up and entered the living room the next morning. Sadly, your living room was also your bedroom and your kitchen and so you could only turn around and stare at the wall incredulously until you fell asleep. The next morning you woke up feeling surprisingly refreshed, since your apartment was always too cold to catch a good night's sleep. But somehow you felt really warm, as if you had shared the bed with another, very warm body.

…

Was that breathing you heard near your ear, right behind you? You turned around in a millisecond and went right back to incredulously staring at your house-elf-human. Holy shit, he was still there. And naked. And now he spoke, making it even harder to ignore his existence. ''Is master mad at Dabi? Should Dabi burn himself as punishment?'' He raised a hand and a very hot and very scary looking blue flame emerged from it. Great, so you had a crazy human who was convinced to be a house-elf with a fire quirk in your very small and very expensive apartment. Just great. You decided to pretend this was real. Maybe if you went along with it, he would be revealed to be a figment of your imagination and someone would send you to a mental hospital where live might be a bit more normal than this. ''N…n…no, please don't! I'm just confused, it's fine, you did nothing wrong.''

And so you had a human house-elf. You tried really hard to convince him that he wasn't an elf, but his believe in his magicalness was as unyielding as 11 year old you's. You decided to just treat him like a really confused roommate. Very, very confused. He kept standing or laying as close to you as possible, staring at you so hard you worried he would set you ablaze with his eyes. Those eyes…

They were always on you. If it wasn't such a weird situation, he might have been your type, though more ''normal'' in his speech patterns preferably. The scars didn't look ugly, just saddening when you wondered about the pain his quirk must have caught him. In order to give him and you more privacy, you gave him an old brown bedsheet as clothing since he refused anything that was new and without holes. He was actually quite helpful around the household, watching you doing daily chores and picking them up immediately the next day until all you had left to do yourself was work and grocery shopping.

He did however always manage to make you slightly uncomfortable with the way he would stare at you whenever he had nothing to do but you had to write a paper or watch a cat video. And he was absolutely horrible when he interacted with other people, other men to be exact. One time, when you forgot to tell him to hide under the blanket when the doorbell rang, the delivery man had been visible from the kitchen unit and he stared at him, an eerie smile on his face, and a blue flame in one hand. You decided to push the delivery man out of his view, grabbed the package and slammed the door shut. After that you had a serious discussion about ''politeness'' with Dabi and he just kept insisting that ''Master doesn't need anyone else, only Dabi''.

You tried to talk him out of this worldview, but every time you even remotely disagreed with him, the room suddenly got very hot and smoke poured out of his ears and you decided to drop it. Maybe you should get a post office box instead.

From that day on everything seemed mostly fine, until you came home from work, very exhausted, with a sore neck. You yawned a lot more than usual when you tapped away on your phone and stretched your arms and moved your head around in a desperate attempt to ease the pain. Suddenly, two very warm hands found their way on your shoulders and a very hard and apparently large cock pressed into you from behind.

You gasped in shock, your breath stopping. Soft, white hair tickled your neck when your ''house-elf'' whispered into your ear: ''Does master need help relaxing? Dabi saw some of those massage videos master always watches at night on her phone. The humans in the videos look very calm after the massage.''

Your eyes widened in realization and horror, your ''house-elf'' had found your browser history. Great…

You tried to wriggle free from his hold, but only managed to rub your ass into his hard, and pierced, member, making the ''house-elf'' groan softly. The deep noise made your legs quiver and pulled a pathetic whimper from your lips. To your own shame, the most recent ''massage video'' you saw came to your mind and you wondered if he would really go this far. Before you could form another coherent thought, he let go of you to grab a glass of coconut oil from the fridge, melting it's content in his hands.

Then, his oily hands wandered, one under your shirt to softly massage your left nipple and make you whimper, the other under your waistband, inside your panties, to softly rub at your clit. Apparently, he had seen one of the more ''romantic'' videos, because you also felt his lips press soft kisses all over your neck and collarbone. Maybe he was really a magical creature, since the way he played with your admittedly very single body wiped all coherent thought from your mind. He kept rubbing and rubbing your clit until you came with a very embarrassing, very high-pitched moan.

''Don't worry master, Dabi will make you feel even better''. Before you could really grasp what he meant, something warm, hard and big was slowly pressed into your now soaked pussy. An even bigger, even more pathetic whimper left your lips. At your very audible reaction to his actions your ''house-elf'' stilled inside you once he bottomed out and laid his chin on your shoulder, looking at you with the widest eyes you ever saw on him. ''Is Master in pain?''.

You shook your head, bit down on your lip, and realized that you desperately needed him to pound you against the kitchen counter. ''I'm…I'm fine, please just move''. The desperation was very audible in your voice and the look of concern disappeared from Dabi's face. Instead, he licked your ear and whispered:'' Only if you Master admits that master belongs to Dabi''.

''W…what?!''

''Say it or Dabi will burn the next man that tries to sneak into master's home with a package.''

''O..ok, whatever. Master belongs to Dabi''.

The reaction where a dark chuckle and a kiss to your ear before he pulled out of you completely to thrust back in. When you didn't protest and your moans only grew in volume, his hands wandered and he started to squeeze each breast with a very large and warm hand. For the second time that night you wondered whether he actually was magical, since this felt like a very ''magical'' experience. Definitely fantastic with the way the various piercings battered into your g-spot and your clit, making you moan and whine just as loud as the women in your ''massage videos''. When Dabi saw your head fall back on his shoulder and your tongue roll out, he decided to make sure that everyone could see you were his and bit down on your neck, hard. You yowled out in pain but he compensated for it by rubbing your clit and thrusting so hard that you came on his cock half a minute later. The sensation of your walls squeezing him tightly and your cute whines also pushed him over the edge and you could feel his warm seed trickle out of you once he slowly retreated.

The house-human picked you up and held you bridal style in his arms before you could collapse. You still groaned softly from the overstimulation and he carried you to your very small shared bed. After carefully tucking you into bed and pulling you into his naked chest, he softly pushed your hair out of your face and gave you a number of soft kisses all over you face, on your nose, cheeks and mouth.

Before you managed to fall asleep, completely exhausted, you could hear him whisper into your hair after kissing your head:

''Now Master is Dabi's mate. I love you master, but if I ever see another man at the door I will turn him into a pile of ash''.

#dabi #dabi x reader #dabi smut #mha smut #mha crack #dabi crack #yandere dabi #yandere dabi x reader #mha yandere #yandere mha #dubcon #dub-con #tw dubcon

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